‘Splendid.’ He handed over the bag with a broad smile. ‘I know you’ll do Eleanor proud, Beth.’
It was hard to talk around the sudden lump in her throat, so she settled for a nod and a slightly watery smile. Hands full, she pushed the gate closed behind him; locking it seemed like overkill, it wasn’t as though she was living in a high-crime area of London anymore. The only people who came to the back door were delivery men, and her friends. Entering the house, she kicked the back door shut with her heel. The Yale lock clicked into place and she used her elbow to push the deadlock button up. More than enough security.
She carried the food into the living room, to find Libby had opened another bottle of wine and laid out sheets of kitchen paper to use as napkins. Eliza took the pizza boxes from her hand, then noticed the carrier bag swinging from Beth’s fingers. ‘What’s that? Garlic bread?’
Beth shook her head. ‘That should be in the top box, I think. This is Gina’s homemade tiramisu—her treat. I’ll just pop it in the fridge for later.’
By the time she returned, Eliza had ripped the lid off one of the boxes and shovelled half the Hawaiian pizza together with several slices of garlic bread on to it. She slid it across the coffee table towards Beth and she sank into an armchair with a sigh. ‘Gina’s expecting a grand opening for the emporium.’
Libby paused with a slice of pizza just inches from her lips. ‘The whole town is, B, I assumed you’d realise that.’
Groaning, Beth snatched up her wine glass and took a swig. ‘Tell me you’re kidding? I was hoping for something quiet.’ She still had serious doubts about whether she could make a go of things, and hosting a big party felt like a commitment she wasn’t sure she was ready to make. Easter would be the real test, so she’d give herself until the end of April and then sit down to evaluate her options. She’d keep that to herself for now; as much as she loved her friends, it had to be a decision for her and her alone.
‘Fat chance of that around here. This is the most exciting thing that’s happened since the newsagents rearranged their shelves last summer. Face it, you’re the talk of the town.’ Libby stuffed half the slice in her mouth and began to chew, which must have been tough given the huge bloody smirk on her face.
‘Just imagine what they’ll be saying once they find out you’ve been smooching the boy next door,’ Eliza added, tartly.
‘What? Oh, God, don’t even go there. It was two kisses.’ Two of the best kisses she’d ever experienced, but that wasn’t the point. ‘I shouldn’t have bloody said anything.’ She grabbed for the remote control. ‘Shall we watch a film?’
Eliza leaned forward to snatch the remote from her hand. ‘Nice try, but you’re not getting out of this. I want to know what’s been going on between you two.’ She didn’t sound cross, much to Beth’s relief, more concerned.
Libby on the other hand, was full of nothing but mischief. ‘Yes, tell us everything. How was it?’
‘It was okay.’ Beth helped herself to some pizza, stuffing it into her mouth before she could say anymore.
‘Okay?’ Libby snorted. ‘You don’t blurt it out and then blush the way you are over an okay kiss. Details, B, come on now. Let me live vicariously through you.’
Beth couldn’t help but laugh. The way Libby made things out to be, you’d think she’d never had a boyfriend. Sure, her choices might be limited by being in a small town, but things couldn’t be as bad as she kept making out. ‘It was nice.’ Heat rose in prickling spots across her chest and throat. ‘Very nice.’
Eliza shuddered. ‘That’s enough detail for me, thanks. When did this all happen?’
‘The first time was when he helped me fix the sink.’ She winced almost as soon as she said it, knowing she’d given the game away.
Eliza arched an eyebrow. ‘And the second?’
‘In the stock room,’ Beth mumbled. ‘When we had the mix up with the inflatable dolls.’
Libby choked on a mouthful of wine, and kept spluttering until Eliza thumped her on the back to help clear her airway. ‘Okay,’ she said, when she finally managed to speak. ‘I don’t care what Eliza says, now I definitely want details.’
They stayed up late; Beth’s anecdote about the dodgy sex toys had led onto Eliza telling them about a terrible Ann Summers party she’d been talked into attending by a member of her book group, and Martin’s horrified reaction when she’d shown him the catalogue afterwards. They’d laughed until their sides ached, their noise level increasing as the contents of the wine bottle disappeared.
