I shrug. ‘Dad wanted me to get a proper job.’
‘What happened to uni and an art degree?’ His eyes connect with mine and he rubs at his jaw again. A shiver runs down my spine as I know exactly what his stubble feels like under my fingertips and I have a flashback to sitting on the beach at dusk, a campfire lit in the background. ‘Ellie?’
I drag my focus out of the past. ‘After everything that happened, it never felt right,’ I mutter. The thump of my heart quickens in my chest. ‘What about you? Did you go to uni?’
In the days before the baby changed everything, we’d had dreams. I loved watercolours and had begun experimenting with the camera I’d been given for my birthday, and Jackson had wanted to study law. Looking at him now, so at ease in ripped denim jeans and a slim-fitting V-neck T-shirt with his chin-length wavy blond hair and that sexy eyebrow ring, I can’t imagine him in a formal wig and gown.
‘Nah.’ His voice is tipped with emotion, as if he’s tapped into my thoughts. ‘I didn’t do uni either. Quit A levels halfway through and did all sorts, but could never really settle at anything. I ended up at a seafood restaurant in Devon.’
‘Cooking?’ I say, surprised. He could burn baked beans when I last knew him.
‘Washing up. I only lasted there about a month. Cooking came later.’
‘Is that why you’re at the Camper Café? Are you back for good?’ Is it bad that I’m beginning to think I want him to say yes?
‘I’m helping out for now, while I’m around.’
‘Look who I found wandering around,’ says Aaron, arriving back from the ball pit with Olly held on his hip. Greg is walking next to him carrying a pint of beer.
‘Hi everyone. Jill said I’d find you all here.’ Greg dumps his laptop bag on the floor next to the table. ‘Shift up, Ellie.’
I shuffle along closer to Reeni to give Greg a space on the bench that would hardly fit a toddler. He sits down and squeezes himself right up next to me, our legs and bodies touching, even though there are plenty of spare chairs around. I catch Jackson watching us and grab my glass to take a large gulp of fizzy drink.
‘He’s keen,’ Reeni hisses in my ear.
‘Who?’ I hiss back, still watching Jackson out of the corner of my eye.
‘Greg, who else?’ Reeni looks at me puzzled, then follows the direction of my focus.
‘Of course, Greg.’ To distract her, I waggle my nearly empty glass. ‘Must have gone to my head.’
I give a really fake laugh and shuffle my bottom awkwardly on the bench. I want to put some air between Greg and me, but I’m hemmed in tight. Aaron’s back and takes his seat next to Jackson to resume their Australia conversation.
‘The café was quiet again when I called in. Have you taken that photo yet for Instagram?’ asks Greg. He takes a slurp of beer and I grind my teeth.
‘No, I was going to do it later,’ I say quietly. I know he’s being supportive, but does he have to ask me here?
Instinctively, Reeni knows I don’t want to broadcast how difficult things are. She starts talking to Greg about how social media is changing advertising and promotion. I tune out and look across at Jackson again.
‘Anyone special back at home, then?’ I catch Aaron asking, and my ears are on strings, waiting on the reply.
Jackson’s phone rings and instead of replying, he picks it up. It’s impossible to miss the picture of an attractive blonde girl holding a surfboard on the screen.
‘Better get this,’ Jackson says, and he leaves the table.
Reeni claps her hands. ‘Talking of the café.’
I look at her expectantly.
‘Aaron is organising a fundraiser for the Lilypad Hospice. You should take a stall.’ She beams at me. And if I had more funds available to me, it probably would be brilliant, but I can barely make ends meet as it is. There’s no way I can gamble money on a stall that might not make it back.
‘Isn’t that next week? I’d never be ready in time,’ I say, coming out with the best excuse I can think of.
‘I know you don’t do mobile catering as such, but Jill could cover the café, and I’ll help you man the stall. I might not be able to help you bake, though.’ She pulls a face. ‘I’d give everyone the runs.’
‘Maybe Milo will bring the Camper Café too. The more the merrier,’ joins in Aaron. ‘We’re charging a flat fee for the pitch and any further donations are always welcome. The lily pool out the back of the hospice is a mess and we want to renovate it so the patients can get some time and space outside.’
‘I think it’s a wonderful idea,’ says Sophie. ‘Appreciating outside is so important and often underrated.’ She sends Aaron a gentle smile and Milo squeezes her hand. ‘The Beach House and the Camper Café will be great additions.’
