I hope his daughter finds peace, safe in the knowledge that her parents adored each other and that she was made in love.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
TAWRIEGUNN
AUGUST2024
‘Bloody hell!’ Connie pulled a face of utter disgust as Tawrie waltzed into the Café on the Corner and grabbed her apron and notepad. ‘I can’t deal with that smug, happy face all day, it’s enough to make me puke! I suggest you think miserable thoughts and start frowning a bit.’
Tawrie could feel the love in her cousin’s ribbing.
‘Envy is a terrible thing, Con! Anyway, you should be happy for me!’
‘I am, but I just can’t deal with that sickly lovestruck smile. So wipe it off your chops and we’ll all have a better day.’
‘Well, aren’t you a little ray of sunshine?’ She tied her apron around her waist.
Connie turned her attention back to the grill. ‘So I guess we can assume you had a nice time last night with Sebastian?’
Tawrie leant on the countertop and let out a dreamy sigh. ‘I feel like a teenager. I’m literally all of a dither. It was ... it was ...’
‘Two bubble and squeak with fried eggs, both with bacon and one with beans!’ Gaynor called over her shoulder. ‘Morning, Taw, you all right, me darlin’?’
‘Oh, she’s fine, Gay. About to tell me all about her night of passion with Sebastian!’
‘Ooh, I’ll hang around for that then, I do love a bit of love.’
‘Honestly, you two! There’s nothing to tell!’ She squirmed while her cheeks ached with the width of her smile.
‘Oh, you dirty cow!’ Connie brandished the cooking tongs in her direction.
‘What’re you talking about now?’ She shrank back towards the wall.
‘I know that look! I think there’s everything to tell! Just wait till I tell Nan what her little Tawrie Gunn’s been up to!’ Connie tutted loudly.
‘What’s Tawrie Gunn been up to?’ They hadn’t heard Needle come in, and yet there he was with his reusable cup in his hand, awaiting his morning coffee. His words were offered generally but his eyes fixed on Connie.
‘Wouldn’t you like to know!’ Connie shot him down.
‘This one might be in love!’ Gaynor mock whispered, loud enough for them all to hear, while pointing at Tawrie.
‘Well, that’s a turn-up for the books, although I knew something was going on, what with her new happy face. That’s how I got my nickname, cos I notice things. Sharp as a needle!’ He tapped his temple.
Connie turned with the tongs in her hand. ‘That’s not why everyone calls you Needle, Needle.’
‘Isn’t it?’ He stared into the face of the woman he wanted to take out on his boat.
‘No, love, it’s not cos you’re sharp. It’s because you’re a prick.’
Gaynor let out a laugh and Tawrie felt a flicker of sympathy for the man.
‘I know you’re joking.’ He smiled. ‘And to be honest, Connie, my love, you can call me anything you like, cos if you are talking to me in any way, about anything, then I know I’ll be happy.’
‘Oh Connie! You got to admit he’s a trier and God loves a trier.’ Gaynor grabbed a Diet Coke from the fridge and whisked it out to the back.
‘Well, maybe he can take God out on his boat then?’ Connie sucked her teeth and turned her attention back to the grill.
Tawrie left them to it, knowing nothing, not even their bickering, could dampen her mood. She approached the woman sitting alone at a table. She was about her own age, but beautiful, elegant, with long blonde hair carelessly slung over one shoulder and denim cut-offs that showed off her tanned, endless legs. A dainty, thin woman, definitely built for sitting on a pretty seat while improving her needlepoint. Her movements were languid, her limbs rangy, her build narrow, refined. There was no way she came from a long line of log-shifters, hole-diggers, net-menders, barrel-hefters or fish-gutters. A quick glance down at her own sturdy thighs and she felt the cruel twin daggers of comparison and self-doubt simultaneously threaten her confidence. It was an observation that ordinarily would deflate her good mood, but this was no ordinary day and she was still aglow!