Full of pizza, feeling slightly dizzy and with a combination of minty toothpaste and garlic confusing her taste buds, Beth crawled under the cover of the double bed in the spare room. Eliza was already snuggled in against the wall, and Libby looked cosy enough in a kind of nest she’d made on the floor using the mattress they’d dragged in from Beth’s old bed and a pile of quilts and pillows.
Stretching out, she clicked off the bedside light, leaving the room dark except for a sliver of moonlight peeping through a gap in the top of the curtains. She felt a hand brush against her side and slid her hand out to grasp Libby’s fingers.
‘I’m glad you’re home, B,’ she whispered sleepily.
‘Me too, Libs. I missed you both so much.’ A soft snore came back in reply.
Recalling the brief conversation with Eliza that morning, she stretched out her other hand to grasp her friend’s arm. ‘And now you might be moving even further away. What will we do without you?’
Eliza rolled towards her and shifted closer until her head rested on the edge of Beth’s pillow. ‘I don’t want to go,’ she murmured. ‘Is it awful of me to say that? It feels awful, like I’m being disloyal to Martin. His career is important, and I know I should be more supportive.’
The wine had softened her inhibitions, and it was on the tip of Beth’s tongue to tell Eliza exactly what she thought about Martin and his passive-aggressive bullshit, but she clamped her jaw tight until the urge passed. Whatever she thought about the situation, he was Eliza’s husband and she didn’t want to put a strain on their friendship.
Trying to feel her way towards the right thing to say, she settled eventually for, ‘You’ve put him and his work first for a long time. I remember how hard it was for you when you first moved up north.’
‘It’s silly. I’m being silly. It’s not like I’ve seen you every five minutes, but at least I knew you were only a train ride, or a couple of hours drive away. An eight-hour flight is something different all together.’
Beth squeezed her arm. ‘You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.’
Eliza’s sigh tickled the hair on her shoulder. ‘It’s not even certain he’s going to get it, so I might be worrying over nothing. It won’t be the end of the world, and it would be the ideal time for us to start a family as I won’t be working over there.’
The lack of enthusiasm in her voice set alarm bells ringing in Beth’s head. Planning a baby should be something joyful, a time for celebration and excitement. Eliza made it sound anything but. ‘The last time we talked about it, you weren’t ready to have children.’
Her friend rolled over onto her back, and Beth could sense her drawing away. ‘I’m not getting any younger. If we’re going to have kids, now’s as good a time as any.’
Bloody hell, she was too drunk, and nowhere near drunk enough to have this conversation right now. ‘There’s plenty of time, Eliza. No need to rush into any big decisions just yet.’
‘You’re right. There’s no need to worry yet, he hasn’t even got an interview.’ Eliza yawned. ‘I think the wine’s gone to my head, and got me talking nonsense. G’night, B.’
Feeling like she’d failed her friend, Beth gave her arm a final squeeze. ‘Night, darling. Sleep tight.’ From the way Eliza tossed and turned beside her, it seemed a fruitless wish—for both of them.
Chapter Twelve
‘Shoulda brought the spare key.’ Sam muttered to himself as he knocked on the back door of the emporium
for the third time to no answer. Having seen Eliza take a couple of bottles out of the pub fridge, he’d assumed they’d be a bit worse for wear that morning and decided to make them breakfast. Beth had left a spare key at the pub, for emergencies, and he’d briefly considered using it so he could set everything out properly, before worrying she might see it as a violation of trust.
He took a couple of steps back and looked up at the closed curtains over the windows of the flat above. Surprises always seemed great during the planning, but relied on other people to play their part—which was never guaranteed when they didn’t know they even had a part to play. Balancing the cardboard tray in his left hand, he fumbled in his pocket for his phone and scrolled through to find Beth’s number.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. ‘Ungh?’
‘Hey, Beth, you wanna come down and answer the door?’ A loud groan echoed in his ear, and he stifled a grin. ‘Beth, you okay?’
‘Beth’s dead. This is her ghost.’
Sam laughed. ‘Can ghosts open doors? I brought you guys breakfast.’
‘Ghosts don’t eat. I’m never eating, or drinking again.’ She whimpered. ‘You made me think about drinking, why did you do that? Do you hate me?’
