‘The strongest I’ve got here is lemongrass and elderflower.’
Scarlett’s straight back at me. ‘In that case, you’re going to have to run along to Jaggers Bar. I’ll FaceTime you once you’re there, and we’ll talk this through one cocktail at a time.’
Only Scarlett would be this prescriptive. ‘Remind me which it is?’
Scarlett’s sigh is impatient. ‘The place I’ve got a tab, past the harbour, down by the beach, with purple plastic chairs and the twenty-four-seven happy hour. If you run, you’ll be there in ten. Go to the bar, ask for Paul, and he’ll charge it all to me.’ Scarlett sniffs. ‘Quick as you can, please. My life is teetering on the edge.’
My chest contracts. ‘I’m on it, Scarlie. I’ll call you when I’m there.’
She’s still organised enough to snap back. ‘I’ll ring ahead and get your drinks in. Just go as fast as you can.’
22
Jaggers Bar, St Aidan
Sunsets, big calls and high perches
Friday
Even though it’s not especially warm, when I sprint up from the beach, the harbourside is as busy as you’d expect for a Friday evening in late May, with weekend visitors thronging the streets. As I reach the part of the beach where Jaggers Bar runs out onto the sands, the groups milling on the terrace outside look a lot like I did when I was eighteen and hell-bent on a party. I slide between them, ask myself where the heck the last ten years have gone, then ease my way into the large open building and pick my way past the crowds. When I finally make it to the bar, a barman catches my eye.
‘Hi, I’m Paul. You must be Betty?’ He holds out his hand and grasps mine for a second. ‘When Scarlett said look out for net skirts and hot pants, she was bang on.’
I wipe the sweat off my forehead and gasp to get my breath back. ‘I came straight off the sofa, Scarlett said it was urgent.’
Paul smiles. ‘She wanted you to have Manhattans, but they’re a bit grown up for us, so we settled on tequila sunrises.’
‘Good choice. Retro but cool.’ It was Mum’s favourite drink from the seventies. Better still, they’re easy to drink.
Paul is busy with ice and mixers. ‘We usually serve in jugs, but Scarlett asked for glasses. She’s insisting I line you up four to begin with?’
As I scramble onto a red velvet stool he’s obviously waiting for my input. ‘Two tequilas and two mojitos might work better– just to ring the changes.’ The buns were the last thing I had to eat, but that was so long ago my stomach is growling with hunger. ‘Do you have a food menu?’
Paul shrugs. ‘We’re liquid only, I’m afraid.’
I watch Paul put down a highball tumbler full of rosy, orange liquid and ice, and balance an umbrella on top, then explain. ‘I’ve done enough drinking to know– I’m a lightweight if I’m hungry.’
He’s trying to be helpful. ‘We can Deliveroo you some chips?’
‘Great idea.’ My mouth is already watering then my phone begins to ring. ‘It’s Scarlett. I’ll leave the food for now.’
A second later she’s staring out at me from my phone screen.
‘Bets! Where are your cocktails?’
I panne around with my phone to show her the full glasses arriving on the stainless-steel bar top, then pick up the first and take a long drink.
On the lopsided view her own row is mostly finished. ‘Weare going to get off our faces…’
I cut in. ‘Before we do, tell me about Tate.’
From the way she pushes her hair back and blows up her fringe I know she’s already tipsy. ‘He kept me away from the office until the party yesterday. You know when something slams you right in the face?’ Her hand flies down in front of the screen. ‘Splat!It was a complete “eyes wide open” moment.’
I’m thinking aloud. ‘Wasn’t the movieEyes Wide Shut?’
Scarlett blinks. ‘What movie?’
I’m frowning, trying to remember. ‘The one with Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman.’
