Sophie Pembroke - An A To Z Of Love

‘Ooh, look.’ Magda dropped from the table and into her best professional stance. ‘There might be some actual customers coming our way.’

It didn’t seem very likely, but Charlie looked up anyway, and promptly forgot all about bookings and restaurants and Magda and Mia’s mystery man. Because right there in his restaurant was a much, much bigger problem.

‘Hi, Charlie,’ Becky said, with just enough grace to look a little sheepish but apparently not enough to just stay the hell away from him after tearing his heart out and stomping on it twice already.

‘Becky.’ He glanced at her companion. ‘And Ditsy.’ Who really should have known better and managed to stop this before it reached his door. Ditsy gave him an apologetic smile.

Ditsy stepped into the ensuing silence, smile widening with what Charlie was pretty sure was fake brightness. ‘We’d like a table for two, for lunch, if that’s possible.’

Charlie shook his head and managed to find his voice. ‘Magda will be taking care of you today – one of the window tables perhaps, Magda?’

With a nod, Magda instantly flowed into her best customer service spiel, guiding Ditsy to a window table and almost managing to get Becky to follow by sheer dint of her politeness.

But at the last moment, Becky gave a little shake of the head, as if she were coming out of a daze, and took the three small steps necessary to bring her in front of Charlie.

‘Hi,’ she said. Then, when he didn’t respond, she answered the question he hadn’t asked. ‘I just wanted to see you. I came… I’ve some business in town. But I couldn’t not come and see you.’

‘You left without seeing me,’ Charlie pointed out, before his brain could censor his mouth. ‘Just a note on the counter was all I got.’

Her face crumpled a fraction under her powder and lipstick. ‘I know. And that was… It was unforgivable. I know that.’

Over at the table, Magda was watching them with concern in her wide hazel eyes. Ditsy’s face, Charlie noticed, showed only fascination. Was she enjoying this train wreck of a reunion?

‘What does it matter now?’ Charlie lowered his gaze from hers and stepped away, heading for the kitchen and solitude. ‘Enjoy your lunch.’

‘Charlie!’ She grabbed hold of his hand before he could escape. ‘Can we talk? After? Please?’

He shook his hand free and carried on beating his retreat, murmuring, ‘Sure’ and ‘Whatever,’ as he went. It was enough, it seemed, because Becky gave him one of those wide, wide smiles he remembered most from her bedroom before she turned and glided over to the window table.

‘Well that was a mistake,’ Magda muttered under her breath as she passed him, fetching drinks for their surprise customers.

‘I know,’ Charlie groaned and stepped into the kitchen, letting the door swing shut behind him.

Chapter Three

It would be much easier, Charlie mused while reorganising the main fridge for the third time, if he could just fall in love with Magda. Assuming she fell in love with him too, of course. Charlie rested his head on the cool metal of the fridge and wondered why there had been no portents in the sky that morning about just how bad this day was going to be.

Becky.

The woman who was supposed to be the love of his life. The very reason he was battling to stay in business in Aberarian. The reason he owned a house that could have fallen down by now, it had been so long since he’d visited it.

And now she wanted to talk . Fantastic.

He’d thought they’d said everything they could possibly need to, the night before she left. They’d talked about the job offer from Tony, about how she didn’t feel the same ‘home’ feeling she’d expected when they moved to Aberarian. She’d told him that maybe it wasn’t time for her to be there yet, whatever that meant.

Charlie had known what she was really saying, though. It wasn’t Aberarian that couldn’t live up to her expectations – it was him. He’d asked her to stay, to give them a real chance at the future they’d dreamt of together.

And when he’d woken up the next morning, she was gone.

Really, what else was there to say?

‘Are they still out there?’ he asked when Magda returned to the kitchen, plates in hand. In forty-five minutes, Becky and Ditsy had only managed starters and two bread baskets. Charlie was starting to worry it would be dinnertime before they finished lunch.

‘Still deciding on main courses,’ Magda confirmed. ‘And waiting on more drinks. She also wanted me to ask you, and I quote, “Why you’re not using the darling water jugs and glasses we sourced from that charming glassblower down the coast.”’

Charlie shut his eyes and pretended he couldn’t hear Becky saying those words in his head. She’d want to make it clear to Magda exactly who she was, of course, without having to come out and say it. She’d assume, rightly, he wouldn’t have told the young Polish girl about his humiliating abandonment, so all she needed to do was make it obvious she had been there first, that she had history with him. Just enough to warn Magda off, in case she was getting any ideas.

Except the only ideas Magda would be getting were about her crazy boss hiding in the kitchen and when to call in the mental health professionals.

‘What are they talking about, anyway?’ Charlie asked. ‘What can possibly be taking this long?’ He couldn’t ignore the niggling part of his brain that kept asking, if Becky wanted to talk with him so much, why was she spending hours chatting with Ditsy instead? She’d never seemed to have much time for long conversations with her aunt before.

Maybe she’d changed. Maybe she wanted to come home now, and live the future she’d always dreamt of.

Charlie wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that.

‘Well, you know I don’t like to eavesdrop on the customers,’ Magda lied, ‘but I did happen to overhear…’

Charlie decided this wasn’t the occasion for a lecture on professional ethics. He needed to know why Becky was back, before she blindsided him. ‘What?’

‘She’s here on business. Apparently her company has got some plan for something in Aberarian, and she’s heading up the project with her boss.’ Magda paused, seeming uncertain about whether to add the next bit. ‘From what she said to Ditsy, it sounds like she’s planning on hanging around.’

Charlie banged his head on the fridge door as he stood up. ‘Why on earth would she… Wait. So she’s not here to…’

‘To win you back? Not so far as I can tell,’ Magda said, smirking.

‘I was going to say, “make my life a misery,”’ Charlie lied. Work. She’d come back here for work. Of course she had.

‘Oh, well. I wouldn’t rule it out.’

Charlie checked his watch. Two o’clock. Still prime late-lunch time. No escape just yet.

‘I need to talk to Mia,’ he said. Mia would make sense of it all for him. She always did. Even if she and Becky didn’t have the best history, Mia would listen and talk it through and understand.

That, Charlie decided, was why he and Mia were so good as friends. She never drove him crazy the way girlfriends always had.

‘And I need to get their drinks.’ Magda moved towards the doors out to the bar. ‘Are you going to sneak out the back like a little girl, or are you going to face up to the woman like a man?’

Charlie thought about it. ‘What are my chances, do you think?’

‘She’ll hunt you down, my friend. I’ve seen that sort of look in a woman’s eyes before. You’d be better off getting it over and done with.’

‘You’re right,’ Charlie said with a sigh. Then he considered. ‘But I’ll just wait until they’ve finished their meals. And post-lunch liqueurs.’ Becky was always more pliant and considerate after alcohol.