‘No, I don’t hate you. I like you very much, that’s why I made you bacon sandwiches and a Mr Barnes’ Secret Hangover Cure shake.’
‘Chocolate?’ She sounded almost perky and Sam knew his instinct had been right.
‘Yes, chocolate for you, strawberry for Eliza, and caramel for Libs.’ There was no big secret to the milkshakes—the milk helped to hydrate and neutralise an acidic stomach, and the oats and a raw egg provided energy. He added their favourite flavouring to mask any bitterness from the soluble painkillers. The bacon in the sandwiches was grilled rather than fried because, contrary to popular opinion, greasy food was the worst thing going for a hangover.
‘What are you waiting for? Bring them up.’
Sam rested his head against the back door. ‘You need to unlock the door first.’
‘But I’m dead and a ghost so I can’t get up. Hold on…’ Sam listened to her as she woke up the others, smiling so hard it made his face ache. God, she was adorable when she was like this—funny, sleepy, with just a little dash of vulnerability.
The dull sound of footsteps on the stairs sounded from inside and he straightened up in time to catch the full force of Libby’s scowl as she yanked open the door. With her hair stuck up at all angles and the smudges of makeup under her eyes it was like being snarled at by an angry panda. Grabbing one of the tall plastic cups from the cardboard tray he thrust it at her. ‘Caramel.’
Libby snatched the drink and took a deep slurp from the straw. ‘God, that’s good. I love you.’ She sucked down another mouthful. ‘Not feed-me-amazing-things-then-kiss-my-face-off love you, I’ll leave that to Beth.’
‘Excuse me?’ He tried to ignore the heat rising on his face. What the hell had Beth been telling them?
The cheeky minx grinned at him, then clutched her head with a groan. ‘Damn, it’s hard to be smug when you’re full of Lambrini regrets.’ She pointed at the padded bag in his hand. ‘What’s that?’
‘Bacon sandwiches.’
‘Forget what I said before. I do feed-me-amazing-things-then-kiss-my-face-off love you.’ She grabbed his hand and Sam found himself being dragged up the stairs. Halfway up, Libby called out, ‘Beth, I’m stealing your boyfriend, all right?’
Beth shuffled out of the bedroom, tugging down the rumpled leg of her pyjama shorts. Her normally sleek hair straggled around her face which was so pale her dark eyes dominated her elfin features. ‘I don’t have a boyfriend, but if you’re referring to Sam, you can do what you want with him if you stop shouting.’ She held out her hand and Sam gave her the chocolate shake.
He’d never seen her grumpy before, and he had to admit he kind of liked it. ‘I’ll take these into the kitchen and plate up. Did you two break my sister?’
The bathroom door opened. ‘I’m alive…I think.’ Eliza pushed her wild curls off her forehead and frowned at him. ‘I’m not talking to you.’ She made to push past him, then stopped to grab the final milkshake from the holder. ‘Traitor.’ She stomped towards the kitchen.
Sam followed hot on her heels. ‘What? What the hell did I do?’
His sister spun around to raise a shaky finger in his face. ‘You kissed her!’ She hissed through her teeth. ‘She’s my best friend, Sam, and she’s been through a lot in the past few months. The last thing she needs is you fooling around with her. What were you thinking?’
Dodging the finger she was jabbing at his face, Sam crowded close to his sister. ‘Woah! Back up there a little, missy.’ He glanced over his shoulder to check they were alone, then lowered his voice. ‘I’m not fooling around with Beth. It was something and nothing, it happened on the spur of the moment and we’ve both agreed to forget about it. Get your facts straight before you start throwing accusations around.’ So why had she told them?
Clutching her head, Eliza slumped into the chair he’d hung his jacket on. ‘Shh. I’m sorry, all right? I’m just worried about you, that’s all.’
Sam abandoned his search for the plates and took the chair next to her. Looking past the pale face, the messy hair and smudged remains of her makeup, he could see the concern in her eyes. ‘Hey, kiddo, what’s got your knickers in a twist?’
‘Don’t tease me, this is serious.’ Her hand closed over his forearm. ‘I don’t want her getting hurt.’
