Again, Callie accepted the deflection in subject matter. Instead, she filled her daughter in on everything she knew about Johnny.
By the time she’d finished, the third wine bottle was empty and the candles had burned down low. When one puttered out with a hiss sending up a whisper of acrid smoke, Callie stretched. ‘Time for bed. It’s late, kiddo. You’re going to have to share with me, I’m afraid. This place has only got two bedrooms.’
Frida rose with a grumble. ‘Better get together with Mr Silver Fox as soon as, then, so I can have a bed to myself.’
‘Cheeky mare,’ her mother responded, as she collected the bottles and glasses and put them by the sink. ‘For that you can wash this lot up in the morning.’ Switching off the lights with a yawn she led Frida along the hall to the stairs before stopping abruptly. ‘Oh, I thought you’d brought your case in? Don’t say you left it outside in the garden, Frida!’
‘Give up on the panicking, Mum. I left it here at the bottom.’ Taking the steep cottage stairs two at a time with enviable ease, she called down. ‘It’s here. I suppose Johnny must have brought it up.’
As Callie trudged up the stairs at a more sedate pace, she smiled to herself. Johnny Starling really was the nicest man.
Twenty-Three
SATURDAY MORNING 17TH AUGUST
Edouard Manet 1832–1883
French painter. Often painted café scenes and Parisien life. Examine ‘A Bar at the Folies-Bergere’. What do the details tell us? What is the relationship between the woman and the man?
(Taken from Calliope Thorne’s teaching notes.)
In the morning Callie came down to a snoozing Vinny. As she let him out into the garden, Grace rang to express her sincere thanks and to say she’d be along to collect him. When Callie explained she was going to the Art School later to judge the children’s painting competition, Grace said she’d meet her there.
After a quick breakfast and prising Frida out of bed and into the shower, they walked out into a sunlit, salty breeze filled summer’s day.
It was fun strolling along leading Vinny, who insisted on stopping every three paces to sniff. ‘He’s a real spaniel, isn’t he?’ Callie said, amused. There had been no sign of Johnny so she’d left a note to explain where Vinny had gone. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed by Johnny’s absence. Thefrustrated thrum in her body hadn’t gone away, no matter how cold she’d run the shower that morning.
Frida yawned. She wasn’t a morning person. ‘If you say so.’
‘He reminds me of Coco, Donna’s dog she had when she was a kid. Coco had the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen.’
‘I’ve never heard you mention Donna had a dog.’ Frida nodded down at Vinny, currently investigating a splash of melted ice cream. ‘It suits you having a dog. You look right together. Why don’t you get one? Might be fun.’
‘Oh yes. And when have I got the time to look after a dog?’
‘Yeah. Suppose. Suppose they’re a bit of a tie too. You know,’ Frida added impulsively, ‘when you get shot of me, you ought to go travelling.’
Callie looked askance at her daughter. Sometimes she felt as if she didn’t really know her. ‘You got plans to leave home?’
Frida scuffed her trainers on a ridge of sand. ‘Might do. Got to spread my wings at some point. It’s just deciding what I want to do, that’s all.’
‘You don’t see your future at Price’s?’ Having dropped out of her degree, Frida had most recently been working in an admin role for a local engineering company.
‘Get real. D’know there are women in that office who have been there since they were sixteen? Carol’s sixty-two andstillthere.’ Frida rolled her eyes. ‘I so don’t want that to be me.’
‘But whatdoyou want to do?’ Callie swallowed her exasperation with her daughter’s lack of direction and gathered Vinny in on a short lead as a family carrying bacon rolls wandered past. The smallest child held his just at the right height for a greedy spaniel to snaffle.
Frida gave a gutsy sigh. ‘That’s the prob. I’m not sure I know.’ There was the hint of an unattractive whine. ‘Did you always want to be a teacher?’
Callie thought back. At first, doing her teaching qualification had been the obvious choice and an escape route from her home life. Then, having done her first placements, she’d begun to love it. When Frida had come along, a job with security and good career progression was a no-brainer. The long summer holiday had been the ideal solution for childcare too. Now she had taught for over twenty years, she wasn’t sure she wanted to do it any longer. The spark, the drive, had gone. And young people deserved teachers who were fully committed to their education. She couldn’t say she was that person anymore. ‘I suppose,’ she said, lamely, unwilling to discuss it in any depth.
Having passed The Ice Cream Dream Kiosk and the yacht club they reached the Sea Spray Café. Callie waved to Tracey who was putting up the sun umbrellas.
‘Morning, maid,’ Tracey called out. She ambled over. ‘And who have we here?’
‘Hi, Tracey. This is my daughter, Frida. Frida, this is Tracey who runs the best café in Lullbury Bay.’
‘About that I cannot lie,’ Tracey replied, with a grin. She shoved a lock of pink curly hair behind her ear, squinting into the bright sunshine. ‘Nice to meet you, Frida. Not looking for a job, are you?’
