Chapter 34
JACK
I completely underestimated just how busy and popular the small-town festival would be. By lunchtime, I’d already had to call in Toby, our second chef, from his day off to fire up the stoves in the kitchen and prepare more food.
‘I thought you said we’d have enough,’ I reminded Kevin during a brief lull.
‘We should have had,’ he replied, wiping his forehead with the crook of his arm, looking as hot and bothered as I felt.
Hot pans sizzled, adding to the heat. ‘I was going off the numbers we did last year. This year is already so much busier. I’ve never seen this many people in town at one time before. ’
‘It’s great,’ Hannah said, pausing from buttering the rolls. ‘If every day was as busy as this, I’d almost be tempted to stay.’
Fiona looked up at me from where she was demonstrating how to shuck oysters to a small crowd. Her brow was furrowed questioningly.
‘I’ll tell you later,’ I said.
‘Just please tell me that I’m not going to be out of a job,’ she asked quietly. ‘There’s not a lot of options in this town for a single mom, especially ones that will let me bring my son to work when I have to, like you do.’
‘It’s going to be fine,’ I reassured her. ‘Your job is safe.’
She smiled gratefully, her relief written all over her face, and I told myself I’d do whatever I had to do to keep that promise.
‘Would you guys mind holding down the fort for a little while?’ I asked, untying my apron and lifting it off over my head. ‘I just need to check in on someone.’
‘I think we can cope,’ Fiona replied.
I fixed a couple of lobster rolls into paper boats and stepped out from the stall, wandering slowly down the street, past an art stall where a bunch of kids were painting old buoys, an impromptu driftwood sculpture garden.
A man was drawing live caricature sketches, and I stopped to watch him for a moment.
Kids nearby were drawing chalk art on the pavement.
Down at the jetty near the wharf they were holding paper boat races.
On the other side of the village green I could see a painting class taking place, easels set up to face the lighthouse at the tip of the bay.
The atmosphere was joyous and buzzing, and I felt a sense of belonging.
Taylor was just finishing up a tattoo when I got to her stall.
‘There you go, Dawn,’ she said, straightening up and snapping off her gloves. ‘All done.’
The woman, Dawn, sat up and twisted sideways so she could see her shoulder in the long mirror beside the tattoo table. Freshly inked on her skin was a tiny beach scene. A campervan, campfire, some ocean waves, and a couple of surfboards.
‘I love it,’ she squealed. ‘You’re so talented, Taylor.’
Taylor smiled modestly. ‘Thanks.’
‘My first tattoo,’ Dawn said. ‘And it’s even more special because it was done by you. I’m so glad you’re back.’
‘Temporarily,’ Taylor reminded her, and my good mood evaporated.
‘Yeah, well, temporary or not, it’s just nice to have you back, for however long it’s for. Let’s have dinner one night before you go.’
‘Sounds good.’ She looked up and saw me. I quickly pasted on a smile again.
‘Hey you,’ she said. ‘How’s the food stall going?’
‘Busy,’ I told her. ‘Insanely so. How’s the tattoo business?’
‘I haven’t stopped,’ she said. ‘It’s been crazy. You wouldn’t believe the people who have decided today is the day they get their first tattoo.’
‘Like me,’ Dawn said, then thrust out a hand. ‘Hi, I’m Dawn.’
‘Jack,’ I said, shaking it.
‘You look kind of familiar.’
‘He’s managing The Cozy Catch,’ Taylor told her.
‘Oh, yes. I’ve heard about you.’
I arched my eyebrows at Taylor. ‘All good things, I hope.’
‘Don’t look at me,’ Taylor said, holding her hands up. ‘I haven’t told her anything.’
Dawn looked back and forwards between us. ‘Is there something to tell?’
‘No,’ we both chorused at the same time, which of course only made us sound guilty, like we were, in fact, hiding something. Taylor blushed.
Dawn grinned, backing out of the tent. ‘Call me later,’ she said to Taylor. ‘I want to hear all about this “nothing” you speak of.’
‘Great,’ Taylor said after Dawn had left. ‘That’s going to be all around town in about five minutes.’
‘What is? She doesn’t know anything.’
‘I love Dawn, but what she doesn’t know, she’ll make up.’ She eyed the paper boats in my hands. ‘Is one of those for me?’
‘These? No. Both mine. Why, are you hungry?’
Her face fell.
‘Just kidding.’ I held one out. ‘I thought you might have worked up an appetite.’
‘Thanks,’ she sighed happily, taking it from me and inhaling its scent with her eyes closed. ‘Ohhh, that smells so good.’ She took a bite and chewed, her face contorting in ecstasy.
‘What is that divine taste?’ she asked.
‘Lobster?’
‘No.’
‘Freshly baked bun?’
‘No, that’s not it either.’
I looked at the one in my hand. ‘Oh, I know what it is, it’s the seaweed aioli.’
‘That is so good.’
‘I know. Toby makes it himself, with seaweed from right here in the bay.’
‘Toby is a genius.’
‘Don’t tell him that; he’ll want a raise.’
‘Here.’ She pushed out the other chair with her foot. ‘Have a seat.’
We ate our rolls in silence, enjoying the food too much to ruin it by making conversation. While we ate, we watched the festival carry on around us. A man on stilts tipped his hat at us as he strode past, kids chasing after him.
‘That,’ Taylor declared, licking butter and aioli off her fingers, ‘was delicious.’
‘You can’t get them like that back in New York, can you,’ I teased. At least, I meant it to come out as teasing, but in reality, I sounded sad. Wistful. She gave me a strange look.
‘Probably not,’ she said.
‘Where’s Ray?’
‘Over by the stage. He can see a lot of the live acts and parades over there. I got him a good seat in the shade.’
‘Cool. Well.’ I stood up, screwing up the paper boat in my fist. ‘Guess I better get back to it.’
‘Yeah, me too. I’m sure someone will be along shortly.’ Her smile turned wicked. ‘Unless…’
‘Unless what?’
‘Unless you want to be my next client.’
‘I have thought about it,’ I admitted.
‘Whoa,’ she said, eyes wide. ‘I was only kidding. Are you serious?’
‘Why do you sound so surprised?’
‘Because I am surprised.’
‘Why?’
‘You just don’t seem like the kind of guy who wants a lobster tattoo.’
‘Who said I’d get a lobster?’
‘OK, a wave then.’
‘I don’t want a wave.’
‘So what do you want?’
‘That,’ I said, winking, ‘is for me to know, and you to find out.’
‘You don’t have a clue, do you?’
‘Not yet,’ I admitted. ‘But it’ll come to me.’
‘You shouldn’t get a tattoo just for the sake of getting a tattoo.’
‘Have you said that to anyone else you’ve worked on today? Doesn’t sound like advice that would be good for business.’
‘I don’t care about business. I always make sure people understand what they’re getting into.’
‘Admirable.’
‘I’m just saying,’ she said, ‘it’s a permanent thing. You need to be sure about it. It should have some kind of meaning to you. Some significance.’
‘Maybe the significance lies more in who would be doing the tattooing,’ I said quietly. ‘Rather than in the tattoo itself.’
She stared at me with her beautiful brown eyes, and inside my chest my heart sped up.