Sophie Pembroke - An A To Z Of Love

It didn’t bear thinking about. Only Becky Thrower could steal both Mia’s hometown and her best friend in one fell swoop.

‘So, Ditsy.’ Tony’s charming smile was in full evidence again. ‘You’ve lived here all your life, Becky tells me. Why don’t you tell me about how it used to be?’ Which was a sure fire way to set Ditsy talking for days.

Mia tuned out until the kitchen doors opened and Charlie came out, laden with several platters of food, which he proceeded to place in the centre of their table. Mia tried to catch his eye again, hoping now the others were distracted by food they might be able to slope off and discuss the situation in private – not just the Coliseum, but how he was coping with having his ex in town, and whether he’d put anything dangerous in her food.

But Becky had him cornered, making him describe each of the antipasti dishes he’d provided. Mia wondered if this was the food she was supposed to have been taste-testing later. Wondered if Charlie might now have better things to do with his Saturday night.

With the others gushing about the food, Ditsy leaned over to Mia and asked in a whisper, ‘Have you opened your damn letter yet? Only I had Heather Jenkins in the shop the moment you left, asking, and with Reverend Davies right behind her. And don’t think for a moment they’ll be the last.’

‘The letter from Mia’s father?’ Becky broke in, apparently paying more attention than they’d thought. Her voice oozed false sympathy. ‘I heard you talking about that. Poor you, Mia.’ She reached out and put a hand across Mia’s, and Mia almost expected the skin to sizzle. ‘It must be so hard. I assume he’s never been back to Aberarian since he left? I mean, how could he?’

Mia reached out to help herself to a chilli-stuffed olive. ‘No,’ she said, keeping a tight rein on her anger. ‘He’s not been home.’

Becky shook her head and turned to whisper to Tony in a perfectly audible manner. ‘It was such a scandal. The whole town spoke of nothing else for months, did they, Ditsy?’

Ditsy winced and stuffed her mouth with bread. Even Tony was looking slightly awkward.

‘Well, I’m sure Mia doesn’t want to rehash old history,’ he said in a cheerful tone. ‘These herrings are really rather good,’ he added, but Mia could tell Charlie wasn’t listening. He was focused entirely on Becky.

‘Oh, Mia doesn’t mind, do you Mia?’ Becky laughed. ‘After all, it’s been fourteen years now. And it’s certainly not anything she hasn’t heard before!’

‘Becky.’ Charlie’s voice was sharp as he broke in. ‘Stop it.’

Mia felt a warmth in her bones, watching Becky’s face turn hard just for a moment. Then she smiled again, the same, sweet, false smile Mia still sometimes had nightmares about. ‘Of course. Now, Charlie, why don’t we let these people get on with their day while you show me around the kitchen? I have missed this place so.’ She was already on her feet by the time she finished talking.

Charlie looked faintly horrified at the prospect, but he followed her all the same. Mia gave him a sympathetic look as he passed. It didn’t seem to help much.

* * * *

Becky pushed her way through the kitchen doors, auburn hair floating behind her, and Charlie followed in a trail of her familiar perfume, wondering why, every time he thought his life was settled, Becky Thrower showed up and mixed him up again. He was up to three times now, and starting to have the most horrible feeling this might be the time to break him.

The first time, he’d been young and stupid, and she’d been young and beautiful. They’d moved in together within three months, even though Charlie still didn’t know what she’d seen in him.

The second time, he’d thought it was over for good when she ran out after he proposed. She’d been staying with her mother for a fortnight when she’d shown up and declared they should get married, move to Aberarian and start a seafood restaurant together. And her enthusiasm, her energy, had bowled him over again.

And now, two years after she’d walked out on their dream life – leaving nothing but a note saying she just wasn’t ready – she was back again, wearing a classic grey suit and bright red high heels, looking every inch the professional woman come to talk business. Or stomp on his heart. It was hard to tell with Becky.

‘So,’ he said, letting the door swing shut behind him. ‘You remember the kitchen.’

Becky stood next the preparation space, much closer to the kitchen knives than he was really comfortable with, and leaned against his beautiful stainless steel counters. ‘Okay, let’s get straight to it. Where are the customers, Charlie?’

‘It’s halfway between lunch and dinner, Bex.’ Charlie was instantly annoyed with himself for using the nickname, but more irritated by her questions. ‘Not the most popular time for dining.’ Of course, it hadn’t been so late when she’d come in, but if Charlie was very lucky she wouldn’t remember that.

‘Perhaps. But your reservations book looks pretty empty too.’

‘You shouldn’t be looking at that.’ And why would you care? he wanted to ask. But mostly, he wanted her to leave him alone to figure out if he was angrier she’d left or that she’d returned. And what it was she wanted from him now.

‘Look.’ Becky leaned towards him, one hand open and reaching for him. ‘I’m honestly trying to help here. A casino would bring in a lot of business to this town. A lot of people looking for somewhere to take their wives out for a celebratory dinner after they beat the house. More tourists, more holiday-makers…’

‘Yeah. Give us more cottages turned into holiday homes left empty nine months of the year? How’s that going to help those of us who want to live here, and maybe take in a movie now and then?’

Becky slid her hand along the worktop, as if she were marking it as hers. ‘Well what do you suggest then? More locals who can’t afford to eat here? Who’ll go to the Tesco in Coed-y-Capel instead?’

Charlie yanked the fridge door open. He needed to cook something. ‘I’m not saying we don’t need tourists. I just think we need something for locals too. You can’t run roughshod over the community and expect any grand plans to work. You need to work with them.’

‘Of course we do,’ Becky said, placing a soothing hand on his arm. ‘Which is why I need your help. After all, you’ve rather become part of the community while I’ve been gone, haven’t you?’

Charlie shrugged. ‘Not really.’ He went to the pub every now and again with Joe, and hung out with Mia, but beyond that? He wasn’t even sure anyone else in town knew his full name. Aberarian was Becky’s hometown. She was supposed to be the restaurant’s link to the community. He was just the chef.

‘So you’ll help, won’t you?’ Becky said, ignoring him completely. ‘That’s wonderful. I know we need to talk about us too, and I want to, really. But let’s save us for later.’ She looked pointedly at the kitchen doors. Magda was hovering in the doorway, eavesdropping again. He wondered how long she’d been there. ‘When we’ve a little more privacy.’

Magda, he noticed, was still looking far too amused for her own good.

‘But Charlie,’ Becky said, reaching the doorway, a note of warning in her voice. ‘Don’t forget. I’m still a stakeholder here. And we still need to talk about your plans to increase profits.’

Suddenly it was too cold to be standing by the open fridge. Charlie slammed the door shut with a satisfying crash and turned to Magda. ‘They finished eating?’ She nodded. ‘Good. Let’s get rid of them, then shut up shop until this evening. I really need a drink.’

* * * *