Emma bounced into the bookshop the following lunchtime, closely followed by Tash going at a more sedate pace. ‘Amy! Me and Tash are going for coffee and cake to celebrate some great news. Wanna come?’
Amy was still feeling sluggish after the book signing. She hesitated. ‘I’ve got a lot to do. I’m not sure I can spare the time.’
Patrick, in early for once, intervened. ‘Sure, Amy there’s no one about at the moment, I’ll keep an eye on the shop for an hour.’ He winked. ‘If I get trampled in the rush, I’ll come and get you. Go on,’ he added, as he gave her a little push. ‘Go and have lunch with your friends. You deserve a break.’
She looked at him gratefully. After they’d finished eating last night, he’d given her a lift home. She hadn’t even known he had a car. It underlined how little she knew about him. By this point she was so exhausted she’d nearly missed the exquisite nearness of him driving her in the dark. Once parked up outside her flat, he’d come round to the passenger side and opened her door. He led her to the front door of the flats, one arm around her and waited until she unlocked.
‘Got to give Whiz a lift to her hotel,’ he had whispered, his breath misting in the cool night air. The pressure of his arm around her waist had increased for a fraction of a second and she’d thought he might have kissed the top of her head but it was all so swift she couldn’t be certain. She’d climbed the stairs to her flat with heavy legs but with a heart bursting with love for him.
‘Go on with you,’ he urged now, snapping her back to the present.
She followed Emma and Tash into Millie Vanilla’s and they bagged the best table in the window, just as a couple were leaving.
‘Wonder if they’ll go into the bookshop?’ Amy bit her lip as she watched anxiously.
‘Relax babe,’ Emma said. ‘If they do Patrick will cope. He could charm the birds from the trees that one, as Biddy likes to say.’
Millie arrived and took their order. She was wearing a turquoise apron with a pretty pattern of pink flamingos and she looked radiant. ‘So, curried parsnip soup all round and I’ll let you know what cakes we’ve got later, if you’ve got room for pudding.’
‘If we’ve got room for pudding?’ protested Emma, stoutly. ‘As if we wouldn’t have!’
Millie chuckled. ‘Sorry Emma, my lovely. Forgot who I was talking to. Food will be with you in a jiffy.’
Once she’d returned to the kitchen, Emma leaned forward and whispered, ‘When do you think she’s going to tell people she’s pregnant?’
‘Millie’s pregnant?!’ Amy said more loudly than she meant.
‘Sssh!’ Emma put her finger to her lips. ‘She told me a couple of weeks ago but swore me to secrecy.’
‘Then perhaps you shouldn’t have mentioned it in the first place,’ Tash reproved. ‘Oh hello Trevor,’ she cooed, as Millie’s cockapoo padded over for some fuss.
‘See?’ Emma rolled her eyes. ‘All stern with me but if there’s a dog about, she goes to mush.’
Amy laughed. It was hard to read Tash sometimes. She came across as completely self-reliant, even a little hard but Amy was learning she could be kind too.
‘Great do last night, Amy,’ Tash said. ‘What a great turn out and brilliantly well-organized. It was fab.’
‘Thank you. And thank you for saying so in front of my mother. I often suspect she thinks I’m incapable of doing anything.’
There was an interruption while Millie served their coffee. Amy caught Emma studying Millie’s tummy and couldn’t help but giggle.
‘Ah mothers,’ Tash said, sipping her espresso. ‘Mine thinks I’m not responsible enough to look after her precious Westie.’
‘And mine rejects every ironed shirt I do,’ Emma added, mournfully. ‘Just not up to her impeccable standards.’
‘But they love us really,’ Tash said. ‘Let’s raise our coffees to our sainted mothers!’
Amy obliged but was certain nothing she did would be good enough for her mother. Sometimes she wondered if Katrina even loved her. ‘So, you’re celebrating,’ she said, when they’d put their cups down. ‘What’s the occasion?’
Tash looked triumphant. ‘We have finally, finally after many false starts and hiccoughs along the way, completed on Biddy’s purchase of the Morrisons’ bungalow. Hallelujah to all the gods of estate agents.’
‘Oh that’s great. Biddy will be pleased. When are they moving in?’
‘Not for a while,’ Emma put in. ‘She and Arthur want to do some work on it first. Then they want us to sell their two houses.’
‘Of course. They’ve not long been married, have they? I suppose Arthur has his own place.’
Emma nodded. ‘Biddy promised me if I got them the bungalow, then she wanted us to sell their houses.’
‘She wants you to sell the houses,’ Tash added. She grinned. ‘Way to go, Em. You’ve done a fantastic job.’
Emma preened a little. Natch. ‘Oh and the sale of the Greys’ completely gorg cottage to Millie and Jed is well on its way too. Should complete by the end of this month. But the best news, the absolute best news, is that Dad’s job is safe.’
‘Oh Emma, that’s brilliant!’ Amy exclaimed. ‘You’ve been so worried about it.’
‘Whole family has.’
