The other thing it has done is make me prickle with rage every time I see Kit. I know he’s not involved directly, but as part of that whole next-door set-up, he’s implicated. I can’t help thinking of him as just another incomer, here on the make – so until he shows me otherwise, it’s probably best if I avoid him. Fine, his friend caught Shadow, but as I saved his social media stars from going rogue, that pretty much makes us quits. I can carry on my life without feeling I owe him anything.
As two o’clock approaches and the girls head down to the beach their screams go up a notch. The tide is out so they set up a volleyball net, using the excuse of firmer sand and a more level pitch to edge as far as they can towards the hotel grounds. Then they strip off their hoodies and start hurling themselves around, diving after the ball.
I murmur to Shadow as we watch them from the dune edge. ‘If they carry on shrieking this loud, I’m going to be back in Kit’s debt again before we can say “barking dog”.’ Not that I ever intend to think of him again.
As if to prove how wrong I can be, there’s a ping on my phone, and dammit, it’s Kit.
Any chance of some of those scones you made the other day?
I roll my eyes.
They were hard and rocky. Why would you want more? We have very tasty brownies, for sale by the steps.
Rye’s round, and he’s hungry. For the record, we’ve already demolished your brownie pile.
I turn around and see he’s right.
Why aren’t you working?
Ping.
Last minute cancellation due to illness.
Bad luck. Why not get scones from the hotel?
Ping.
Have you seen the menu? Lava cake and seaweed pancakes won’t touch the hunger pangs of a ravenous part-time fireman. Will it help if I beg?
What the hell?
My niece is here with nine friends.
Ping.
Sothatexplains the crowd. We thought it was Netflix casting for extras for aBaywatchremake.
No way I’m rising to that.
Ping.
You’re not that busy if you’re on the beach, playing with your phone. Not stalking, just saying. Please PLEASE PLEASE save us from hotel cakes. What kind of person wants sugar-free sponge?
I’m close to breaking.
It’s going to cost you.
Ping.
Big numbers don’t scare me – I deal in diamonds, don’t forget.
Sometimes it’s more effort to resist than to cave.
With sultanas?
Ping.
An unequivocal yes to dried fruit, and we’ll take as many as you can give us, Rye is a scone fiend. Pop round to pick them up in thirty?
