His expression slides to a new level of scepticism. ‘I sincerely doubt Nell did, seeing as she and George weren’t actually speaking until recently.’
Now I’m the one sounding incredulous. ‘When were they not talking?’ That has to be bullshit.
Charlie shakes his head. ‘Never mind that now. But what if the neighbours complain to the council? They’ll be down on you like a ton of bricks.’
I can’t believe he’s being so hypocritical. Or even worse, that I was about to snog his face off. ‘In case you’re forgetting, youarethe neighbour. You actually accepted a tip the other night too.’
His nostrils flare. ‘Slagging me off isn’t helpful, Clems, so let’s stop this now.’
‘Actually, I’ve barely started. This should be about give and take. From my side, I provide with you enough sugar calories to keep a lumberjack going, your dog comes in and eats my sandwiches, your mum’s cat’s been living here for months …andI empty her litter trays …’
He snaps back. ‘If Pancake’s a problem, give me the food, she can come back to mine now.’ He makes a grab for the shrimp and quinoa gourmet pouches he dropped on the table earlier.
I’m shooting myself in the foot here. Pancake used to purr on the pillow and block out the sound of the sea so I could sleep. But these days she’s been curling up under my chin or in the hollow of my stomach while we happily drift off together with the crash of the waves in the background. If it’s low tide and the waves are distant I often toss and turn until the tide turns. Without her the bedroom would feel so empty I doubt I’d be able to sleep at all, so I need to back pedal here, and fast.
I screw myself up for a climb down. ‘Pan-pan’s actually fine. I’d like her to stay.’ However cross I am, the quickest way to get what I want here will be to beg. ‘All I’m asking is a couple of weeks’ more parties, so I’ll have enough to pay for the roof. Then I’ll be out of your hair.’
He takes a moment to consider. ‘Okay, I’ll go with that. But don’t be too blatant. You’re the one I’m concerned about here. I’d hate you to come unstuck over this.’
And this is the tester. ‘I’m assuming you’re no longer interested in payment for your trouble in puddings?’
His appalled expression is a picture. ‘There’s no need for the puddings to stop.’
And we’re almost back where we started. I have to throw one last thought out there, without giving too much away. ‘And seeing I’m still not on theSunday TimesRich List, I’m thinking I might have to offer you first dibs on the flat after all. Just so you know.’ I’m expecting him to jump and punch the air, then come and knock my hand off. But he doesn’t even flinch.
Instead, he frowns. ‘We don’t need to rush into anything. See what Nell and George put together next week, and we’ll take it from there.’ He finally let’s go of my arm, and a minute later he’s gathered his shit pile and he’s in the doorway.
I’m rubbing my elbow and trying to drag in some oxygen because he seems to have taken all the air with him. ‘Thanks, Charlie.’
‘Keep the noise down tonight.’ He’s almost grinning. ‘And if you’re doing melt in the middles make mine a double. With pouring cream, please.’ And then he’s gone.
It’s only half an hour later that I realise Diesel’s still with me, curled up under the table.
30
On the quayside at St Aidan Harbour
Webbed feet and sea scouts
Sunday afternoon
It could have been worse. If Charlie had found out the truth about the parties earlier, we’d never have got the ten grand together. This way, we just might. And when you think of all the times we almost gave ourselves away we’ve done well. I’ve always known it was precarious hiding behind the Singles’ Club front. With the flat not up to standard we could never do that in the long term, but it’s one of those maddening situations. If the flat was done, I could use it to earn back the cost of the work. But without the money there won’t be any repairs. Whenever I think of having to leave all my newfound memories behind I understand why people talk about bleeding hearts. That’s the way mine feels.
Whatever wizardry the Breakfast Club work with their figures, I’m pretty much stuffed all ways. The best I can hope for is to pay the ten grand off and make the flat more salable. Although I think we all know who’s going to end up buying it. When I think of Charlie the day he told me about his loss, I’m happy for him to be the one to have it. When he comes in ranting about regulations, not so much.
As for today’s boat trip, despite spending the last five days thinking up more and more outrageous reasonsnotto come, it’s two on Sunday afternoon, and I’m here on the quay, waiting for my turn to get ferried across to the boat, on a dinghy of all things. I’d rather express my mermaid connections from the comfort of a sandy beach or a rock pile. Back in the day us mermaids did all our swimming badges so we’re like proverbial fish in the sea. Actually, beingonthe ocean in a heaving plastic tub has much less appeal.
Note to self: when it comes to getting what I want I’ve got a lot to learn.
‘Hey, cool cardigan, it looks great over the top of your buoyancy aid.’ As I stuff my strappy heels into a bag and hold it out to Plum she’s tweaking the long bit at the back of my cardi, hanging on to Diesel’s lead with her other hand. ‘If that’s the kind of stuff they’re selling in the Cats’ Protection shop I need to go in.’
I laugh and pull it closer around my bare legs. ‘I didn’t notice any overalls in there when I was last in.’ It’s a relief she’s commenting on the cardi rather than my shorts or the Converse I’m finally tying up now. Despite the shimmer they still make my legs look like they’re stocky enough to hold up the jetty. As for the buoyancy aid, no one can look sylphlike in one of those so that’s a leveller in a good way. I’m not about to let on, but this particular cardi hasn’t been anywhere near a charity shop. It’s yet another piece of pricey Hobson kit, whipped out of a carrier like a rabbit from a hat in my kitchen a mere half an hour ago, leaving no opportunity for me to find an excuse not to wear it.
‘The crushed pink is perfect with your hair, it’s like Pantone Pale Dogwood. Is it cashmere?’ Plum always identifies colours in terms of her artist materials. She’s spot on with the fabric too, but I’ll fudge that.
‘Cashmere from a charity shop, you are joking me? It’s probably cotton and viscose.’ I give Diesel’s ears a tickle and look back at Plum. ‘Is Diesel going to be okay up at the gallery?’ As looking after Diesel was my main ploy to miss the boat trip, I was miffed that Charlie talked Plum into doing it instead, in another last-minute strike. That’s the trouble with Charlie being an all-round do-gooder these days. What with him stepping in to buy Sophie’s farmandcommissioning Plum, everyone’s bending over backwards to do whatever he asks. And now I come to think about it late ambushes seem to be a recurring theme for him too.
Plum’s squinting at the dinghy bobbing its way back towards the stone steps that lead down to the water. ‘Diesel will be fine. I bumped into Joe in town last night and he said he might wander down and help keep an eye on him.’
