The Little Bed & Breakfast by the Sea Read online

  ‘What did he do this time?’ Mae asked.

  ‘Got himself roaring drunk – again – and somehow ended up knocking the clock down. He says it wasn’t him, but I know it was, the little arsehole. He could hardly walk straight when he left last night, but at least he didn’t spew on my floor this time.’

  ‘He’s on his very last warning,’ Frank said. ‘Any more monkey business and he’s barred.’

  ‘Any more monkey business and he’ll have my boot up his arse.’ Corinne patted Mae on the arm and stood again. ‘Don’t forget those balloons, Frank, otherwise my other boot will have your name on it.’

  ‘See what I mean?’ Frank whispered once his wife was out of view. ‘Tyrant.’

  Mae ended up winning the game of dominoes, though she took pity on Frank and helped blow up the balloons after a momentary gloat. They hung the bunting across the bar and stuck the balloons up in small clusters around the pub.

  ‘Can I get you another?’ Mae asked Tom Byrne as she collected his empty glass from the bar. He’d been perched on that stool when she’d started her shift after taking Melody to the walk-in centre, and had probably been there since opening, but Tom wasn’t quite the drinker you’d expect from someone who spent every hour possible in the Fisherman.

  ‘Yes, please,’ Tom said with a quick nod of his head. He looked at his watch and raised his bushy eyebrows. ‘It’s been a long day. And quiet.’ He glanced around the pub, which only had three customers at the moment.

  Mae grabbed a clean glass and started to fill it with Tom’s preferred bitter. ‘It’ll pick up soon. It’ll be two for one in a bit. That always brings people in.’

  ‘Young uns.’ Tom tutted. ‘Rowdy and legless.’

  ‘They’re not all that bad.’ Mae placed the pint on the bar. Although Tom had been in the pub for hours, this was only the first pint Mae had served him. He rarely drank much – the Fisherman was more about socialising for Tom, especially since he’d retired a few months ago. He’d been divorced for a number of years and now lived alone, and as he didn’t have any children, Mae suspected he was lonely with only his cat for company. So he spent a lot of time in the Fisherman, chatting with the staff and customers, stretching out his drinks for as long as possible, though Frank and Corinne wouldn’t have minded if he didn’t bother with the pretence at all. He was always welcome at the Fisherman, drink or no drink.

  ‘I think I’ll have this pint and be off, just to be on the safe side,’ Tom said. ‘Our Tiddles will need feeding anyway.’

  ‘Aren’t you staying for Doreen’s party?’ Mae asked. ‘It might be fun, especially if Doreen’s got any single friends.’ She winked at Tom, who grumbled something inaudible before taking a sip of his pint.

  ‘Speaking of fun,’ Tom said, placing his pint back down on the bar. ‘Have you been on a date with that vet of yours yet?’

  Mae groaned. Was everyone discussing her love life now?

  ‘He’s a decent bloke, you know,’ Tom said. ‘You could do worse.’

  ‘He’s lovely,’ Mae agreed. ‘But I’m not interested. Not in Alfie, or any man in general.’

  ‘So I don’t stand a chance then?’ Tom winked at her and took another sip of his pint. ‘Oh, speak of the devil. Look who’s here.’

  Mae turned and there was Alfie, stepping into the pub. Although he’d more than likely come straight over from the surgery, he’d removed his scrubs and was instead clad in a pair of jeans and a rather tight T-shirt that hinted the local vet wasn’t a stranger to the gym.

  ‘All right, vet?’ Tom called out, raising a hand. ‘We were just talking about you.’

  Oh, for—

  ‘Were you?’ A smile flickered at the corners of Alfie’s mouth as he made his way over. ‘All good, I hope?’

  ‘Nobody has a bad word to say about you,’ Tom said. ‘Least of all this one.’ He nodded his head towards Mae, the corners of his lips twitching.

  Mae shot secret daggers at the interfering old git before turning to Alfie. ‘He’s been drinking all day. Ignore him.’ She inched away from Tom, hoping Alfie would follow, putting them both at a safe distance from further interference. ‘What can I get you?’

  ‘Just an orange juice, please. I’m pacing myself.’

  Mae reached for a glass from the shelf beneath the bar. ‘How come?’

