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“I was proud when you took your first steps so early,” her mum carried on with a faraway look in her eye. “All the other babies started months after you—by that time you were running.”
“How much has she had to drink?” Caroline whispered.
“I’m thinking too much,” Kirsty whispered back.
Caroline went into take-charge mode.
“Come on, Mrs Campbell. You can tell me all about it over a nice cup of tea.”
“You go, Mum. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She gave her a big hug and heard her sob.
“I love you, Kirsty,” her mum said.
“I love you too, Mum.”
“Time for tea,” Caroline said as she manoeuvred Kirsty’s mum through the shop.
Kirsty mouthed “thank you” to her friend as she led her mother out into the street and along the road to her house. She was still smiling fondly after them when Jean sidled up to her.
“Kirsty?” she said out of the side of her mouth, so as not to be noticed. Although lowering her voice might have helped on that front too. “Where are the sex toys?”
Kirsty rolled her eyes.
“I told you before, I don’t sell sex toys. I sell lingerie.”
Jean looked confused, which led Kirsty to believe that she’d had about the same amount to drink as her mother. She took the half-empty glass of wine out of Jean’s hand and looked around for somewhere to put it. Dougal appeared and took it off her.
“Dougal, you couldn’t get Jean home, could you? She’s a bit worse for wear.”
“Kirsty won’t let me look at the sex toys,” Jean complained.
“Ah...” said Dougal.
Jean swayed as she bent over to look around Kirsty and talk to the bar owner.
“I’ve never seen a sex toy, I was really looking forward to it.”
She waited for Dougal to say something important in reply.
“Would you like to see a snooker table instead?” he asked in the end.
“Oh yes, that’d be lovely.”
Jean lit up like a Christmas tree as she took the bewildered Dougal’s arm and let him lead her from the shop. Kirsty shook her head and helped the wait staff clear up the mess. It made her smile to think that the staff, food and caterer had all made their way over to her shop. She got to have the services Lake had paid for, and without going to the bother of arranging it. Dougal didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. He told Kirsty it wasn’t his problem that Lake couldn’t keep a hold of his own shindig. Kirsty didn’t feel guilty about the theft either. She thought it was the least she deserved for letting Lake mess around in her life.
“You stole my publicity and my party,” said the voice from the door.
Kirsty turned to find Lake leaning nonchalantly against the front doorjamb. It seemed that all she had to do these days was think about him and he appeared. It was as though she had her own pesky Tinker Bell. Although hers was six foot two and built like a brick house. With his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets and his feet crossed at the ankles, he was obviously trying to appear non-threatening. It wasn’t working.
“The least you could have done,” he drawled, “was to keep on the underwear and the coat. I like the coat.”
Men—they all seemed to have a thing about fur coats.
“You said fight back,” she said with a shrug. “So I did.”
“That you did,” Lake said as he picked his way through the shop. “I see you made a decent amount of sales, too.”
He nodded to the half-empty racks.
