His eyebrows rise. ‘Say no more. Your secret’s safe with me.’
I twist the hem of my starry top around my waist and pull hard. ‘Tip number one for living your best life – leave the past behind and make a new start.’
Seeing he’s taken the similarly extreme step of abandoning the city for a beach hut, I’d expected this to resonate enough to get a come-back. Not that I have any interest in his situationat all, which is good because his attention has moved to the china stacked on the table. ‘Are you servingbreakfast?’
I hesitate. ‘I had a special request.’ Then I remember I’m charging so much it’s worth giving up my own serving. ‘There’s one portion left if you’re interested?’
‘I have clients due very soon, so I’d need that to take away. I’m also swimming without cash.’ He slaps the non-existent pocket on his buttock, then smiles hopefully. ‘I could pay when I returned the dish.’ My eyes sting as I watch his palm collide with the place where his back pocket should be.
‘Cup. It comes in a cup.’ It’s well worth me being hungry if I can wave him off and get on with the rest of my day. ‘And it costs ten pounds.’ It’s not just inflation due to being the High Tides end of the beach. This really has to be a one-off. ‘ I’ll get it now.’
And as I press the orange and brown cup into his hand and watch him dash across the dune a few minutes later, I promise myself this is my last-ever transaction.
Then my phone pings, and the message from Nell takes my mind to another level entirely.
Singles club pub and pie ramble tomorrow night! 7.30 at the Yellow Canary! I’ve told Kit about it!
When it comes to singles events, Nell doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. How the hell can I get out of this?
A fake business, customers at dawn, a smoking-hot neighbour, and singles club to dodge – I’d have had more peace if I’d set up camp in Trafalgar Square.
6
The Hideaway, St Aidan
Runaway trains and things in drawers
Saturday
‘Customers, so quickly!’
‘Coming back for seconds, too!’
So much for low footfall at this end of the beach. With Nell, Plum, Clemmie, Sophieandthree of her four kids joining Shadow and me for our early-morning beach walk, it’s like high summer by the donut stall.
It’s Saturday morning and the wind coming straight into our faces blows most of our conversation away, which means we pass the hotel without comment. It’s only as we reach the castle at Comet Cove and turn around that we start to chat properly. As we head back towards St Aidan, suddenly no one’s holding back with their enthusiasm for what’s been happening on my veranda since Nell and Plum were last here. Secrets are hard to keep in St Aidan at the best of times. With Jean’s #CocoPopswithFlorenceMay@TheHideawayInsta posts, my stealth mode was blown in two seconds flat.
And when Jean and Shirley promised to drop by again with their cash, no part of me thought they meant they’d come again today, even less that they’d be pleading for a second round of daybreak desserts. Shadow was still in bed and didn’t bother to stir when they appeared at the French windows today, and me hopping around, pulling up my shorts, opening the door chewing on a toothbrush, finger-drying my hair trying to get ready for the gang to arrive wasn’t my best look.
I have to protest before they get properly carried away. ‘They’renot clients, they’re acquaintances. Ephemeral ones.’
Nell lets out a snort. ‘Say that again in Cornish please, Mrs.’
I laugh. ‘They’re simply friends passing through, whowon’tbe getting loyalty cards.’ If I get my way, they won’t be coming again either.
When did my life get this complicated? Here Shadow and I are, tripping over seaweed strands, kicking through salty shingle, when we should still be snoozing under the duvet. All because the only way I could distract Nell from her singles club event last night was by suggesting a morning outing with her and Clemmie instead,which everyone else decided to join in too.
Plum gives me a sideways glance. ‘So what exactly istoffee crackle?’
I’m not even sure what she’s doing here when she should be opening her gallery. It’s hard to sound like a bake-off contestant when I threw today’s mix together even faster than yesterday. ‘Teensy scoops of salted caramel ice cream, and Crunchy Nut Cornflake garnish. With a plastic flamingo to finish and a dribble of carton custard – in a cup, because that’s all I had.’ And even though I was rushing, I did ask about allergies.
‘If I hadn’t had three bacon baps at Clemmie’s already, I’d have needed one myself.’ Nell’s licking her lips as she strides along the tide line, pausing every now and then to throw sticks for Clemmie’s dog Diesel, while Shadow looks on with a mix of disdain and disbelief, except when the waves come too close, and then he starts barking at the sea.
Clemmie’s grinning at me over the top of Arnie, who’s tucked in a sling on her front. ‘I can’t fault you on the embellishment.’
I can’t take all the credit for that. ‘Ivy’s drawers are bursting with them. The best part is they’re reusable.’ Not that I’ll be exploiting that, because this was definitely my last hurrah.
Milla, Sophie’s teenage daughter, re-ties her silky blonde hair in a scrunchie, then catches her younger sister Tilly’s hand, and they fall into step beside me. ‘Would we be able to hold Shadow on the way back?’ Her broad smile is as persuasive as her mum’s. ‘Tilly’s never led a dog before, and I think she’d love it.’
