The Little B & B at Cove End. Linda Mitchelmore

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      ‘When I’m ready,’ Bailey said. ‘And not before.’

      A frisson of unease rippled, cold, across Mae’s shoulders. Bailey took a step closer to Josh, squaring up to him. Josh was tall – just under six feet – but Bailey was taller by a good couple of inches. Thicker set too. He was easily the tallest boy in their year.

      ‘You just mind how you treat her, Maynard,’ Bailey said. ‘That’s all.’

      ‘Explain yourself,’ Josh said.

      He let go of Mae’s hand. Her right one. Surely he wasn’t going to throw a punch at Bailey here? There were two people in the queue in front of them – chattering away for England so Mae didn’t think they’d heard the threatening exchange. She glanced towards the counter where Meg Smythson was rapidly scanning the contents of a customer’s basket.

      ‘In case you need reminding,’ Bailey said, ‘you did the dirty on my sister, Xia. More than once from what I’ve heard.’

      ‘None of your business,’ Josh said. He turned to Mae. ‘Ignore him.’ He put an arm around Mae’s shoulder and swivelled her round to turn their backs to Bailey. He leaned in and whispered in her ear. ‘He’s just jealous.’

      Mae hadn’t told Josh she’d been out with Bailey a couple of times, but in this place she probably didn’t need to – everyone seemed to know about everyone else or who knew someone who did.

      ‘Jealousy is a totally useless trait,’ Bailey said, coming closer – so close Mae felt his warm breath on her neck.

      Mae turned around to face Bailey.

      ‘Back off, Bailey,’ she said. ‘Please. I’m sorry I didn’t answer your texts if that’s what’s troubling you. Okay?’

      This was getting uncomfortable now and they were no nearer the counter than they were when they came in. Meg Smythson was looking their way now, forehead furrowed with puzzle lines as though she was sensing trouble brewing in her shop.

      Bailey shrugged.

      ‘You heard her,’ Josh said, his voice low. ‘Back off before I make you back off.’

      Bailey stepped back a few paces.

      ‘Let’s just say, Mae, if you get any bother you know where to find me.’

      ‘Your knight in shining armour, Mae,’ Josh laughed, leaning closer to Mae.

      ‘Who I won’t need,’ she said, catching a whiff of Josh’s slightly alcoholic breath again.

      This was all turning into some sort of old-fashioned film scenario, with two men fighting over her – it was sort of flattering really in a strange way. She felt a bit princessy. And there he was – her dad back again in her mind because he’d always called her his little princess.

      Mae smoothed her hands down over the roses on the 1950s full-skirted dress, a lump in her throat … remembering.

      ‘But if you do, Mae,’ Bailey said, ‘the offer still stands.’

      Mae wondered what sort of terrible time Bailey’s sister might have had with Josh. Two-timing wasn’t the best way to go about things, but hadn’t she done it herself when she’d been sort of going out with Bailey and not told him she didn’t want to see him any more before starting to go out with Josh?

      ‘Ignore him,’ Josh whispered. ‘He’s not worth brain space.’

      Mae nodded – too full up to speak.

      It was their turn to be served.

      ‘Sorry about the wait,’ Meg Smython said.

      Josh placed the bottle of wine on the counter and Meg Smythson reached for it, and the scanner beeped loudly as she ran it through. The crisps followed.

      Josh reached for the wine, but Meg got there first, grabbing it firmly at the base and pulling it back towards her.

      ‘Buying wine for a minor is an offence,’ Meg said. ‘But I don’t need to tell you that, Josh, do I?’

      ‘I’m fairly conversant with the law on that matter, Mrs Smythson,’ Josh said.

      Conversant? Mae suppressed a giggle – Josh sounded so much older than his twenty years saying that. It made her giggle.

      ‘Something funny, Mae?’ Meg Smythson asked.

      ‘Not really,’ Mae said. She pulled a mock-glum face.

      ‘Well, lovie,’ Meg said. ‘I’ll say the same to you in case you didn’t hear the first time … buying wine for a minor is an offence. That is all. There are other people waiting to be served.’

      Mae looked behind her and saw that three other people had come in, one was stood behind Bailey and the other two were filling up baskets with goods.

      ‘In that case,’ Josh said, ‘I will part with the readies and we’ll get out of here. And just for the record, this wine is for my old man and my ma. For later. Okay with that, Mrs Smythson? Honest. On the Bible.’

      ‘You would say that!’ Mrs Smythson said, laughing now. She blushed.

      ‘I would. Oh, and that turquoise top you’re wearing really suits you, by the way, Mrs Smythson.’

      ‘Flatterer,’ Meg Smythson said, as Josh turned to go. Mae started to turn, but Meg Smythson reached out for her, and held onto her wrist – just for a second – before letting it go again. ‘You just watch it, Mae. I wouldn’t want my licence taken away. Get my drift? About the wine?’

      ‘Yes,’ Mae said.

      She turned to join Josh, who was already walking towards the door.

      As she passed Bailey he said, sotto voce, ‘He got my sister rat-arsed, which wasn’t pretty. Then he did the dirty on her. Just saying. Just so you know.’

      Mae couldn’t think of a single thing to say to that, so didn’t. She was so fed up of everyone telling her how to live her life. Fed up with being treated like a little kid, like she didn’t know anything, anything at all. God but she needed that drink now.

       Chapter Three

      The house was quiet now that both Mae and Rosie had gone and Cara was glad of something to do. She went into the hall, picked up the flyer for the art festival and rang the number.

      ‘Hello, Cara Howard here,’ she said quickly, the second it was answered. She felt nervous, stepping into the unknown as a landlady. Ought she not have rung on a Sunday and waited until the morning? Oh well, it was done now. She’d taken the first step towards her new venture – well, the second if you counted her handmade B&B sign – and there was no going back now. ‘I live at Cove End. I’m interested in offering accommodation to people coming to the art festival. Am I speaking to the right person?’ She knew her words were tumbling СКАЧАТЬ