  Alfie pointed upwards, at the bunting she and Frank had hung rather haphazardly earlier. ‘Doreen’s invited me to her birthday party, so I’m here for a few hours. I’ve got a couple of surgeries scheduled for tomorrow and having a hangover won’t mix well with that.’

  ‘Doreen invited you? Herself?’

  Alfie nodded, a grin creeping onto his face and giving him a boyish look. ‘It’s the worst surprise party known to man.’

  Mae grabbed a bottle of orange juice from the fridge. ‘I didn’t know you and Doreen were friends.’ She flipped the bottle-top off and placed the juice on the bar.

  ‘I treated her toy poodle a couple of months ago and ever since we’ve been like that.’ Alfie lifted his hand, his index and forefingers entwined. ‘She pops by the surgery at least once a week with a box of surplus veggies from her husband’s allotment. I’m getting pretty good at cooking a veggie madras.’

  ‘Sounds delicious,’ Mae said.

  Alfie rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the bar, sneaking a glance up at Mae as he spoke. ‘You could come over and try it some time?’

  ‘A madras is far too spicy for me. I start to sweat eating a tikka masala.’

  ‘I could make something else. It doesn’t even have to be made from Doreen’s veggies…’ Alfie’s eyes were wide, hope beaming from each of them. They were beautiful eyes; dark and intense while having the ability to soften whenever Alfie smiled or laughed.

  ‘Alfie…’ Mae tore her eyes away from his gaze, afraid they would mesmerise her into agreeing to almost anything. Secretly, she sometimes wondered what it would be like if she lowered her defences and allowed herself to fall in love again. She got on well with Alfie, and she couldn’t help being attracted to him, but there was just so much at stake.

  Alfie lifted his hands. ‘It’s okay. I know the drill. No dinner.’

  ‘You know it’d be a lot less awkward if you accepted that we’re just going to be friends, don’t you?’ She heard Tom mumble something from his corner of the bar. It sounded very much like ‘you’re a bloody fool, girl’, but she chose to ignore it.

  ‘And give up?’ Alfie shook his head. ‘Nah, I’m made of sterner stuff than that.’

  Luckily, Tom didn’t say anything further and Alfie moved away from the bar to secure a seat as the pub began to fill up for Happy Hour.

  ‘Are you still here?’ Corinne asked as she joined Mae behind the bar. ‘I sent Frank down ages ago to send you home.’

  ‘He’s over there.’ Mae pointed across the pub, where Frank was setting up the karaoke machine in a corner. ‘He did try to send me home, but I insisted on staying on a bit longer to make up for this morning.’

  Corinne tsked. ‘You don’t have to make anything up. It isn’t like we’re mad busy in the morning.’

  And yet they kept giving Mae shifts. She wasn’t daft, and she also wasn’t comfortable taking money without earning it.

  ‘I’ll help you through Happy Hour and then I’ll get going,’ Mae said as a compromise. ‘Mum’s giving Hannah her dinner, so it’s fine.’

  Corinne observed Mae for a moment before sighing. ‘If you must.’ She gave Mae one last reproving look before moving towards a waiting customer. ‘Remember, you’re on a warning, Gary. I’m not mopping your puke up again. If I think you’re even close to spewing, I’ll throw you out myself and you’ll be barred. Got it? Good. Now, what can I get you?’

  Happy Hour on a Wednesday was always the liveliest midweek shift, so Mae was kept busy for the next hour, serving the customers their two-for-one drinks and collecting empty glasses whenever there was a lull at the bar.
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  ‘Are you going to have a go at the karaoke?’ she asked Tom as she collected glasses from the bar.

  Tom scoffed. ‘I don’t bloody think so, unless Frank and Corinne want the place cleared quickly at closing.’

  ‘I bet you’ve got a lovely singing voice,’ Mae said, and Tom scoffed again. ‘I’m glad I won’t be here for the karaoke, to be honest. Do you remember Edith’s rendition of “Killing Me Softly”?’

  ‘Remember it?’ Tom asked, his eyebrows lifting. ‘My ears are still bleeding from it. She has a good sense of irony, that one, though. She killed us, all right, but there was nothing soft about it.’

  Mae pressed her lips together to stop herself from giggling. Poor Edith. She’d been blessed with a good set of lungs, but unfortunately she didn’t have the voice to go with it. Frank had secretly nicknamed her Foghorn Leghorn since.

  ‘Do you think your vet will have a go?’ Tom asked, which was met with an exasperated sigh from Mae.

  ‘He’s not my vet.’

  Tom shrugged and lifted his pint. ‘That’s not what Corinne says.’ He winked at Mae before bringing the glass to his lips and taking the tiniest sip.

  ‘Corinne’s wrong,’ Mae said before wandering along the bar to serve the new set of customers.

  ‘Corinne’s never wrong,’ Tom called out before chuckling to himself.

  ‘Time’s up, missus,’ Corinne said, tapping her watch as she passed Mae behind the bar. ‘Home time.’

  ‘I’ll just go and collect some glasses before I go,’ Mae said. She heard a tsk as she slipped from behind the bar and headed for the tables. She’d amassed a tall stack by the time she reached Alfie’s table, carefully adding his glass to the top of the pile, but she put them down on the table when she saw his companion.

  ‘Hello, you.’ She crouched so she could stroke the dog sitting under the table. He moved his head to give her better access to his neck, which was covered by a green bandana, and she gave it as good a scratch as she could. ‘Aren’t you a cutie?’

  ‘Don’t tell him that,’ the dog’s owner, who was sitting next to Alfie, said. ‘His ego’s big enough already. He’s becoming the Kanye of the dog world.’

  ‘This is the perfect example of when pets take on the traits of their owners,’ Alfie said with a grin.

  ‘Don’t listen to him,’ the friend said. Mae had seen him in the pub a few times – mostly because she was drawn to the dog he sometimes brought with him.

  ‘Don’t worry, I never listen to Alfie,’ she joked.

  Alfie nodded and sighed. ‘It’s true.’

  The friend – Mae couldn’t recall his name – leaned in towards Alfie. ‘You should try being a bit more interesting, mate. It helps.’

  ‘Thanks for the advice.’ Alfie stood and shuffled out from his position behind the table. ‘Another?’ He indicated the empty glass on the table, which Mae grabbed, along with the stack she’d accumulated.

  ‘Go on then, you’ve twisted my arm.’

  Mae turned back towards the bar, but Alfie reached out and placed a hand on her arm. ‘Why don’t you join us for a drink?’

  Mae looked at the bar, which had emptied now Happy Hour was over. ‘I can’t. My shift’s just finished and I need to get back to the bed and breakfast. Hannah’s maimed one of the guests so I need to get back and make sure she’s okay.’

  ‘What happened?’ Alfie asked, so Mae explained about the wayward Minion and the morning’s trip to the walk-in centre.

  ‘I feel terrible. She was supposed to check out this morning, but I’ve insisted she stay on a few days, at least until travelling will be more comfortable. The problem is, she’s in the middle of a photography project, but she can hardly carry on with a busted ankle.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ Alfie’s friend said. ‘Is this Melody you’re talking about?’

  ‘You know her?’

  The friend nodded. ‘We met a couple of days ago. I had no idea she was still here.’

  Mae cringed. ‘That’s because she’s stuck on my sofa with her ankle all bandaged up.’

  ‘Is it bad?’ the friend asked.

  ‘The doctor didn’t seem too concerned. She said Melody had to rest it for a few days and then take it easy for the next week or two.’

  ‘I’ll pop over and see her in the morning, if that’s okay?’

  Mae nodded. ‘I’m sure she’d appreciate the company.’

  She finished her shift just as Doreen arrived, shrieking with surprise at the party that had been organised on her behalf. Corinne, Frank and part-time barman Tobias had taken over bar duties, so Mae slipped out, heading to her mum’s to pick Hannah up. The sun was still bright as they headed for the car, and the afternoon at the beach had brought out the freckles across her daughter’s nose. She reminded Mae of Hannah’s father with the sun-kissed tinge to her skin, but Mae pushed the thought away as it only made her ache to think of the potential relationship her daughter was missing out on.

  Hannah chatted all the way home, filling Mae in on her day with Nanny. They’d taken a picnic lunch down to the beach, paddling and playing Frisbee and building sandcastles in the sunshine.

  ‘It sounds like you’ve had lots of fun,’ Mae said as she pulled up as near to the bed and breakfast as she could manage. ‘I used to like going to the beach with my grandpa and building the biggest sandcastles.’

