Chapter 38
CHAPTER 38
Beau was loading cardboard boxes and stuffed bin liners into a rented van. He’d spent the previous evening packing up everything in his flat and now that he’d done the studio, he was ready to drive it all down to Hastings. He hadn’t even needed to give notice. There was such a long waiting list for spaces in the building, his had been taken the moment he’d told Sam he was leaving. It was the same with the room in the flat he’d shared for four years.
He felt like the Beau-shaped hole in the fabric of London had grown over before he’d even driven off.
That business with Flora and the posters had stripped the joy from his East London life and now that he’d been sacked from Giuliette, there wasn’t anything to keep him up in town, paying extortionate rent and working all hours to cover his bills. He could make his rings anywhere. Olive had already said he could work in a corner of her studio any time.
He loaded in the last bags, slammed the van door and set off, tuning the radio to a cheesy golden oldies station with the volume turned up high and all the windows open. Waiting at a red light, he saw a woman in the next car smiling at him and doing the sexy eyes thing. Then she rolled down her passenger-side window. Beau smiled back at her. She was hot. Older, but still hot.
Still looking at her, his elbow out of the window, t-shirt sleeve rolled up, bicep on display, he sang along to the track that was playing, gazing straight into her eyes, and watched her turn quite pink.
The lights changed and he turned left, honking his horn as he went, waving his right arm out of the window. One last big stranger flirt for old time’s sake. Was that sleazy?
He just wanted to make her day, to let her know she was still a sexually attractive woman to a young guy. He should have tossed a ring through her window and filmed it for Flora.
But although he was still confused about all that, he was committed to leaving that fast-love lifestyle behind in London. This move was a new start in every way. The shock of losing the Giuliette gig on top of everything else made it seem like time for a fundamental reset.
He still couldn’t understand why he’d been ditched so abruptly from that job. ‘Cost savings’ had been the reason Gwen had given him, after plying him with tea and a slice of one of her homemade cakes. There were some big new things happening and Juliet could no longer afford an additional member of staff, she’d said. That was plausible in such a fast-growing business, but when he’d asked if he could still help out in the workshop – as unpaid work experience – Gwen had said that was over too. So it seemed like Juliet just didn’t want him there.
What had he done? Was it something to do with Cassady? Had he accidentally said something inappropriate when he’d been looking after her? Used a rude word that she’d repeated at home? He really hoped not. He loved that kid. One of the worst parts of being thrown out of Giuliette was that he’d never see her again.
The unhappy ending to that all-too-brief interlude made him super glad he hadn’t told his mum or Tamar – or anyone – about working there. That had been one of those Matt things Beau had found useful over the years. Never tell anyone about a project until it’s absolutely in the bag had been his father’s rule and it was a good one. It was just a shame he hadn’t been so wise about other things.
Beau felt his mood slump, but then he saw he was coming up to the M25 exit signposted Hastings and immediately perked up. He was genuinely excited to be going back. He liked the quirky vibe of the place – and it had to be a good thing for him to spend more time with his mum. Didn’t it?
Sam had given him heaps about being a ‘loser kid, running back to mummy’, asking if she had his Arsenal duvet set ready on the bed for him and his net of teddies. Perhaps he was going to find it annoying to live with a parent again, but apart from his pressing need to leave town, it seemed like the right thing to do, considering what she was going through. What they both were.
It was all good, he told himself as he merged onto the A21, heading south towards the coast. And then, of course, there was Tamar—
‘No!’ he said out loud. He wasn’t going there. He’d made a promise to his mother and he was going to keep it.
Which made him think of something else. He hadn’t actually told Sophie he was moving down to live with her. He’d planned to surprise her and now he remembered how she hadn’t been thrilled the last time he’d pulled that trick – and that had only been for a visit.
He really did need to float the idea to her first, pretend they were discussing it. Although it was entirely settled in his head. He was moving to Hastings.
He pulled over at the next layby to ring an old college friend who lived in nearby Rye to ask if he could stay for a few days. With that secured, he sent a text to Sophie, saying he was ‘thinking of moving down’ and how did she feel about it?
Not that it made any difference. If he got any kind of vibe she didn’t want him there full time, he’d just shack up with Olive. He had a jewellery project to get on with that he didn’t want to have to explain to anyone and her studio was the perfect place to do it.