‘You can’t open a tearoom,’ she snapped.
Will glanced her way for a second, frowning. ‘Why, what’s wrong? I think it’s a great location, and it’ll give me a steady income. I’ve been doing some research, and it’s definitely a great investment.’
‘Investment, yes, but do you even bake cakes? Is it your dream?’ she snapped again.
‘Erm, no, I don’t bake, and I wouldn’t use the word dream exactly. This is business, and I want something staff can runwhile I focus on my voluntary jobs. It’s perfect for me, and for the community. I thought you’d be pleased. Mabel reckons everyone will love having a tea shop along the front.’
‘Well, Mabel’s right, but you don’t understand.’
‘Understand what?’
Ginny tapped her chest. ‘That was my idea.’
‘Oh, sorry. I didn’t know. When were you opening?’
‘I’m not. Well, I plan to. I just don’t have anything set in stone yet.’
‘So what are you saying here? You just had the idea and that’s it?’
Ginny shrugged. He had her there. How could her idea compete with his actions? ‘I was in prep mode.’
‘Is that right? And now what? You’ve got the hump with me for getting on with it?’
‘Yes!’
‘You’re being ridiculous.’
Ginny huffed. ‘I’m being ridiculous?’
‘Yeah, you are. You can’t have a go at someone for opening a shop that you just dreamed about. If you told me you already had the wheels in motion, then I would sell something else in my shop, but all you’ve got is an idea that no doubt a lot of others in Port Berry have.’
‘Oh, well, just stomp all over me why don’t you.’
‘I’m not stomping on you, Ginny. You have a café. If I were opening one of those I’d see your point, but as it stands, your point is stupid.’
‘Got any more names you want to call me?’
Will sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not calling you any names. I wouldn’t. I’m merely pointing out how unfair you’re being.’
‘Unfair? I’ll tell you what’s unfair. Some stranger buying your dream, then no doubt buggering off in a couple of years to see if he can find another home.’
‘I told you I’m settling in Port Berry.’
‘Way to make friends, Will.’ She folded her arms, staring out at the thickening snow falling harder and faster.
‘Oh, that’s just great!’
At first she thought he was talking to her, but then the truck slowed, and Will peered closer to the front window.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, wondering what her chances of survival were if she jumped out and scarpered down the motorway.
‘Accident up ahead. We’re being directed to the slip road.’
The snow was getting worse by the minute, and Ginny wished they had stayed in Tenby another night. The windscreen wipers were on full, and the vehicle mooched along at a snail’s pace. Visibility was poor, and neither of their bad moods helped.
‘They call this karma,’ she said, leaning forward as though her eyes would help with the driving.
Will scoffed. ‘Karma for what?’
