‘Fascinating,’ said Beth, though her tone suggested she’d rather discuss root-canal surgery.
‘Listen, Beth, I’d like to see you before I go.’
A silky whisper rippled through her ear, unmistakably Gigi’s voice.Tell him to take a long walk off a short cliff, sugarplum.
Beth clenched her teeth. ‘Luke, I’m not sure there’s much point. Unless you want to discuss a divorce.’
He inhaled sharply. ‘Divorce? Beth, I don’t think we need to go down that path yet.’
‘Really? You’ve made no move to come back, no suggestion we try again. What exactly are we waiting for? The moment you meet some winsome islander with a fully functional womb?’
‘That’s a cheap shot,’ Luke snapped. Then, louder, ‘Mum, I’m coming, all right?’
And then he was gone, the call ending with a mumbled apology and a beep that left Beth staring at her phone in disbelief.
He hadn’t asked about her job. Hadn’t asked if she was happy, or safe.
He just wanted to announce his next reinvention and collect his bloody picture frames.
‘Selfish pig,’ she muttered, shoving the phone into her pocket.
Anger coursed through her as she stomped downstairs to the bar, desperate for a distraction. Ed and Angela were huddled by the counter, heads close, expressions grim.
‘What’s up?’ she asked, seizing the chance to put Luke out of her mind.
‘Look around, Beth,’ said Ed, his voice heavy.
Beth turned. The pub was empty, apart from an elderly couple nursing Diet Cokes in the corner, staring into the middle distance as if life had personally offended them.
‘There’s hardly anyone here,’ she said.
‘Exactly,’ said Angela. ‘It’s like a morgue. We’ve barely covered costs this week.’
Beth felt the optimism drain out of her. Maybe she’d been too ambitious, too quick to change things. Maybe Cranley didn’twantmodern menus or quirky cocktails.
‘Things’ll pick up,’ she said, forcing cheer she didn’t feel. ‘Once word spreads.’
‘Let’s hope so,’ said Ed. ‘But unless a coachload of tourists appears in the next ten minutes, you won’t be serving much food today. Rose is in the kitchen, leave her to it for now.’
Beth nodded, trying to look grateful rather than defeated, and trudged back upstairs.
Halfway up, she paused, hand on the banister.
If business didn’t recover, she could lose this job – the one stable thing she had left.
Her thoughts drifted inevitably to the pinball machine.
Its shimmer. Its promises.
The genie’s words.
You’ve got two wishes left, sweetheart.
Beth sat on her bed, staring at her phone as if it might offer an answer.
‘Should I?’ she whispered into the stillness.
Down below, she could almost hear the faint, teasing jingle of bells and bumpers. And the softest of voices, half amusement, half challenge:
