Christmas at the Beach Café: A Novella
Page 5
‘Shall I take that as a yes, then? Good for you, Evie. Get your kit off and let’s do this. He’ll be the happiest man alive on Christmas Day.’
‘I must be mad,’ I said, ‘but what the hell. You’re on.’
Giggling like idiots, we assembled my Miss December pose. In homage to the night Ed and I first kissed (and the rest, cough cough), for the purposes of the photo, I was going to be starkers apart from a chef’s apron, a cheeky smile and a string of red tinsel around my neck. Classy or what? ‘Oh, and these,’ Amber said, reappearing from where she’d been rummaging around upstairs. She shoved a pair of reindeer antlers on top of my head and stood back, giving me a critical once-over. ‘Perfect,’ she pronounced, grinning.
I stood in front of the café counter, under the gold and red ‘Merry Christmas’ banner, pouting, winking and blowing kisses as Amber snapped a series of photos.
‘These are awesome,’ Amber said. ‘Honey, you’re a natural. If you ever fall on hard times, I’m sure there’s a soft-porn film with your name on it somewhere.’
I threw a wooden spoon at her. ‘Oh, shut up. Are we done?’
‘We are totally done. Brilliant. Come and have a look and choose which one you like best.’
Not all the photos were amazing – I looked self-conscious and awkward in the first bunch, and the kiss-blowing ones weren’t exactly the sexbomb Marilyn Monroe look I’d intended, more a case of fish lips and squinting. The next few had a side-boob problem that I did not want in print, thank you very much. Just as I was starting to have my doubts about the whole idea (Kate Moss had nothing to worry about), Amber flicked to the next image: one of me laughing out loud, mouth open, nose wrinkled, eyes sparkly. Not a sexbomb, not a supermodel, just me having a laugh.
‘This one,’ we both said at once.
Decision made, we found a digital print website, uploaded all twelve photos and chose the style of calendar. According to the website, today was the last day that they were accepting Christmas orders so I paid five pounds extra for the express delivery, just to be on the safe side. Then we were home and dry, job done.
‘High five,’ I said as the confirmation email popped up. ‘Thank you so much. Couldn’t have done it without you.’
‘Dude, you are totally welcome,’ Amber replied. ‘And guess what, I haven’t thought about David all day. I haven’t even checked my phone for texts. Do you think that means I’m cured?’
‘Almost definitely,’ I told her, although I knew neither of us believed it. I went to get dressed again, feeling very cheerful. My present for Ed was sorted at last – and what was more, I was certain that he would love it. Now all I needed to do was wave goodbye to our guests, then put my feet up and really enjoy our perfect romantic Christmas. No problem.
Chapter Six
Ed and Jake came back from their surfing trip late in the afternoon, just as Amber was sliding a casserole dish of boeuf bourguignon into the oven. It was dark outside and the café was lit by the fairy lights on the tree, and both men sniffed appreciatively as they walked in.
‘And what have you two been up to today?’ Ed asked, bending his head to kiss me, his face cold and his hair still smelling faintly of the sea. ‘Apart from cooking something that smells fantastic, that is.’
Amber and I exchanged a look. ‘Would you believe me if I said stripping off for a naked session in the café?’ she teased, arching an eyebrow.
‘I’d very much like to believe that, yes,’ Jake said, his eyes lighting up at once. ‘Tell me more.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ I said. ‘A s if we’d do something like that.’
‘Yeah, right,’ Amber said, winking. ‘Of course we wouldn’t.’
Ed looked quizzically at me and I had to shrug and feign ignorance, all the while trying my hardest not to laugh. If only he knew. ‘Tomorrow,’ I said, changing the subject, ‘we really must get on with the recipe book, by the way, Ed. I know we’re too late to get it printed up for Christmas now, but it can be a happy new year present instead, if we finish it in the next few days. What do you think?’
‘What’s this? You’re writing a recipe book?’ Amber asked, before he could reply.
‘Didn’t I tell you?’ I said and explained my grand plans, deliberately not looking in Jake’s direction. ‘Unfortunately time has kind of whizzed by and we’re a bit behind schedule.’ I opened up the file on the laptop to show her. ‘Here,’ I said. ‘This is what we’ve done so far.’
She flipped through the finished pages on screen, and Jake sat next to her in order to see too. I couldn’t help but feel proud of how professional and attractive it all looked, even if I did say so myself: the photos bright and appetizing, the text clear and nicely laid out.
‘This is fab,’ Amber said, then reached the end all too soon. ‘Ahh. Is that it?’
‘’Fraid so. It’s taken a lot longer than we thought.’
‘And not helped by your boyfriend’s dreadful brother turning up and forcing you to get hammered with him every night either,’ Jake said, shooting me an amused look. You said it, I thought, giving him my fakest smile in return.
‘Well, we didn’t like to say . . .’ Ed joked, pretending to be annoyed.
‘Not to mention your best friend landing on your doorstep having a meltdown,’ Amber added, looking guilty.
‘No! Don’t be silly,’ I told her. ‘Anyway, I reckon we could get a good four or five new recipes in the bag tomorrow, if we really go for it, don’t you think, Ed? And if we keep that up, we’ll be fine for a January printing.’
‘We can help,’ Amber said at once. ‘Can’t we, Jake?’
‘You bet,’ he replied expansively. ‘Absolutely. We could even – ’
I never got to hear the end of his sentence. Nobody did. He was getting to his feet and knocked the table . . . and then we all watched in horror as the half-full bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon left over from the bourguignon toppled over as if in slow motion.
‘Whoa!’ I yelled, making a grab for it.
Too late. Red wine sloshed merrily into the keyboard, pouring through my fingers as I lunged for the bottle. A horrible fizzling sound came from the laptop, then the screen went completely blank.
‘No!’ I wailed, jabbing repeatedly at the buttons. Nothing happened.
‘Oh shit,’ Jake said. ‘Oh God. Sorry, mate. You had backed it up, hadn’t you?’
I couldn’t quite believe what had just taken place in front of my eyes. The moment kept repeating itself dizzyingly but I simply could not process it. I pressed the ‘On’ button again and again but the laptop remained unresponsive. ‘It’s dead,’ I said, feeling a wild sob building in my throat. ‘It’s completely dead.’
‘Evie?’ Amber prompted. ‘You did back it up, didn’t you?’
‘No,’ I croaked. I wasn’t sure if I was going to laugh in shocked hysteria or burst into tears. Of course I hadn’t backed it up. Because that would have been the sensible thing to do, the organized, capable, precautionary thing to do, and we all knew how stupid Evie Flynn was. ‘No, I didn’t back it up. We’ve lost it all.’
‘It might be okay when it dries out,’ Ed said, convincing no one.
‘I doubt it,’ I said sourly, ‘not with half a gallon of wine in there.’
‘I am so sorry,’ Jake said. ‘I feel terrible, Evie. I swear I’ll buy you a new one if this one is ruined.’
I wheeled round, glaring at him. ‘If it’s ruined? If ? Of course it’s bloody ruined, Jake, just like you intended.’
‘What?’ he yelped. ‘I didn’t mean to do that!’
Oh, save it for someone who believes you, I thought savagely. There was no stopping me now. ‘You’ve had it in for me ever since you got here,’ I snapped. ‘Stirring things up for me and Ed. I heard you, that first night, slagging this place off. Slagging me off! And now you’ve wrecked my laptop and the one nice thing I was trying to do for the community. Like you care though. Like you give a flying shit!’
‘Evie!’ cried Amber, eyes
wide.
‘Wait!’ cried Ed as I stormed past him.
I didn’t wait. Wait for what? Jake to deny everything and pretend he didn’t have a clue what I was on about? Ed to have another go at me about being mean to his precious brother? No way. Sod that. Shaking with rage, I marched out of the kitchen, shoved my feet in my boots, then stalked down to the beach. I was so angry I could have punched Jake right in his smug face. Aaargh! I wished he’d never come here. I wished he’d just shove off back to Thailand!
It was dark and cold outside, and I could hear that the sea was wild and stormy, with great breakers lashing onto the shore. Good. It suited my mood perfectly. I felt like never going back. I wouldn’t go back, I decided, crunching over the shingle, not until Jake had packed up and gone. I hated him!
I heard footsteps behind me then saw torchlight playing over the dark beach. Ed, probably, to tell me I’d got it all wrong about his perfect bloody brother. But I knew I hadn’t. If anyone had got it wrong, it was Ed.
‘Evie! Wait!’ came a voice.
Oh, great. It sounded more like Jake, not Ed. Well, he could get stuffed, I thought furiously. The last thing I felt like was any kind of conversation with him.
I went on walking, wrapping my arms around myself, wishing I had thought to grab my coat before I flounced out. The wind was rushing around my bare neck, snatching at my hair. Bloody Jake! It would be his fault if I froze to death out here. Then the torchlight fell on me and I knew he must have seen me. Damn. In the next moment, his footsteps quickened, scuffing over the sand, and I realized he was running towards me.
‘Go away!’ I yelled. ‘I don’t want to talk to you.’
‘Evie, I’m sorry,’ he shouted. ‘Please wait.’
Was I meant to believe that? Him, sorry? Yeah, right. ‘I said, GO AWAY!’ I bellowed.
Too late though. He’d caught me up. My hands balled into fists as he fell into step alongside me. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again. ‘Really, Evie. About the laptop . . . and everything else.’
‘Is that right,’ I replied, not even bothering to make it a question.
He sighed; a funny sound, almost lost in the wind. The torch beam wasn’t strong and I could only see his outline. I couldn’t help thinking what a ridiculous situation this was, the two of us having a stand-off, in near-darkness, on a beach.
Well, he started it, I thought sullenly in the next moment.
‘Come back to the café,’ he said. ‘Let me explain.’
‘You can explain right here,’ I told him, stopping dead. (Did I mention that I have this stubborn streak?)
‘Okay,’ he said, and sighed again. ‘The thing is, everything’s kind of . . . up in the air for me right now,’ he began tentatively. ‘I don’t have a job or a home; I’m not sure what I’m going to do.’
I shrugged even though he couldn’t see me. And you think I care about this because . . . ?
‘I guess I felt a bit . . . jealous,’ he said. ‘Jealous of Ed. He’s always fallen on his feet and come up smelling of roses. He makes a success of everything.’
I pursed my lips and said nothing.
‘Meanwhile, I’m the failure of the family,’ he said baldly. ‘I’ve never managed to do anything like Ed. No career. No proper girlfriend. I’ve been a waster my whole life.’
Even though I was still smarting, I was aware of a bell ringing inside me. A bell of recognition. ‘And you feel inadequate next to him, as if you’ll never be as good,’ I said, ‘and you resent him for that.’
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘That’s about the size of it.’
I let out a big breath. ‘Jake . . . Would you believe me if I said I knew exactly how you feel? I have the most perfect sisters in the world. Careers. Husbands. Children. The best hair ever. It’s enough to make you sick.’ I folded my arms across my chest. ‘I do understand, you know. But there was no need for you to take your feelings out on me. Because, like it or not, I’m the one person who gets where you’re coming from.’
He bowed his head, his expression unseeable in the dim torchbeam. ‘Sorry,’ he said quietly.
‘A s for all that Melissa shit,’ I went on. ‘Don’t you dare side with her. She nearly ruined Ed’s life. Your brother, who keeps defending you whenever I’ve tried to whinge about you in the last few days. Your brother, incidentally, who’s always told me stories about your travels around the world with what sounds like real envy and admiration in his voice.’
He said nothing for a moment and I wondered if I’d gone too far. ‘I kind of . . . exaggerated the Melissa thing,’ he mumbled.
‘So you’re not going to spend Christmas with her?’
‘No,’ he said.
Well, thank goodness for that. I congratulated myself silently for not having blurted the lie out to Ed at the time.
‘I swear I didn’t wreck your laptop on purpose. Honestly,’ he said eventually.
‘I know,’ I said, rather grudgingly. ‘That was just me boiling over because I’d had enough.’
We both started walking back towards the café. It glowed in the darkness, a beacon of light and warmth.
‘Look, I’ll shoot off tomorrow,’ he said awkwardly. ‘I’ve outstayed my welcome here, I know that.’
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘If that’s what you want to do.’ I hesitated. ‘What will you do?’
‘I’m not sure,’ he said. ‘Go to Mum and Dad’s for a bit, I guess. Look for a job.’
