“Because he looked extra grumpy and I didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that I was stealing his stock.” Rayah reached out a hand for the glass. “What was up with him?”
“Broken tooth caused by an abscess. I had to extract the tooth and clean out the infection. It wouldn’t have been pleasant for him.” Keren watched Rayah squirm on the counter. She was the biggest baby when it came to dental treatment. “It’s why you should come for regular check-ups, because prevention is better than cure.”
“Did you tell Scott that or did you just glare at each other?” Rayah said. “He must’ve been in pain if he went to you.”
“Which is ridiculous,” Keren snorted. “I’m a professional. My aim is to help people look after their teeth and oral hygiene and stop them from experiencing discomfort. I’ll treat anyone.”
“I know,” Rayah said. “I believe you had a visit from Severton’s cutest terrorist yesterday.”
Keren grinned. “She’s such a sweetheart,” she said, thinking of Sadie Grace, although terrorist was probably a much better adjective. “Did Jonny remember to leave money from the tooth fairy?”
Rayah nodded, looking a little dreamy. She kept it very well hidden, but she’d had a huge crush on Jonny Graham since Sadie Grace had started in her nursery class eighteen months ago. “Sadie ran to me this morning in the yard and told me she had a shiny pound.”
“When are you going to ask Jonny out?” Keren said. “Instead of staring at his ass whenever you see him walking away?”
“I’m not. I can’t.” Rayah said. “And I know that means I’m going to die a lonely mad cat woman who becomes known as the most prolific purchaser of batteries in Severton to power her vibe, but it’s never going to happen.”
Keren shook her head. They had this conversation at least twice a week. Jonny was a widower with three children, his wife Grace was killed in a hit and run when Sadie Grace was just three months old. He was also in charge of the local fire station and could’ve produced his own calendar to raise funds, which Keren had suggested.
“Still don’t understand why not,” Keren said, because she didn’t.
“Because he’s the best friend of my brother and cousins, which pretty much makes it incestuous. We grew up together – he saw me naked when I was six – and I’m not what he needs.” Rayah shook her head, clearly still trying to convince herself.
“What does he need?”
“Someone hot who will look after his children and be a good wife. And let’s face it, Key, I’m not good wife material. Look at me – hot mess pretty much sums it up,” Rayah stretched out her arms, knocking something off the shelf and almost falling off the counter.
Keren raised a brow. “You’re hot. His kids adore you – you know you’re his go to babysitter…”
“Because I’m single and available when he gets called into work. I’m like a little sister. He hooked up with some woman in Leeds last weekend,” Rayah said, her words tight and her nose wrinkled.
“The man has needs,” Keren said. “I still think you should offer to assist him with them. Think about how you’ll feel if he meets someone and it’s serious. The worst that can happen is that he says no, and you know Jake and that lot won’t interfere.”
Rayah shrugged. “I wasn’t like this when he was married. I loved Grace – and they were so perfect together.” She shook her head. “Let’s not talk about Jonny. Let’s talk about your love life.”
“And that will be a very short conversation, because it died a long time ago. In fact, its gravestone is now covered in moss.”
“You shouldn’t refer to your vagina like that. Moss does not become it,” Rayah said. “And besides, it won’t have healed up and it won’t be eating grass. You just need to find it some penile action.”
“And they let you teach the young of this community,” Keren said. “There is no hope.”
“Have you tried that new dating website? The one I sent you the link to?” Rayah said, completely ignoring the insult. She was used to it. She’d been considered a terrorist herself since being old enough to point.
Keren muttered something under her breath about wastes of time. “The men on there aren’t what I’m looking for?”
“Whatareyou looking for?” Rayah said. “Besides someone to knock the moss off your falula.”
“Falula? Where the hell do you get these words?” Keren said, leaning back against the counter. “I want someone who doesn’t look as if they’re, well, desperate to see what a naked woman looks like. And let’s face it, most men on dating websites are there for a reason, at least they are when they get into their thirties. You know, they’ve been divorced or they’ve never had the confidence to speak to a woman or…”
“They live in remote communities and it’s difficult to meet new people,” Rayah inserted. “I get what you’re saying. Maybe we need to go out more in Leeds and Manchester.”
“Ray, I’m not likely to meet anyone serious in a bar. We’ve been trying that now for years. Where do most people meet their partner?” Keren said, feeling more and more resolute as to what she was going to need to do.
Rayah shrugged. “You live in Severton. So here it would be at a barn dance or in primary school. Or potentially on the young farmers’ pram push.”
“But in the city, it’s at work. Or someone connected with work.” And the pram push was an excuse for farmers to resort back to being children and create vehicles to push each other round in while drunk. Not the best for finding a potential partner.
Rayah sat up straight and proceeded to knock over Keren’s recipe book holder. “You’re thinking of moving again, aren’t you?”
