Robina looked amused. ‘I doubt Ru knows much about the community centre. We don’t do joining in, do we, Ru? We’re more . . . free spirits! Eh, Sophie?’
Sophie beamed. Her hair, now it was free of its hairnet, hung straight to her shoulders. ‘That’s us.’
‘So, how was Crusty, at the hospital?’ broke in Ru.
‘Kirstyis still quite ill.’ Robina frowned. ‘Bloody doctors have no idea what’s wrong with her. “It’s a virus,” they say, but they don’t know which. Or how to treat her. They try her with no-good crap medicine and it has no effect. I took her St. John’s Wort and echinacea.’
‘Your friend sounds really sick,’ Honor commiserated. ‘I guess the St John’s will help if she’s feeling down and the echinacea is to help her immune system?’
Robina shifted on her leather-sandalled feet, then changed the subject, making Honor suspect that she had no idea about herbal properties and had simply grabbed a couple of things from the holistic health shop at Starboard Walk. ‘So, Ru, my little Ru, I’m afraid you’re going to have to help us out for the summer. Kirsty isn’t going to be well enough to work for weeks.’
‘Shit,’ muttered Ru.
Honor looked into his lean, sad face. ‘You weren’t looking for a summer job?’
‘I just got one.’ He shot a defiant look at his mother. ‘Taking money on a ride on the seafront in Brighton. It’s really cool on the rides. It’s wicked, Brighton.’
‘But Kirsty’s ill,’ Robina pointed out, delving into a large, green canvas bag embroidered with peacocks. ‘Me and Sophie can’t manage, Ru.’
‘Not on our own,’ agreed Sophie.
‘Put a card up in the window,’ Rufus wheedled. ‘Get someone.’
Pulling out her keys, Robina waved them around, as if wiping his words from the evening air. ‘I can’t get my head round interviewing and all that stuff. If I put a card up I’ll be mobbed. C’mon, Ru, don’t give me a hard time.’
Ru hunched even more. ‘You just can’t be bothered.’
Robina gave him a hug. ‘Don’t be grouchy, little Ru!’
Ru accepted the embrace but his brows lowered over stormy milk-chocolate eyes. Honor could see why he’d hate to give up a summer job on the Brighton seafront in favour of serving cake in his mother’s tearoom. Eastingdean’s aging holidaymakers wore comfy clothes and sensible shoes, whereas Brighton’s rides would attract crowds of giggling girls with short skirts and high heels. The rides would be a lot better for him. He’d have fun.
She opened her mouth and words slid out. ‘How about me?’
Robina cocked her head. ‘You?’
‘I’m working as a waitress for a catering company in Brighton but I’m looking for something else. I’ve worked in coffee shops before, when I was in school. I only expect to make minimum wage and I’m a local girl until September.’ She already knew enough about Robina to know that what she was suggesting was not necessarily a good idea, but Ru was looking at her with such blissed-out hope that the words just kept on coming. ‘My name’s Honor Sontag. Why don’t you give me a try?’
‘Yeah, Mum, give her a try,’ Rufus urged.
Robina frowned. ‘What’s wrong with the job you’ve got?’
‘It stinks.’
Sophie giggled. ‘She sounds OK, Robbie.’
Robina shrugged, as if who worked in the tearoom was of no importance, just so long as someone did. ‘OK. Come tomorrow, about eleven.’
And she brushed past, up the passage to a side door with a light that came on as she approached, Sophie scurrying after.
Ru didn’t follow. He leaned against the wall, his hair blowing in the wind until the door had shut behind his mother and Sophie. ‘Good one. Thought I was going to be stuck with a crap summer.’
‘You don’t like working for your mom?’
‘She’s OK as long as other people do the donkey work and she’s free to make her work-of-art cakes. Soppy Sophie does my head in, though. Crusty isn’t quite so bad but Soppy is so giggly.’ He grimaced. ‘But watch her. She’s sweet as pie only so long as Mum likes you.’
Honor pulled a face. ‘Maybe I ought to reconsider—’
He grinned and amended, hastily, ‘You’ll love them.’ And, as if to stop her thinking about the subject too deeply, ‘Are you seeing that Martyn Mayfair? Him from the buses?’
