Beth frowned. She couldn’t remember what she’d told Diana and didn’t know how things stood between Kieran and Lisa. ‘She’s still in Cranley, I think, sort of living with him. Well, notlivingwith him – I don’t think he wants that – but she’s persistent.’
‘Reminds me of a client I once went out with,’ Diana said, splashing hot sauce onto her noodles. ‘Lovely muscles, terrible brain. After one date I knew it wouldn’t work.’
‘Because?’
‘Because the size of his muscles greatly exceeded the size of his intellect. And after trying to let him down gently, Shit-for-Brains messaged me multiple times a day saying how perfect we were together.’
‘Blocked?’
Diana shuddered. ‘Absolutely. Once I’d steered him towards another physio practice.’
They devoured the food, then Diana rooted through her freezer for dessert. ‘We need a sweet ending.’
She unearthed brownies, vanilla ice cream, and an alarming number of half-empty nut packets. ‘Work your culinary magic, girlfriend.’
Beth smiled and improvised a caramel sauce. The familiar rhythm of whisking and stirring soothed her.
‘So, Kieran,’ Diana said, spoon in hand. ‘What’s the hold-up?’
Beth tried to put words to the knot of feelings inside her. The attraction was there – was obvious – but acting on it? She’d only just closed the door on Luke. And Kieran still had Lisa’s shadow in his life.
‘Stop overthinking,’ Diana said firmly. ‘Ask him out. What’s the worst that could happen?’
Beth went to bed replaying those words.Ask him out. What’s the worst that could happen?
The next morning, the journey back to Cranley was crisp and sunlit. Diana’s advice looped through her head like a mantra.
He could say no, said her inner pessimist.
Or he could say yes,another voice countered. Definitely Gigi.
Beth walked into the pub and stopped dead.
There, gleaming beside the bar, was the pinball machine.
Herpinball machine.
For a moment, she could only stare. Torn between bolting and giving Ed a piece of her mind, she watched him crouched by the power cable, screwdriver in hand. Two other newcomers had joined it: a vintage jukebox and an ancient fruit machine with a lever like a pirate’s prosthetic.
‘That’s a one-armed bandit,’ said Jimmy, appearing at her elbow in a fog of whisky fumes. ‘They don’t make ’em like that anymore.’
‘Fascinating,’ Beth managed.
Angela swooped in and steered Jimmy to safety. ‘What do you think, Beth?’
What did she think? That the universe had gone utterly rogue. With Gigi loose in the main bar, anything could happen. He’d caused enough chaos in the basement.
‘Beth, how did you get this thing to work before?’ Ed called, tightening a screw.
‘I … well … I just plugged it in.’
‘Let’s see. Moment of truth.’ Ed plugged in all three machines. ‘Bingo!’
The pub lights dimmed. The jukebox roared to life with Coldplay’s‘Arabesque’, while the pinball machine flared gold and hummed like an orchestra tuning up.
‘That issocool!’ Rose bounded in, followed by a wide-eyed Mags.
‘It’s all very noisy,’ Mags said primly. ‘Can we make it quieter?’
