I could hug him for being so calm and professional. Instead I pick out a tiny piece of strawberry, and watch as he finally gets to chomp on his slice.
‘Almond sponge.’ He closes his eyes and as he chews an ecstatic expression spreads across his face. Then the outside door clicks, and he opens them again. ‘Bugger. Excuse the language, but some days my planets do seem to be in the House of Horrors not the House of Indulgence.’
There’s a very familiar cough, and five seconds later, Charlie’s standing by the desk, hands in his jean pockets. ‘So who did I just bump into out there on the quayside? He had eyes just like yours, Clems. And the kind of hair tangles you had that time yours was full of star fish and seaweed.’ He pauses and stares at me very hard. ‘You do remember that night?’
As if I’d forget. ‘My long lost mer-brother just washed up from the beach. It could have been him you saw.’ I might as well come clean here, but at the same time I don’t want to make it a huge deal. ‘I’d rathernotmeet him again. In fact, I didn’t meet him properly this time. So, if he comes looking please don’t tell him where I am or which one’s me.’ I could do with texting the girls too.
Charlie tugs at his hair. ‘You aren’t serious?’ He scours my face to check. ‘Shit, youdomean it. Talk about complicated. Are you hiding out then?’
I hate sounding melodramatic. ‘Put it this way, I won’t be answering the door this weekend.’ Except to a crowd of Pavlova fans, obviously. I need to move this on to somewhere less excruciating and more jokey. ‘Luckily I’d stocked up at the bakery just before. With this lot on board I won’t need to leave the office for at least a month.’
He takes the bait. ‘So let me guess … is it Fabulous Friday, or Office Cake Day? Or did someone turn forty?’ He comes in for a closer look. ‘Okay, no candles, so I’m guessing it’s not a birthday?’
George sends me a mischievous twinkle. ‘Crusty Cobs are doingAll you can eatcake offers.’
The mention ofAll you can eatconfectionary, and Charlie’s tongue is hanging out so far it’s practically touching the desk. ‘That’s a huge amount of patisserie even by my standards.’
I laugh. ‘Buy six, get two free, what’s not to like?’
George can’t resist the tease. ‘Sorry, only for workers stranded in offices. Roving developers have to make do with afternoon tea at the Harbourside Hotel.’
Despite my resolve, the dents under Charlie’s cheekbones get the better of me. ‘He’s winding you up. You can tryone. But I know what you’re like, I’ve seen you inhale meringues, so don’t eat them all.’
His nostrils are quivering as his hand hovers. ‘Thanks, I’ll go for the brownie.’
‘No surprise there, Hobson.’ However fast he hoovers sorbet, it’s no secret that sticky chocolate is his favourite. Every time.
He takes a bite and his pupils go dark as he chews. Then he stops eating for long enough to send me a half grin. ‘Hey, Egg-head, now you’ve got the hang of meringues how about I teach you brownies for your next trick?’
George laughs. ‘They were talking about your “meringue on the head” incident in the Parrot and Pirate last night. You’re a local legend apparently.’
I let out a horrified squawk at how fast and far news spreads. ‘How the hell did that get out?’ I did tell Nell, Plum and Sophie, but they’re totally water-tight with secrets. Only one other person knew about it, and I’m fixing him with my hardest stare.
Charlie’s face crinkles. ‘Oh, jeez, that might have been me. When I let Dainty Dusters in downstairs for their sparkle clean, I told them about the mess theyweren’thaving to clear up upstairs. I’m sorry, I assumed they’d be discrete.’
It’s only thanks to Denise sharing her indiscretions with Sophie that we’re here now, so I’m not going to dwell on it. Instead I turn to George. ‘I thought you didn’t go out?’
George looks mystified. ‘Who said that?’ Then a smile of recognition spreads across his face. ‘I avoid singles’ nights like the plague, but if apple crumble ever comes onto the menu at one of these seconds evenings they do at yours, I may have to reconsider.’
I’m opening and shutting my mouth in panic. George just jammed enough references into that sentence to hang me. It’s lucky that as yet Charlie’s too absorbed in his brownie to react. There’s only one topic that’s startling enough to save me here. I might as well go for it.
‘So moving on from cake … seeing as we’re all here together …’ I wait until they’ve both looked up from their serviettes. Then I launch. ‘Who owns the other the flats in Seaspray Cottage?’
George swallows, clears his throat and locks his eyes on a spot six inches to the left of the kitchen door handle. So that’s him out of the game for now.
I jump in again and this time I fire my question directly at Charlie. ‘Weren’t you the one who mentioned that the Residents’ Committee keeps an up-to-date list of owners for admin purposes?’ I send a silent thank-you winging across the airwaves to Janet, because without this gem of hers I suspect I would still be hitting a brick wall. Since the day Charlie wheeled lunch over on his hostess trolley, he’s splurged so much information he can’t have kept track of it all. ‘So it must be common knowledge rather than confidential.’
George’s expression lifts, but before he has chance to speak, Charlie’s in there.
‘It’s not a secret, and now is an ideal time to clear it up. All the flats in Seaspray Cottage belong to me, except for Laura’s. Okay?’ He’s trying to sound ice cool, but the waver in his voice says he’s anything but.
‘Thanks for being so straight forward about that.’ My gratitude’s wholly ironic. Somehow I’m trying to tie this in with the guy who’s been wafting in and out of my flat these last few weeks, pretending – in between the worst bouts of territoriality – to be a bestie. Which he patently isn’t, because if he were he’d have been open about this from the start.
‘I prefer not to shout it all over town.’ There’s a concerned note in his voice. ‘Gossip travels fast, and usually to the wrong places.’
I’m with him on that. ‘As I know to my cost. I’d be happier if the whole damned area didn’t know I tipped egg white over my own head.’ I won’t forget this in a hurry. ‘Just saying.’
Charlie rolls his eyes and his lips twitch. ‘I’m sorry about the meringue leak.’ An apology is a first. His voice goes grave again. ‘But there’s a lot less at stake with that than with the cottage.’