‘What’s happened?’
‘Factory’s got a new and long term contract to make old-fashioned carpet sweepers.’
Amy did a double-take. ‘To make what?’
‘You know, the push and go sort. No power except your own elbow.’
‘No disrespect to your Dad but who on earth would want to buy a carpet sweeper?’ Amy asked, mystified.
Emma roared. ‘Oh Amy, your face! Had the exact same thought, though. Apparently they’re the latest must-have retro accessory for hipsters. Along with milk in real glass bottles and record players playing actual vinyl.’
Amy shrugged. ‘Well, if it means your Dad has a secure job, I’m all for it. Here’s to the humble carpet sweeper.’ She looked so perplexed, Emma and Tash laughed.
‘’Course, it also means me and Ollie can move into Millie’s flat above the caff,’ Emma said then added, dreamily, ‘Can’t friggin’ wait!’
‘I’m really pleased for you Emma,’ Amy said and sniffed appreciatively as their soup arrived.
Silence reigned while they paid due homage to Millie’s delicious homemade curried parsnip but, once their bowls were empty, Emma slung her spoon down and grinned. ‘I love this place. I cannot wait to live upstairs.’
‘It’s a dream come true for you,’ Tash teased. ‘Food at your beck and call all day long. You’ll never have to cook. You can live on chocolate fudge cake and lemon drizzle.’
‘Suits me.’ Emma said, practically salivating.
‘It wouldn’t suit me,’ Amy sighed. ‘I only have to look at a piece of cake and I put on a stone,’ she added, gloomily.
‘Gotta admit, I must have a fast metabolism,’ Emma said.
‘You must have, to process all the crap you eat,’ Tash said acidly. She turned to Amy and pulled a face. ‘Cheese and onion crisp sandwich for breakfast this morning. I mean, cheese and onion at nine in the morning!’
‘And it was yummy-delish,’ Emma said.
‘I’m like you, Amy,’ Tash put in. ‘I have to watch what I eat like a hawk or I put on weight. I was really overweight a few years ago, lost it and have lived in fear of putting it all back on ever since.’
This was a revelation to Amy; Tash always looked slender in the tight little suits she wore and Amy said as much.
Tash laughed. ‘Nope. There’s only one place the stodge ends and that’s right on my hips. Emma doesn’t know how lucky she is. For the rest of us it’s a real struggle.’
‘So, how do you keep the weight off?’ Amy asked.
‘She indulges in marathon bouts of sex with the love-god that is Kit,’ Emma sniggered.
‘I do apologise for my colleague, Amy. Sometimes I wonder if she’s graduated from nursery.’
Amy laughed ruefully. ‘Well, even if it’s true,’ she said, blushing a little as an image of her and Patrick indulging in their very own marathon sex session burst into her brain. ‘Not much chance of that sort of exercise for me. Very single at the moment.’
‘Or,’ Emma piped up. ‘A more positive way of saying it would be fun, free, single and ready to mingle.’
‘What did I say?’ Tash muttered, rolling her eyes. ‘Never left the nursery.’
‘Ooh, I know what would do it,’ Emma squealed, making the couple in walking boots, who had just come in, stare. ‘The Slime Run!’
‘Oh no,’ Amy said, firmly. ‘I couldn’t manage the Fun Run in August so I’m not even going to consider the Slime Run.’
‘Actually, I had trouble with the Fun Run too,’ Tash said. ‘Wasn’t nearly fit enough for it.’
Amy looked at her, amazed. ‘I thought you looked incredibly fit.’
‘Nope. Really struggled and didn’t even complete it.’
‘Yeah, but the Slime Run is different,’ Emma insisted. ‘Goes from the Regent Theatre at one end of the prom to the tip of the harbour. It’s a mile tops and all on the flat.’
‘Where does the slime come into it?’ Amy asked. ‘I assume it’s something to do with Hallowe’en?’
‘Yup. The Sea Cadets run it as a fundraiser. They get dressed up in Hallowe’en costumes and jump out at you at various points along the way and throw gunge all over you. You get sponsored for taking part.’
Tash shuddered fastidiously. ‘Sounds tremendous,’ she said, in a tart voice and, lifting her pink rose-patterned cup, finished her coffee.
‘No, it’s great fun, honest.’
‘Do you think I’d need to train for it though?’ Amy asked.
‘Well it never hurts. A bit of training would make running a mile a lot easier. I’ll call for you tomorrow night, how does that sound? And, as I always say—’
‘What?’ Amy asked as Tash grinned; she’d heard it all before.
‘The more you run, the more of the goodly cake product you can eat.’
Millie, as if knowing her cue, came to clear their table. ‘Now, can I tempt you, ladies? Lemon drizzle, Bakewell Tart, apple cake – or a taster slice each, of all three? It’s something new I’m trying as people can never seem to make up their mind what to have. Comes with clotted cream, of course.’
The women looked at one another. As one, they chorused, ‘Taster slices!’ and then burst out laughing.