Page 69

“I appreciate that, Kee.”

In the week since the fire, everyone has been so kind and generous. I’ve had offers of accommodation, cooked meals and clothing. Louis even offered to lend me a courtesy car from his garage after mine got damaged being parked so close to the farmhouse. I declined his offer because Pops’ old van was safely stored behind the barn and, after a little work, Sterling and I got it up and running again. It’s the only thing I have left of him besides the memories. The memories which Sterling asks me about every night as we lay in bed in the tiny lighthouse room.

Two days after the fire, I called my father to tell him. He and my mum wasted no time in telling me it was best that I came home. An hour after the call to them, my father sent me a message to say he’d spoken to Eugene Campbell, who was apparently happy to offer me even more money for the land. I replied with one word.

No.

I didn’t tell him how the man had tried to bully me into selling, nor did I mention Sterling’s suspicions that Eugene was responsible for the fire, though there has been no official cause noted yet. I’d had one fleeting moment the night of the fire where I considered giving it all up, but then my mate reminded me of my bravery. Sometimes that’s all we need – to be reminded of how strong we are when the world is trying so hard to tell us otherwise. So now, I’m standing in my bakery in a bright pink hoodie and too big joggers, with my best friend at my side and insurance documents open on my laptop screen.

We’ll rebuild.

“Where is Daddy Sterling today?” Kiernan asks. The bakery door opens and a lady with a baby in a pram walks in. Kee serves them, smiling and chatting about the weather.

“He’s hunting, and he’s not a Daddy,” I reply once the lady has left with her box of scones and rock cakes.

“I’m surprised he left you long enough to eat,” Kiernan says. He moves to the glass shelf and rearranges the remaining scones.

“I threatened to withhold…” my cheeks burn and I look away from my friend. “Um…”

Kee laughs. “Oh, you are mean. No sex for the monster if he doesn’t eat?”

“I had no choice. He’s been stuck to me like glue, eating steaks I know are not sufficient for him. I was growing worried he’d turn around and eat Applesauce.” Kee’s mouth drops open and I’m quick to wave a hand at him. “I’m joking! He would never. He was only happy to leave me because you’re here.”

“Well,” he pats me on the back. “We have a busy afternoon ahead of us. I’m sure he’ll be here in no time.”

That we do. Mrs L is hosting book club at her home this evening, and she has asked me to prepare a full afternoon tea for those attending. Scones, mini tarts, sandwiches and homemade sausage rolls. I’m pretty sure it’s either her way of distracting me from the past few days, or a big fuck you to Cheryl and her crudités.

At three, I close the bakery and Kiernan and I head into the kitchen to start preparations. We chat while we work – about everything and nothing, and at some point he tells me about a movie he watched the night before. A film in which a human falls for the guy stalking her who turns out to be undead. Or a living dead. Some name Kiernan used instead of the term vampire. It makes me think of something I’ve been wondering about.

“Do you know how a monster can make a human become…like them?”

Kiernan stops what he’s doing, pastry hanging over one finger. The sausage rolls in front of him are lopsided and rolled in a mix of sizes that range from teeny taster to lunch for five.

“You mean how do humans get turned?”

I roll out the short crust for the jam tart bases.

“Yeah.”

He narrows his eyes. “Why are you asking? You don’t want Sterling to -” he gestures to his neck.

“Monster me up? Yes.”

He laughs. “Shit. Okay. That’s huge, though I can’t say I’ve heard the term monster me up before.”

“I’m not saying right now, but one day. It’s the only way we can stay together forever.”

Kiernan hums, picking the flakes of pastry off his fingers, and flicking it to the counter.

“I’m going purely on what I’ve read and seen on TV. But he’d have to bite you.” He looks at me and his eyes immediately hone in on my neck. “That’s already been done. So I guess you’d have to drink his blood next.” He shrugs. “I think that’s how it works.”

“Seems easy enough.”

He chokes on a laugh. “Yes, becoming a monster is super easy.”

I throw a piece of short crust at him, which he catches and promptly shoves into his mouth.

“Any luck finding your mystery creature?”