Some ideas are not as half-baked as they may first appear.
Nathan Fresher wishes he could have his old life back.
Born in the sleepy village of Crumbington, where nothing ever happens, Nathan planned to graduate from university and travel the world, but when his father died suddenly, he felt obligated to take over the running of the family bakery. This also meant inheriting his position on the summer fête committee, an easy enough task since they rolled out the same tired event each year.
Everything changes ten years later when a new chairperson announces plans to reinvigorate the event, promoting the village by creating a naked calendar featuring the local football team. She has also snagged Clifton O’Keefe, a famous Hollywood actor and former resident of Crumbington, to open the fête.
Both announcements shock Nathan awake. As captain of the team, Nathan will need to convince his teammates to get their kit off for a photoshoot. Not only that, but Clifton had been Nathan’s boyfriend in high school, a secret Nathan had only ever shared with his close friend, Polly.
Fortunately Polly’s cousin is visiting, environmentalist Jaymes Wynter, and without being asked, he volunteers to chaperone Nathan to various events, which would be a tremendous help if Nathan didn’t have to deal with the cousin’s immature humour and annoying playfulness while trying to hold everything together.
As the day of the fête approaches, and Nathan faces one obstacle after another, he realises that even in the quietest of villages, life moves on and sometimes you just have to let go.
General Release Date: 15th July 2025
He had been accepted.
Nathan Fresher stood in the stairwell leading to his flat above the bakery. Perspiration glistened on his skin from an early morning run. Breathing deeply, he stared down at the letter from Surrey University. A single droplet of sweat landed on the page header. After a moment, he put one hand on top of the other to stop the page from shaking. Only on the third read through did the words sink in.
Even with his meagre A-level grades, they had offered him a place on the Sport and Exercise Science degree programme. He had been convinced they would reject him. Good things rarely happened to Nathan. This morning, the world had opened up a skylight. Fees would be a challenge, although his father had agreed to help out in the unlikely event his application was successful. Hell, they needed to talk.
Today, everything would change.
Stuffing the letter into the pocket of his hoodie, he prised off his trainers in the stairwell and thundered up the stairs to their two-bedroom apartment. Familiar early morning stillness greeted him.
“Dad? Dad, are you up?”
Silence. More than likely, his father was downstairs in the bakery, getting in Arthur Meade’s way. Arthur, the true baker and talent behind Fresher and Son Bakery, had apprenticed with Nathan’s grandfather. Mixing dough and baking their daily offerings was his domain, even though—unlike Nathan—his father could step in if needed. But Arthur unfailingly had the baked goods out and ready to display or deliver before their doors opened at six-thirty.
Three days before his twenty-first birthday, a lightness filled Nathan. His life story would not begin and end with the family bakery. He respected the hard graft and dedication of his father and their ancestors—of course he did—but maybe the time had come to break with tradition. He could think of nothing worse than spending his life doing something for which he had zero passion out of a sense of duty. Maybe he had inherited that particular gene from his mother.
He pulled out his iPhone and fired off a message to Polly. For a fleeting moment he considered calling but then thought better. Polly Wynter was not a morning person. She had been the one to push him to enrol in the four-year programme. She had even suggested Surrey University in Guildford, less than a two-hour drive from Crumbington. Nathan could pitch in at the counter on days he had no lectures and on Saturdays, their busiest day of the week. Whatever it took, he was going to make this work.
Stepping into his bedroom, he stripped out of his sports clothes and dropped them into his laundry basket before donning a towel and heading to the bathroom. Only then did he notice the closed door to his father’s bedroom. Nathan smirked. An age-old habit of his father’s, he would wake at two, go down and switch on the ovens, then prepare the decks for Arthur’s arrival before heading back to bed. Once awake again, he had an annoying habit of leaving his door wide open with the radio blaring. Nathan could count on one hand the number of times his father had overslept. But when he did, Nathan would happily let him—then rib him mercilessly for the rest of the day.
In the shower, Nathan let the hot water soothe his muscles and ran through what he needed to organise. Accommodation, course books, health check. But first of all, he would visit the campus before freshman week. Polly would want to come. His stomach clenched with excitement. He had also heard great things about the gay community at the college. Maybe Nathan would finally get to encounter like-minded people and even get to date someone. He chuckled at the thought. One miracle at a time.
In his mid-fifties, his father could keep the bakery wheels turning for at least another ten to fifteen years. Nathan hardly needed to be there. Scrubbing shampoo into his scalp, he refused to feel guilty about the opportunity. And when his father neared retirement, they could have a conversation about the future of the business. Maybe Nathan would be ready to take the reins by then. First of all, he planned to attain a qualification in health and fitness and work his way around the world. Polly had suggested getting a job as a fitness instructor on a cruise liner, a dream that had stuck.
Dressed in his shop outfit of light blue polo shirt and navy cardigan, and noticing his father’s bedroom door still closed, he made a mug of Assam tea with a dash of milk and rapped a knuckle on the door. His father would be furious and fleetingly bad-tempered when he realised the time. Opening the door wide, Nathan allowed light from the hallway to filter into the room rather than switching on the harsh bedroom light.
“Hey, Dad. It’s almost opening time. Halina’s here. I can hear her downstairs. Have your tea and take your time getting up. I’ll go down and help—"
From the thick stillness of the room, he sensed something innately wrong.
He placed the mug down next to an ashtray with the stubs of two cigarettes. Even before he put a hand to his father’s forehead, he could tell by the bloodless pallor of the skin and eyes staring unseeing at the curtained window. Coldness swept through Nathan, accompanied by a distant ringing. His legs gave way and he dropped to sitting on the edge of the mattress.
He took his father’s cold hand and squeezed. In death, his father’s indelible worry lines had melted away. Nathan had no idea whether his father had believed in an afterlife, but the serenity of his expression hinted that he had finally been reunited with the true love of his life.
Gently placing his father’s hand onto the bedcover, Nathan stood and bowed his head. At that moment, his earlier words floated back to him.
Today, everything would change.
Brian Lancaster is an author of gay romantic fiction in multiple genres, including contemporary romance, paranormal, fantasy, crime, mystery, and anything else that tickles his muse’s fancy.
Born in the sleepy South of England, where most of his stories are set, he lived in Southeast Asia from 1998 until 2022. He returned to the rural south of the UK in 2022, where he shares a home with his husband and two of the laziest cats on the planet.
Find out more about Brian at his website.
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