Chapter Six #2
She leans into me. ‘Don’t stress. I’ll put up the pitch fee.
Call it my way of helping.’ She’s interrupted by Olly running around the table from his dad and trying to crawl up onto her lap.
She lifts him up, and he snuggles into her, pulling at his ear.
‘I think this one has had enough excitement for the day.’ She kisses the top of his head.
‘And stop worrying, it’ll be great promotion for your business. ’
Reeni and Aaron have set off with a tired crying Olly, Dillon’s said his goodbyes and Milo’s already halfway down the road, taking his mum back home in his Mini. That leaves me, Greg and Jackson.
‘Back to the café?’ Greg asks.
‘Perfect, I’m heading that way, too. I’ve got to pick up the van,’ says Jackson, casual as anything.
‘Surely Lyonstown Road will get you there quicker,’ says Greg, shooting him a very uncharacteristic, narrowed look.
Something flickers across Jackson’s face, but it’s gone before it settles and it’s too quick to read.
‘No, the coast road has a better view.’ He catches my eye for a fleeting second before I break the contact and busy myself tidying up the glasses on the table.
‘Whatever,’ grumbles Greg. Then I feel his hand on the small of my back. ‘Ready?’
The sun is hiding behind a cloud and the wind coming in from the sea whips across us. The further we walk, the chiller it gets. I rub my arms hard to warm up as we approach The Beach House.
‘Here, take this.’ Jackson shrugs off his jacket and hands it across Greg to me.
‘She’s fine. She doesn’t need your coat.’ Greg pushes the jacket back before I have any chance to decide what to do about Jackson’s offer.
‘Don’t be stupid. She’s cold.’
The pair of them have stopped walking and are facing each other.
‘She’d have said if she was cold.’ Greg is glaring at Jackson and the air is static with tension.
‘She obviously is, so what were you going to do about it? Offer her your tie to keep warm? Very useful in a gale.’ Jackson’s eyebrow with the gold hoop arches as if to emphasise the absurdity of that scenario. ‘Are you cold, Ellie?’ he adds, his voice low and deliberate.
I’ve had enough. ‘Oh my God. Stop it, the pair of you,’ I snap, holding up both hands.
‘I don’t need either of you playing the hero.
I can speak for myself.’ And without waiting for an answer, I march away from them and find myself looking straight at Mum and Dad.
They’re standing at the front of their car and have watched the whole altercation. Crap.
Mum waves as I get closer. ‘I’m so glad we caught you.’
‘Hey, Mum,’ I say, stopping by her.
Jackson keeps walking. ‘See you around, Ellie,’ he calls. Then, with a pointed glance at Greg he says, ‘Lovely to meet you, Greg. Look after that tie, yeah?’
Greg chooses not to reply and simply glowers. I switch my attention to Dad to find him staring at Jackson as if he’s mentally filing away every detail. Before I can explain, Dad calls Greg over, leaving me with Mum.
Like everyone else, Mum is staring at the back of the retreating Jackson. ‘I didn’t know you still saw him?’
‘I don’t. I haven’t seen him in years. He’s back visiting family.’ I shrug as if Jackson being back in my life is a non-event and try to desperately ignore how hard my heart is thumping.
‘Be careful, love.’ She clasps her hands together. ‘Don’t get caught up in issues from years ago.’
‘It’s nothing. He’s not staying and I’m not reliving anything.’
We’ve been walking as we talk and all four of us are now at the front door of the café. Greg excuses himself and ducks inside to use the bathroom.
Dad sounds incredulous. ‘Putting up your own photo on the internet obviously hasn’t worked.’
I curse inwardly. I haven’t even taken the bloody photo yet, never mind put it up on Instagram. Not that I’m confessing that to Dad.
He’s still staring around at the empty seats, but Mum is staring straight at me, pity in her eyes. My shoulders slump.
‘I’ve tried really hard, Dad. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.’
