The Cafe by the Sea

“Ha! No.”

The idea of Joel walking through the door in his handmade suit and leather shoes was completely mad. She couldn’t even imagine it; it would be like two worlds colliding, then instantly vaporizing in a cloud of dust.

“Is the Rock not finished?” she asked.

Fintan frowned.

“No. It’s been a disgrace. He’s used no local workers at all, everything flown in. It’s going to be an eyesore.”

The Rock was the fabled Colton Rogers hotel that was meant to be bringing investment to the island and providing jobs, and so far had done neither of those things.

“But he’s still building it? He says it’s nearly finished.”

“Well, it’s been finished without us.”

Fintan looked at her.

“Are you defending a baddie, Flora?”

“You don’t know much about the law,” said Flora.

Fintan tutted.

“Right, sorry, I forgot you London types know everything. Fuds.”

“Excuse me?”

Fintan shrugged.

“I said we need more suds. Soap powder.”

“FINTAN!”

And their temporary truce was broken.





Chapter Nineteen


At least it was a day that showed Mure at its very best. Clouds raced across the sky as if in a sped-up film, and the wind blew fresh, but if you could find a calm corner, the sun popped in and out every two minutes so you could enjoy the changing light on the water and the streaks of gold across the hills. It was absolutely lovely, and still early enough in the season that they weren’t overrun by Lycra-clad climbers, or concerned naturalists, or lost tourists.

Flora had put on one of her work suits, and the boys had teased and laughed at her. Sure enough, within ten seconds her tights were totally spattered with mud. She frowned.

“This place is ridiculous.”

“Dress properly,” said Fintan, who was wearing trousers that appeared to be tied with string.

Flora looked at him.

“It’s the middle of the day. Shouldn’t you be at work?”

He sighed and sagged a little.

“Yeah, yeah, all right.”

He headed off.

“AND STOP SAYING ‘FUDS’!” Flora yelled after him, but he didn’t turn around.




Flora had noticed, once she’d done her hair in her old mirror—she’d tried to plug in her straightener but had blown all the fuses and had lots of people shouting at her—that her skin, normally a little sallow from late nights and long days under fluorescent lighting, was looking pink and healthy; she had some color in her cheeks where she was normally so pale. She added the mascara she used religiously—otherwise her eyelashes had no color in them at all—and rubbed some lip gloss on, her heart beating anxiously. Kai had called earlier that morning.

“The big man’s flying in!”

“I know!”

“The two of you. By yourselves.”

“Shut up.”

Flora was already quite nervous enough. Kai paused and lowered his voice.

“Look,” he said, even though he knew it was completely futile. “Don’t lose your head, okay? He’s still your boss. He’s not allowed to sleep with you. And if he did, it would only be because he was waiting for room service or something, okay?”

“Kai!”

“What? Come on, I’m just saying. He only dates really really hungry-looking women with spiky heels and yellow hair. They could all be the same woman, except he gets older and they stay twenty-two. I’m just saying, because you’re away together . . . don’t do anything daft you’ll hate yourself for. And if Human Resources get to hear about it . . . I mean, you know what pricks they are.”

“That’s because you slept with two people in HR.”

“And they were pricks about it!”

Flora sighed.

“Maybe,” she said. “Maybe that would be okay, and if we had a one-night stand I’d get him out of my system and that would be fine.”

“Flors! How is that you? You don’t do one-night stands! You don’t do anything spontaneously! You’ve been considering dyeing your hair since I knew you. And I’ve known you for three years! Just dye your hair!”

“It could work!”

“The silver, probably not. Some marine blue, maybe . . .”

“No, I mean me and Joel.”

“Listen to yourself!”

“What’s stupid about it? I really fancy him, we sleep together, then I never think about it again.”

“That’s not you.”

“Well, maybe you’re very wrong about me.”

Kai paused, then sighed.

“Yeah. Maybe. How’s everything else? Still awful?”

Flora was about to agree vociferously. Then she glanced up.

“Actually,” she said, looking out of the window as the sun caught on the fells. Bramble had limped over to the sunniest patch on the floor and was following it around the room.

She smiled.

“Ah, you know. What’s it like down there?”

“Scorching. Everything smells of barbecues and garbage.”

“That sounds great,” said Flora, glancing around. There was a windsurfer in the harbor, whipping across the waves, bouncing up and down, racing with the wind.

“Also,” said Kai triumphantly, “how would you buy condoms? If Mure is as teeny-tiny as they say, it’d be all round the village in five seconds.”

“I think Joel probably carries them,” said Flora, feeling herself blush bright pink at the very idea.

Kai sighed.

“He probably does too. He probably gets a massive discount for bulk-buying them. To hold in all his skanky diseases!”

They both laughed.

“Honestly, nothing is going to happen,” said Flora. “He has no idea who I am. He’ll probably only stay half a day. And now I have to go and fetch him.”

“Good,” said Kai. “Good. Flora, I know we joke about it, but . . . it’s not just that he’s your boss. He’s a wonderful lawyer. But I think he’s cruel. I’ve seen him with clients. And you don’t deserve that.”

But Flora was temporarily lost in a vision of his cruel lips crushed up against hers, and could only nod as she hung up.




She’d set off from the farm when she saw the little prop plane begin its descent, knowing that that would take exactly the right amount of time. It was making a bumpy landing as she jolted over the potholes on the old road. She imagined him walking off the plane, stopping short, realizing he’d never really noticed the admin girl in the acquisitions department before, coming to a whole new conclusion about her as the scales fell from his eyes . . .

“Right, there you are.”

He was staring at his phone rather than her, trying to connect to something.

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