  ‘Why don’t I have a grandpa?’ Hannah asked and when Mae peeked at her daughter in the rear-view mirror, her little brow was furrowed with curiosity.

  Hannah did have a grandfather. She had two, in fact, but neither were in her life. Her own father had buggered off without a trace and, although Mae had been close to them, all contact from her ex’s family had stopped as soon as Shane dumped her. She’d reached out to them regularly until shortly after Hannah’s first birthday, but none of them had been interested in meeting the little girl.

  ‘Not everybody has a grandpa,’ Mae said as she unbuckled her seatbelt. She climbed out of the car and helped Hannah out of her seat. ‘But you’re lucky, because you have a wonderful nanny, plus Uncle Frank and Aunt Corinne. They all love you so much.’

  ‘They all love you too,’ Hannah said as she took hold of Mae’s hand. ‘And so does Alfie, so you’re extra lucky.’

  It’s official, Mae thought as they made their way along the pavement towards the house. Everyone was shipping Mae and Alfie, apart from Mae herself.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Willow

  Willow’s face was aching. She’d plastered on her best and well-practised happy-go-lucky face a couple of hours ago and she couldn’t let it slip. Not yet. Not while she was with Mae and Melody. The pair were settled on the sofa with glasses of wine, Melody’s injured ankle propped up between them, while Willow was curled up on one of the chairs by the window. They’d opened a bottle of wine after Mae had put Hannah to bed, but Willow had declined. Under the circumstances, it had taken a Herculean effort.

  ‘Do you know what?’ Willow said now, unfurling from her position in the chair, the bitterness she felt inside almost spilling over and nudging her fake cheer aside. ‘I’d love to join you in a glass of wine, if that’s okay?’

  ‘Of course,’ Mae said, pushing herself up from the sofa. ‘I’ll go and grab you a glass.’

  Willow couldn’t recall the last time she’d had a drink, but it must have been well over a year ago, so the wine soon took effect. She felt looser by the second glass, freer, less bogged down with worry and fear. Her head was fuzzy, but at least it wasn’t buzzing with questions about the future, with their corresponding negative replies. Separating herself from her worries and fears was a rare treat, and she found herself relaxing into her seat, allowing herself to let go more than she had for years.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re both still single,’ she said as Mae refilled their glasses from a fresh bottle. ‘You’re both so gorgeous.’

  ‘I think you’re a little bit tipsy,’ Mae said and Wil
low shrugged.

  ‘Perhaps, but it’s true either way.’ She took a sip of her wine, closing her eyes to savour the long-forgotten flavours.

  ‘It’s a bit difficult dating when you have a little one in tow,’ Mae said.

  ‘Not impossible, though.’ Willow lifted her eyebrows in an am-I-right? fashion. ‘So, what’s stopping you? I bet you have loads of opportunity to meet men, working behind that bar.’

  Mae placed the bottle of wine on the table and returned to the sofa, curling her feet up underneath her. ‘Not as much as you’d think.’

  ‘But there is some.’ Willow leaned forward, poised for gossip. ‘Come on, share.’

  Mae squirmed in her seat and Willow felt bad for prying and making her feel uncomfortable. Willow had been on the receiving end of probing questions too many times herself to put anyone else through it, and she was about to apologise and engineer a swift change of topic when Mae spoke.

  ‘There is someone, I guess.’ Her words were quiet, hesitant, but she continued. ‘He’s liked me for a while, but I’ve always turned him down when he’s asked me out. I do like him, but I can’t take that risk.’

  ‘What would you be risking?’ Melody asked and Mae sighed.

  ‘Everything.’

  ‘You’ve been hurt pretty badly,’ Willow said. She could see it clear as day, now she was looking for it. Mae’s smile was as fake as her own.

  ‘Haven’t we all?’ Mae laughed to make light of it, but Willow wasn’t fooled.

  ‘You’ve built up a wall to protect yourself,’ Melody said. ‘That’s why you won’t let yourself date this bloke.’

  Mae shrugged. ‘I guess.’ She took a sip of wine. A rather large one.

  ‘What’s he like?’ Melody asked. ‘This guy who’s chasing you?’

  Mae laughed again, but it was genuine this time. ‘I wouldn’t say he’s chasing me. Mildly interested, more like.’

  ‘Is he mildly interested in anyone else, though?’ Melody asked, and Mae considered the question for a moment.