‘I can tell you what you’re doing wrong, Eleanor Pittens,’ Dad snaps, and his tone is like having a bucket of ice tipped over my head.
‘Opening up a café in the first place. We never thought it was a good idea, did we, Moira?’ His eyes pierce straight through me.
‘Playing at coffee and cakes. You had a career. A proper one. Why you threw it away for this fairy tale nonsense is beyond me? You’re better than struggling like this. ’
My hands curl into fists. I want to yell that this is my dream, not working in a bloody insurance office.
That I built this. I stayed up for nights figuring out taxes and supplier contracts and how to unclog the espresso machine without electrocuting myself.
But instead, I stay quiet, like I always do with my dad.
‘I don’t think Ellie’s struggling. Maybe if she …’ starts Mum.
‘Of course she is, Moira. Look around you for goodness’ sake. She’s in dreamland. You need to wind this up and get yourself a proper job again with prospects that you’ll be proud of.’
More like one he’ll be proud of with his mates down the golf club.
‘We’re going through a tough patch. Lots of businesses are right now. I’m proud of what I’ve built up,’ I say, almost pleading with him to understand.
‘You haven’t built anything up.’ Dad’s face looks like thunder. ‘And now you’re talking to him again? Jackson? You already ruined your life once mooning over him.’
‘He’s not back for me,’ I say, exasperated. ‘He’s back to see family.’
‘Then keep it that way.’ He glares at me.
‘Greg is a much more suitable fit for you. You need to get a decent job. He’s never going to think you’re worth being with flogging this dead horse.
’ He casts yet another eye around my empty café.
‘Come on, Moira. We’ve got a long drive and I need to have a break midway. ’ And he stalks off towards the car.
Mum pats me on the arm. ‘I’m sorry, love. He’s stressed about the journey home.’
Will there ever be a time when she doesn’t back him?
‘I don’t want to give up on this, Mum. It’s not a pipe dream.’
Greg has come back out to join us, and Mum shuffles backwards.
‘Of course it’s not, love.’ She glances towards her husband. ‘But maybe your dad’s right. Would you be better in a real job?’
‘A real …’ Greg begins, but I shove my elbow into his ribs, stopping him.
‘I’ll think about it, Mum,’ I say. It’s the last thing I want to do, but maybe they are right. If business doesn’t pick up soon, I won’t be able to keep going for much longer anyway.
My throat burns. My café’s empty. My parents just drove away believing I’m a failure. And now the man I’m supposed to be interested in is standing next to me, but I don’t think I care.
Greg clears his throat. ‘I was wondering.’
I scowl at the back of my parents’ car till it’s a dot with two red lights in the far distance. I never seem to be able to do anything right in their eyes. Suddenly, the silence seems to be rebounding around me. I turn to Greg, disorientated, to find him looking at me expectantly.
‘Sorry, what?’
He draws a circle in the sand with his foot and won’t meet my eye. ‘Would you maybe want to go out sometime?’
My head’s a mess. And my heart’s still somewhere near the beach, kissing someone I haven’t touched in seventeen years. Shit. I need to get a grip.
‘What? Now?’
‘Not now, this minute. I thought we could walk along the cliff top someday, to the new pub?’
A seagull lands on the nearest picnic table and begins to drag an empty disposable coffee cup away. I turn to flap my hands at the huge grey bird.
‘The food’s supposed to be fabulous,’ Greg continues, picking at his nails uncomfortably.
‘Oh, right. Yes. I guess.’ I must sound about as enthusiastic as someone being asked to watch paint dry in the rain.
‘Nothing serious. I mean I know you don’t want commitment, but I thought going to dinner might be nice?’
Days ago this was exactly what I wanted and a pang of guilt hits me. I make the effort to change my tone. ‘That’d be lovely. I’ve heard great things about it. Next week?’
‘It’s a date.’ Greg beams at me. ‘The non-serious kind.’
‘Lovely.’ I give him a grateful smile and pat him on the arm as I turn to head into the café to see if Jill’s had a better day than I have.