‘Not according to my records.’
The horns continue to blare from both ends of the road. Tobias is aware of the odd curtain twitching, blinds tilting and he raises a hand in all directions as if to acknowledge an own goal.
‘Look, you’ll have to take it back and redeliver,’ he says.
The driver frowns.
‘No can do, mate. We haven’t got space in the stockroom. The delivery charges will be doubled as well. I wouldn’t advise it.’
‘He’s probably right,’ says Marcus. ‘Bespoke goods are usually non-returnable and if we did get it redelivered, it would most likely be damaged or incomplete after hanging around in storage. I’ve seen it happen before.’
Tobias, the delivery driver and Marcus all look at one another as the sun beats down on pinking heads, necks and arms.
‘Okay, okay,’ says Tobias eventually. ‘Just make sure it’s all present and correct.’ He hears someone lean out of an open carwindow and shout something that sounds abusive. ‘But I’m not signing off anything until we’ve checked it’s complete.’
He turns away, indicating that this is Marcus’s responsibility. And that’s when he sees an older couple approaching from up the road. They look familiar and he quickly pegs them as the owners of the B & B he chatted with a while ago. Of course, he’s forgotten their names.
‘Jeff and Barbara Cummings,’ supplies the man obligingly as he steers his wife gently with an arm in the small of her back. ‘We met the other day. Owners of Morningside B & B.’
‘Yes, yes, I remember,’ says Tobias nodding, one eye on the delivery lorry as Marcus steps up into the back of it. ‘How can I help?’
‘It’s just that you’re blocking the road,’ says Barbara, a mousy woman in every respect.
‘Yes,’ says Tobias, his voice patronising. ‘I am aware of that fact.’
‘One of our guests can’t get their car out. And we’re expecting a new arrival to check in soon as well. So you see, this is all very inconvenient. Not just for business but for the locals too.’
Tobias gives her the full force of his gaze.
‘As alocalhomeowner myself, I completely understand. And surely you must sympathise, since you had some renovation work done yourselves recently, I believe.’
‘Yes but it didn’t cause any kind of disruption,’ says Jeff, blinking behind his heavy-framed glasses. ‘Nothing like this.’
‘It’s this sort of thing that causes bad feeling,’ adds Barbara. ‘People don’t come on holiday to the seaside to get stuck behind a dirty great lorry. They get upset. Won’t want to rebook for next year.’
Tobias loses patience as the honking of horns and shouts continues. Why can’t Marcus bloody well hurry up? They haven’t even started unloading yet. He turns back to the old couple.
‘Yes, well I’m sorry but that’s hardly my fault.’
‘It is if you’ve caused the problem, created the bad feeling. We’re only as good as our reviews on TripAdvisor, you know. We rely on loyal customers, word of mouth, return business.’
‘Look,’ says Tobias, finally snapping. ‘If people no longer want to stay in your poxy little outdated place – and who can blame them when they can stay in a perfectly nice hotel or modern Airbnb – it’s your problem, not mine. But it certainly isn’t down to a bit of congestion, I assure you.’ The couple take a step backwards as if physically struck. ‘Indeed, I suggest you look a bit closer to home for reasons why your business is failing. Or better still, sell up. You’re fighting a losing battle, you do know that, don’t you? Now, please, if you don’t mind?’ He gesticulates towards the lorry, the traffic jam, Marcus’s head which is finally emerging from the back of the truck. ‘I have more important things to deal with.’
Barbara and Jeff stand there for a moment longer, as though paralysed, their faces full of shock until they grasp each other’s hand awkwardly and turn to walk slowly back towards their home.
25
Lottie slumps down on the white sofa, reads the driftwood affirmations on the walls declaring: ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ and ‘Life’s a Beach’. She tries to remember she is here on holiday and supposed to be relaxing, enjoying herself. But she can’t release the tension in her limbs, the anger she feels bubbling up in her at any given moment.
Has she always found it this hard to switch off? She never thought of herself as ‘uptight’ or ‘difficult’, though she imagines these are some of the many labels that have been attached to her recently. It’s funny though, she reflects. It didn’t seem to be a problem when she was younger. Yes, she was still given labels – ‘rebellious teenager’, ‘strident feminist’, ‘crusading campaigner’ – but all these roles felt like they had a glamorous edge to them in her youth. Now, in her mid-thirties, it feels like she is deemed less attractive or admirable in her causes, inhabiting more the role of ‘outspoken employee’, ‘killjoy’ or, even worse, ‘a complete Karen’ – a monicker which she has always felt most unfair since she has at least two friends called Karen who are really nice.
She can hear Tim’s soft, soporific voice as he tries to settle Josh down for a nap. Where does he get his reserves of patience from? Or is it just apathy, she ponders? Is life easier if you just give up, stop fighting and accept the status quo? That this is the way of the world and the likes of Tobias and Olivia Woolf will always exist and, ultimately, win.
Lottie sinks further into the sofa, considers taking a shower, maybe even having a lie-down with Tim. To remind him that sheis still the girl he fell in love with, that there is sweetness and not just sourness in this woman too. She looks up to see him coming back into the room.
‘And, he’s off,’ he says, sotto voce.
‘Well done.’