‘No one’s getting hurt. We’re friends. Nothing more.’ He paused, then frowned. ‘Why aren’t you worried about me getting hurt?’
Eliza made a rude noise. ‘You’re my brother, and I love you, but you’re a bit of a player. When was the last time you were involved with any woman for more than a couple of dates?’ Without giving him a chance, she answered her own question. ‘I’ll tell you when—never. Beth’s not like that, she’s had one serious boyfriend and he broke her heart.’
Damn. Eliza might look all sweetness and light, but she knew how to strike a low blow. Sure, he’d played the field, but it had never been malicious on his part, he’d just never found someone he felt truly comfortable around. There were women who he was friends with, and women he dated, but he’d never found anyone who managed to meet both criteria. Until now. The realisation hit him like a tonne of bricks. Mouth dry, Sam cast a quick glance at his sister, relieved to see she was rubbing her hands over her face in an attempt to wake herself up.
He dropped a quick kiss on head, then pushed himself to his feet. ‘No one’s getting their heart broken, least of all Beth. I promise you.’
The warming bag had done its job in keeping the bacon at a palatable temperature, so Sam made himself busy slicing the fresh rolls he’d brought with him and layering them with crispy rashers of meat. While his fingers carried out the task almost by rote, his mind whirled. Before Beth had returned to the bay, he’d been restless and miserable, his relationship with his father under threat. Talking to her about everything had been easy, partly he supposed because she knew him so well already.
The attraction he felt for her was understandable. Sam had always had an affinity for leggy brunettes with eyes like melted chocolate; anyone looking at his previous girlfriends could have worked that out. Oh. Oh. He wanted to smack himself in the head for being so blind. He wasn’t attracted to Beth because she resembled the kind of woman he liked. She was the original. The one he’d imprinted upon that blustery night on the promenade.
Voices sounded in the hallway, and he turned his back to busy himself with breakfast as Libby and Beth wandered in to join his sister at the table. The three of them were busy alternating between bemoaning their hangovers and slurping their milkshakes and didn’t seem to notice his sudden silence.
They fell on the rolls like a pack of ravenous wolves the moment he placed them on the table. Sam braced his palms on the kitchen counter and took a deep breath. If he didn’t pull himself together, they’d realise somethin
g was wrong. He’d grilled enough bacon for his own roll so claimed the last chair and looked back and forth between them. Nice and casual, easy does it. ‘Just how much did you drink last night?’
It was Libby who answered. ‘Only three bottles, and one of those was Lambrini.’ She shook her head sadly, then clutched it with a whimper. ‘When did we become such lightweights?’
Stifling a smile, Sam patted her hand. ‘It’s your age, Libs.’ He stood up, crossed to the window and rolled up the blind. Shrieks greeted the bright steam of sunlight, and he shook his head. ‘You guys are kind of pathetic, you know that, right?’
Feeling a bit steadier, Sam decided to stick with his original plan. He grabbed the kettle, filled it and flipped it on. ‘Okay, I’ll give you ten more minutes to feel sorry for yourselves and then you need to get dressed because we’re going for a walk on the beach.’
A chorus of groans greeted him, then Beth muttered, ‘You’re not the boss of me.’
The little bite of sassiness was something new. She’d been a lot shier when she’d been a little girl. He liked this new side to her, it spoke of a growing confidence he wanted to encourage and nurture in her, and that meant giving her something to push back against. He turned to rest against the counter and folded his hands over his chest. ‘Do you, or do you not want to get that bedroom decorated this weekend?’
She scowled and mumbled something. He cupped a hand to his ear, knowing he was being an annoying ass, but it didn’t matter because she thought they were just friends and friends teased each other. ‘What was that?’
Beth raised her hand to her face, pretending to scratch the side of her nose whilst giving him the finger and he laughed, utterly charmed. ‘Nine minutes. Get dressed and I’ll make some tea.’ He dug inside the bag and produced four insulated mugs. ‘Eight and a half minutes.’
For all their grumbling, the fresh air seemed to do the trick and Beth and the others began to look better. He watched as the wind blew his sister’s unruly curls across her face for the third time in less than a minute and she dragged them free again before digging in her pockets. ‘Damn, I’m sure I had an elastic band somewhere.’
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