In the latest chapter of our passionate
serial, by award-winning novelist Lavinia Catwater, our hero finds the sweet
taste of romance soon turns to bitter tears of heartbreak and regret…
Roy strode into the Flower & Produce
Show, nearly tripping over Cecil Jackson’s giant marrows in his eagerness to
reach Lexi. She had never looked lovelier, laughing as she explained the
intricacies of Bulgarian dessert-making to an enthralled audience of Bert Fry
and Joe Grundy. ‘Well, if there was a prize for prettiest cook, you’d win it,
missus!’ chuckled Joe. The old goat! Roy could feel his fists clench. This is
what a woman like Lexi did to a man! He wanted her all to himself, forever….
But even as he framed the thought, his spirits fell. Soon, all too soon, she
would be flying home, leaving him only with the memory of her prize-winning
banitsa and a dog-eared copy of The
Golem’s Totem Pole… But what had Kirsty said? ‘Come on, Roy! Seize the day,
enjoy it while you can, life’s too short and all that kind of thing! Tell Lexi
how you feel!’
He stepped masterfully past Jennifer
Aldridge, who was weeping fat, silent tears onto her over-baked apricot
frangipane, and swept Lexi into his arms. She smelt deliciously of cinnamon,
with a hint of polytunnel. ‘Oh, Roy! I am having such a lovely time!’ she
breathed. ‘Shall we get ice cream so I can lick it in that way you…’ ‘Yes,
Lexi. Yes!’ Roy was in heaven as he steered her out of the hall…
*
On Tuesday evening, Roy was trudging along
the lane past Brookfield, deep in thought. He’d told Kirsty he needed to clear
his head after the day’s disastrous laundry mix-up at Grey Gables. But there
was only one thing on his mind: Lexi. Did she really have to Skype her mother
about Violeta’s troubles at school? Or was she trying to avoid him?
A huge, rusty loader rumbled past him in
the gloom, but Roy barely noticed it. He longed to tell Lexi how he felt, but
when – and where? He could hardly turn up at the caravans, with their odour of
bleach and bin bags full of Constantin’s discarded boxer shorts… Suddenly a leaflet,
stuck in the hedgerow, caught his eye. ‘Felpersham Pop-Up World Street Food
Festival.’ This was perfect. Where better to woo Lexi, a woman with cosmopolitan
joie de vivre and a degree in hospitality management? Stuffing the leaflet into
his pocket, Roy sprinted home with new purpose, waving cheerily at the man in
the stocking mask and striped jumper who was driving the loader…
*
‘Ooh, Roy… pulled pork! I want it right
now!’ Roy blushed to his ears. ‘Me too Lexi, just wait till we get home….’ he
stammered. ‘No, silly!’ she laughed delightedly. ‘I want to eat pulled pork,
and lobster roll, and tacos, and Pad Thai and Chinese dumplings…’ Lexi’s eyes
were shining in the light of a Mongolian barbeque, melting Roy’s heart faster
than fat on a buffalo burger. Was this the moment? Awkwardly, he got down on
one knee, narrowly avoiding a pool of spilled fruit lassi. ‘Lexi, I…’ But suddenly her phone rang. ‘It’s Mama!’ she
said. ‘I must answer it. Sorry, Roy….’ She turned away, chattering urgently in Bulgarian.
Cursing his luck, Roy wearily got to his
feet. He looked up, and through the smoke rising from the Korean fire pit he
could see an airliner travelling far, far away from Borsetshire. How long would
it be before Lexi’s family commitments in Bulgaria would take her away from
him? And could they keep a long-distance relationship going on a shared passion
for street food and the novels of Stephen King? He threw away the remains of his chicken
roti, sick at heart…
To be
continued….
