‘She’ll be feeding him chocolate, while he watchesCBeebies, and smothering him in cuddles.’ I give a little chuckle. ‘And in return, he’ll wrap her around his little finger.’
We’ve wandered along the beach and are now sitting on a bench in the little square at the centre of the village. Reeni’s treated us. I’ve got a coffee and a pain au chocolat, and she has water and a tub of plain, wilted-looking carrot sticks.
‘I think the café’s done.’ I balance the pastry and its pretty floral paper napkin on my knee. It had felt like a treat when I picked it out of the cake display from Bert’s Bakery. Now I feel sick at the thought of even taking a bite.
‘Ellie, no.’ Reeni pushes herself upright off the back of the bench to look directly at me. ‘Why?’
‘I’ve run out of money and I’m tired of walking on a tightrope. The Camper Café is doing a roaring trade.’ I slump back on the bench and pinch the bridge of my nose hard. I am not going to burst into tears in the middle of the village square. ‘I don’t see the point anymore. I can’t do it.’
‘I can help.’ Reeni reaches out to squeeze my arm. ‘Bridge the gap until it picks up. Because it will. You need to give it time. The marketing’s going well.’
‘I love that you want to help, but you can’t bail me out of everything, especially when I’d never be able to repay you the way things are going.’ I give her a sad smile.
‘What about moving the Camper Café on? Could you try that again?’
For a nanosecond, I think I should tell her about the complaint letter I’ve posted, but seeing as I’m in the doghouse with everyone else, I’m not about to risk that happening here too. And I don’t see the point as the council have done nothing anyway.
‘When I mentioned it, Jackson bit my head off and I don’t want to put Milo in an awkward position with his brother. Anyway, I honestly don’t think it’d make much difference at this point. I’m only delaying the inevitable.’
We sit in silence and I watch a huge seagull hopping closer, eyeing up my pastry.
‘How’s the Jackson–Greg tug of love going?’
I splutter and spray coffee out through my teeth. ‘It’s not a tug of love.’ I knew I shouldn’t have told her about that kiss on the beach when Olly was missing.
Reeni exaggerates raising her two arched eyebrows. ‘You sure about that?’ She crunches on a carrot stick. ‘You’ve had a kiss with one. Missed date with the other. And moped ever since.’ I didn’t think she could raise her eyebrows any higher, but she does.
‘That kiss was an accident.’
‘A happy accident?’
‘No. It won’t be happening again. It was a mistake. Anyway, he has a girlfriend.’ I take another slurp of coffee.
‘Ooo. Bit touchy aren’t we?’
Thank goodness she’s lowered her eyebrows, but she’s chuckling away at me now.
‘And I will go on a date with Greg. He’s lovely. I need …’
‘… to stop being a bitch first?’
I swat away a bee as it flies too close for comfort. ‘I was going to say I needed to rearrange, but you’re right.’
‘Have you seen him since?’
‘We’ve texted.’ I pull a face. I thought he’d have popped in for a coffee so I could talk to him properly, but I think he’s avoiding me and our texts are very perfunctory.
Reeni smirks. ‘No booty calls, then?’
I sigh. ‘No, I haven’t had sex with Greg recently.’
‘So, you’d rather have sex with Jackson then?’ she says, poking me with a very wilted, grotty-looking carrot. ‘God, these things are horrible. I’d kill for an ice cream in this heat.’
‘Go and get one.’ I gesture towards the bakery, which does waffle cones and organic ice cream from the local farm.
‘Oh, I can’t. I saw an alternative therapist the other day about getting pregnant. She advised me not to put anything cold near my womb.’
I pull a face. ‘Are you for real? Surely that won’t matter. People have been eating ice cream forever and still get pregnant.’
