“Okay. How come only one of the tanks has any fish in it?”
“The dangerous species will go in that tank, but we haven’t received the licence for them yet. We didn’t want to wait any longer—there have been enough delays already.”
“Is that Sid?” I pointed to the scuba diver in the tank that had no fish in it.
“It is. Sorry, Jill, I have to go and introduce Finn.”
“Okay. Good luck, Betty.”
Moments after Mrs V and I had taken our seats, Betty appeared on the small makeshift stage, accompanied by a short, stout man.
“Look at his jumper.” Mrs V nudged me.
“It’s horrible.”
“I think it’s nice.” She took out her phone and snapped a photo.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” Betty spoke into the mic. “Thank you for coming here today. Without further ado, it’s my great pleasure to welcome Finn Waters.”
“Thank you, Betty.” He took the mic. from her. “It is a great honour to be asked here to open The Sea’s The Limit. I’m pleased to confirm that the giftshop will be stocking my range of marine-themed jumpers and cardigans.” He pointed to his own jumper. “They’re available in all sizes, including children’s.”
“He’s just here to flog his horrible knitwear,” I whispered to Mrs V.
But I was wrong. He was there to bore us all to death for the next forty-five minutes, with talk of crustaceans and fish. By the time he’d finished, I was practically asleep.
“And so.” He picked up a magnum of champagne. “It gives me great pleasure to declare The Sea’s The Limit open.” He smashed the bottle on the tank closest to him.
And then it happened. At first, it was just a tiny crack in the glass, but that quickly spread. I glanced at Betty and could tell by the look of horror on her face that all was not well.
“Quick, Mrs V.” I grabbed her by the arm.
“What’s wrong?”
“Hurry up. We have to get out of here.”
We’d just reached the exit when I heard what sounded like a small explosion behind us.
“Jill, I really shouldn’t be running like this.”
“You have to.” I managed to drag her across the road and into EAWM. “Quick. Upstairs.”
“By the time we reached the top of the stairs, poor old Mrs V was gasping for air. “What was that all about?” She slumped onto one of the sun loungers on the roof terrace.
“Look!” I pointed to the road.
“Oh dear. That’s dreadful.”
Below us, a torrent of water was cascading down the street. Moments later, dozens of disgruntled people appeared—they were all soaked to the skin. In the middle of them was Betty who was trying her best to placate the angry crowd.
“What happened?” Mrs V had just about recovered.
“The tank broke when he hit it with the bottle.”
“Surely, that shouldn’t have happened?”
“It definitely shouldn’t have happened, but I do recall that Betty said they’d managed to get those tanks much cheaper than she’d expected.”
“It’s like I always say, Jill. You get what you pay for.”
Once the water had subsided, I walked Mrs V back to the office.
“Aren’t you coming in, Jill?”
“I’m going to call it a day. It’s my hen night tomorrow, so I want to conserve my energy for that. I thought I’d give myself the rest of the day off.”
“Okay, dear. Don’t drink too much tomorrow night.”
“Don’t worry. I have no intention of doing. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to join us?”
“Goodness, no.” She laughed. “My hen night days are well and truly behind me.”
“Okay, See you on Monday, then.”
***
I’d gone cold turkey for far too long. If I didn’t have a blueberry muffin soon, I’d get the screaming abdabs, so before heading home, I magicked myself to my favourite muffin emporium (and coincidentally, the only one that gave me a discount).
“Jill, you’ve timed it just right,” Amber said.
“Isn’t it supposed to be your day off?”
“It is, but I couldn’t miss the launch of our new self-order machines.”
“They’ve just finished commissioning them.” Pearl joined her sister behind the counter. “I gave Amber a call because I knew she’d want to be here to see them in action.”
“Where’s your Lil, Amber?”
“I dropped her off at Mum’s.”
“You’ll wear poor old Aunt Lucy out.”
“I’ll only be here an hour or so, and besides Mum loves it. It’s not like my Lil is any trouble.”
If Pearl picked up on the subtle dig, she didn’t react. She was much too enthralled with the machines. “You can be the first person to place an order with them, Jill.”
“I just popped in for a blueberry muffin and a caramel latte.”
“I know. Go and place your order on the machine.”
“But I’ve just told you what I want.”
“Come on, Jill. It’ll be fun.”
“Won’t it just.” I walked over to the machine closest to me. I was already familiar with the format, having used them in Burger Bay. I selected the muffin first, and then the drink. “Right, I’ve done it.”
“You have to pay before the order comes through to us.”
“Where’s the slot for the card?”
Amber laughed. “There isn’t one.”
“Why not?” And then I remembered that there were no credit or debit cards in Candlefield.
“You have to pay with cash,” Pearl shouted.
“Okay.” I slipped some coins into the slot. “There. Done it.”
Amber and Pearl were both staring at the small terminal behind the counter.
“Is anything happening?” I shouted.
“Not yet.”
“It’s very slow, isn’t it?”
“Have some patience—here it comes now!” Amber shrieked.
“Let me!” Pearl tore off the slip before Amber could get to it.
“Didn’t we tell you that these machines would be brilliant?” Amber said.
I didn’t reply. I was too busy looking at the expression on Pearl’s face. “What’s up, Pearl?”
“Did you order a burger?”
“Of course I didn’t. You don’t sell them.”
“What about a strawberry milkshake?”
“I ordered a muffin and a latte. Why?”
“What’s wrong?” Amber snatched the slip from her sister. “This can’t be right.”
I walked over to the counter and took the slip from Amber.
“Oh dear. Have you seen the tiny print at the bottom? It says, Burger Bay.”
“What?” Pearl grabbed the slip from my hand.
“I told you that Burger Bay had just had some new machines installed. It looks like someone has sold you their old ones.”
“But they said they’d be reconditioned and re-programmed specifically for our shop.”
“It seems like the only changes they’ve made are the images on screen. I’m sorry to say this, girls, but I think you’ve been conned.”
Chapter 12
It was Saturday—the day of my hen night. Yippee!
I’d never been a fan of hen nights—they were just so juvenile. What could be more embarrassing than a bunch of grown women, parading around town, wearing silly costumes and hats? Well, not mine. I’d made it quite clear to Kathy and the twins that I was having none of that. If I had to have a hen night, then mine would be a classy affair.
What do you mean, famous last words?
Jack was much more enthusiastic about his stag night. His best man, Alby, had been organising it for weeks, apparently. Fortunately, they were going to West Chipping, so we wouldn’t have to worry about the two groups bumping into one another.
“Please tell me that you aren’t going to walk around West Chipping wearing those things?” I said.
Jack and Alby were sporting brand new bowling shirts with the words ‘Team Groom’ printed on the back.
“What’s wrong with them?” Alby looked affronted. “I designed them myself.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“I wasn’t sure about them at first,” Jack said. “But they’ve grown on me.”
“Just as well.” Alby picked up a cardboard box from under the kitchen table. “I’ve had a load of them printed.”
“How many people are going on your do?” I said.
“I’m not sure.” Jack shrugged.
“Twenty-six,” Alby said. “Twenty-seven if Tommo makes it. He had to have an in-grown toenail removed yesterday, so it’ll be touch and go. How many are going on your hen night, Jill?”
“Not many. It’s going to be a small, but classy affair.”