‘Yeah. God, the pun is cringe, isn’t it?’ She laughed. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking.’
‘No, I think it’s good. It’s your name, you might as well make use of it.’
‘Lou’s just moved here,’ Victoria told Hazel.
‘Oh, welcome to Dingle.’ Hazel smiled at her.
‘Thanks.’
‘Well, what’ll you all have?’ Hazel asked, taking a notepad from the pocket of her apron.
Lou glanced across at the display case, full of delicious-looking cakes and pastries.
‘You have to try the scones – they’re to die for,’ Victoria said to her.
‘Actually, everything Hazel makes is amazing,’ Trina said. ‘We’ve eaten our way through her entire range multiple times.’
‘Sorry,’ Hazel said, ‘but you can’t say that any more. I’ve just made a new sour cherry and almond Danish that’s making its debut today.’
‘Damn!’ Victoria said. ‘Just when I thought it was safe to come in here without using up my treat allowance for the week. Well, I suppose I’ll have to try one of those,’ she said, faking a put-upon sigh.
Lou ordered a scone, feeling in need of something comforting to console her.
When Hazel came back with their coffees, she handed Lou a paper bag. ‘Just a little something to welcome you to the neighbourhood,’ she said.
Lou peered into the bag, which contained a selection of pastries. ‘Wow, thank you so much. These look delicious.’
‘She just does it to get you hooked, so you’ll keep coming back,’ Victoria said teasingly.
‘Ah, you’re wise to my methods.’ Hazel winked at her. ‘Well, enjoy!’ she said before scooting off again.
‘So how are you settling in here, Lou?’ Trina asked her.
‘Great.’ At least, yesterday she’d have said they were settling in great, that everyone was really friendly and welcoming. Right now, she wasn’t so sure. ‘Are you all from around here originally?’
‘Vic and I are. We’re a right pair of culchies,’ Erin said with a laugh, jokingly using Dubliners’ derisive term for people from the countryside. ‘Trina’s from Dublin originally, like you.’
‘Oh, what part?’
‘Blackrock,’ Trina said. The coastal suburb was one of the poshest areas of Dublin. Aidan would approve, Lou thought bitterly. ‘You?’
Lou hesitated a moment, considering what to say. The suburb where she’d grown up wasn’t posh, but it was nicer than where she’d ended up. ‘The Liberties,’ she said finally, without specifying exactly whereabouts. It was one of the oldest parts of Dublin, historically a working-class neighbourhood and housing the Guinness brewery, but had undergone a lot of gentrification and now had a mix of social housing, hotels and modern apartment complexes.
‘Oh, I lived in Christchurch for a while,’ Victoria said.
‘You lived in Dublin?’
She nodded. ‘For about five years, in my modelling days. Gazillions of years ago.’
‘You were a model?’ Lou wasn’t really surprised. Victoria was tall and striking, with a tumble of golden blonde hair, glowing skin, great bone structure and clear green eyes.
‘It’s not as glamorous as it sounds,’ Victoria said with a dismissive wave of her hand. ‘Mainly promotional and photographic stuff, some TV ads and a few department store fashion shows. I wasn’t giving the likes of Gigi Hadid any sleepless nights.’
‘So what made you move to Dingle?’
‘Love,’ she said, pressing a hand to her heart and fluttering her eyelashes. ‘My husband is from Dingle.’
‘Vic’s married to Neil O’Leary,’ Erin said.