There was a new vulnerability in his voice and all of a sudden I felt sorry for him. ‘Listen, don’t worry about the whole I’m-not-as-good-as-Ed thing,’ I said in a rush. ‘You’re different, that’s all. Just like I’m different from my sisters. And I did the same as you, too: drifting here and there, not really settling down, right until this summer when I inherited the café. It was only then that I realized this is the right place for me, the right life. I bet there’s something out there that’s perfect for you, too. You just have to keep looking.’
‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I will.’ We’d reached the steps up to the café and he paused. I could see his face now, lit by the outside lamps on the decking, but his expression was wary. ‘Evie – are we cool? Can we . . . start again?’
‘Of course we can,’ I said, feeling my heart lift. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Let’s see if that bourguignon is ready.’
The next morning, a strange, unusually bright light was leaking through the curtains and as I pulled them back I saw that a thick blanket of glistening snow lay across the beach, covering the dunes. ‘It’s snowing!’ I cried excitedly. ‘Ed, wake up!’
Just like in my dream, fresh snow was tumbling down from the leaden sky, turning everything to white. The beach looked unnaturally dazzling and even the sea seemed chastened, down at low tide. ‘It’s so beautiful,’ I breathed, unable to stop gazing at the hypnotic, swirling flakes. Then I remembered that Jake and Amber had both said they’d be heading home today. Ahh.
‘Oh Lord,’ Amber groaned, as we ate breakfast. ‘It doesn’t show much sign of stopping any time soon, does it? I wonder what the trains are like. I hope they’re still running.’ She grabbed her phone. ‘Let’s see what my travel app has to say.’
As soon as she turned it on, her phone began beeping with texts, then ringing, and she glared at it, jabbing a button to block the call.
‘God, he’s persistent, isn’t he, old David?’ I said. ‘You have to hand it to him. Here, let’s look on mine instead.’
I didn’t have my mobile turned on all that often in Cornwall – reception was a bit hit and miss, depending on the weather, and our router sometimes dipped in and out, making the Wi-Fi unpredictable. Today when I switched it on though, I was able to get online straightaway and even heard the pinging noise of a few texts arriving too . . . followed by several more texts. Then yet more.
‘Blimey, what’s all this about?’ I wondered, going to my messages. My eyes widened as I saw how many people had sent them: Mum, Louise, Ruth, Isabelle, Betty . . . BETTY?
‘Oh no,’ Amber said. She was reading some of her texts. ‘I don’t believe it.’
‘What?’
‘My bloody agent let slip to some bastard celeb journalist that I’d come down here, and now . . .’ She passed me her phone. ‘Well, basically, you are half-naked in the Daily Star.’
‘What?’ I squawked, then my eyes almost dropped out of my head as I saw the headline on her browser.
‘AMBER’S LESBIAN LOVE TRIANGLE,’ I read in disbelief. ‘No way,’ I said, clapping my hand to my mouth. No wonder I had so many texts. Because there on screen was a colour photograph of me posing in my apron and lippy while Amber laughingly adjusted my reindeer antlers. You could actually see my bare bum. My bare bum was on page 7 of the Daily Star! I burst into shocked laughter. ‘They think we’re having an affair!’
‘Who’s having an affair?’ Ed said, walking into the kitchen at that moment.
By now I was verging on hysteria. It was the funniest, most bizarre thing I’d ever seen. ‘Me and Amber,’ I spluttered, showing him the picture. ‘We’re in the Star. Two sides of a lesbian love triangle. Did I not mention that?’
‘What . . . ? When was this taken? What were you doing?’ He stared at me, completely discombobulated.
I couldn’t actually speak for laughing any more. Amber, too, had tears rolling down her face. ‘This is brilliant,’ she gurgled. ‘Hilarious!’
‘“Sexy Amber Fox seems to be recovering from her recent split with David Maguire just fine,”’ I read aloud in a breathy voice. ‘“Hidden away down in Cornwall, we snapped her taking saucy photos of her mystery dark-haired lover” – oh my God. Unbelievable.’
‘I still don’t understand,’ Ed said, bewildered, looking from me to Amber and back again.
I couldn’t explain any of it without giving away his Christmas surprise so I was forced to give him another mysterious smile and tap my nose. ‘If I told you, I’d have to kill you,’ I said, then turned back to Amber as something struck me. ‘God, that photographer’s a sneaky git. He must have been weaselling around the whole village trying to track you down.’