Helping herself to a packet of tomato-ketchup crisps, Beth allowed herself a sly smirk at winding up Kieran. In truth, she loved mayonnaise – or to be more precise, its fancier cousin aioli, with all its garlicky goodness. Oh, and his face when she revealed that the brownies contained black beans!
Beth gave the place a perfunctory tidy. Not that it needed much since Diana’s visit. Diana and Luke had a lot in common. Both were neat freaks, unable to settle until they’d rinsed the last coffee cup, wiped down every surface, straightened the towels and ensured the toilet roll faced the right way.
Are you like that, Kieran?
Beth gasped at the unexpected thought. What did it matter if Kieran liked things spick and span or dwelt in a pigsty? It was no business of hers.
With nothing else to occupy her, Beth found herself drawn to the basement. No one else was in the pub. It was a chance to lay to rest the nonsense that needed to be swept from her cluttered mind.
Beth approached the silent machine. Silent briefly, then… A faint whirr, one bulb flickering. The right flipper twitched like a dying fish.
‘No. No, no, no. This isn’t happening again.’
‘And yet here you are. Couldn’t stay away, could you?’
Beth shook her head so hard that she felt dizzy.That bang on the head must have done more damage than I thought.
‘Poor Beth. Brain all scrambled. Shame hallucinations don’t usually spit out coins.’
A coin clattered into the return tray.
Beth backed away. ‘You’re not real. You’re … some kind of wiring fault. Dodgy electrics.’
‘Wiring fault? Darling, I pre-date half the sockets in this place. Call me vintage. Oh, and the name’s Gigi, in case you’d forgotten.’
Beth bent hesitantly and picked up the coin.
‘Careful. Coins aren’t just tokens: they bind. Spend one, and you’re in my game.’
Beth swallowed hard.‘What happens if I walk away?’
Gigi gave a teasing laugh.‘I’ll wait. Machines are patient. People, not so much.’
Beth watched, mouth agape, as the score display reset, letters forming slowly: B-E-T-H.
‘Oh my God.’ She needed to run, right now. Leave the basement, leave the pub, leave Cranley.
‘Oh, we’re not finished, Beth. We haven’t even started.’
Then the lights went out.
Chapter Sixteen
Kieran was on the brink of throwing his laptop out of the nearest window.
Despite hours of tweaking, adjusting, and swearing under his breath, Kieran couldn’t get the prototype of ClosetAura to look good enough or function anywhere near well enough for potential investors. Its Unique Selling Point had vanished somewhere between his third and fourth caffeine hit, his business model had more holes than a chunk of Swiss cheese, and the list of potential investors felt like a roll call of unattainable gods.
‘Maybe I should quit and take up something less painful. Like sword swallowing.’ Kieran eyed Prom, who miaowed with leisurely contempt.
‘Thank you, that’s very motivating,’ Kieran grumbled.
His phone rang. He braced himself. Only one person he knew used that ringtone.
‘How’s it going, son?’ bellowed his dad, Roger. Kieran held the phone at arm’s length. Even so, Prom winced.
‘Pretty crap, to be honest.’
‘You’re not still pining for that Lisa, are you?’
