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Chapter 8
‘No, thank you!’ Helen shuddered. ‘If it’s all the same to you, I’ll stay here. I don’t like fairground rides.’
Annabelle was secretly relieved. She found Brett’s mother hard work. The woman hadn’t stopped going on about Sandwich Gate all afternoon, and whenever she brought it up Annabelle got the impression that she was having a snide dig at Ron.
Ron, bless him, had been stoic in the face of the woman’s disgruntlement, and hadn’t said a word. Mind you, Annabelle thought, he hadn’t needed to with Aunt Beverley in his corner championing him.
So it was with a certain amount of relief that Annabelle heard Helen say she wouldn’t be accompanying them to the amusement park this evening.
‘And don’t be thinking you can leave that animal with me,’ Helen said, jabbing a finger in Pepe’s direction. ‘I’m not looking after it.’
‘I wouldn’t trust you to,’ Beverley snapped back. ‘You don’t like him.’
‘It’s hardly surprising, is it? The dog’s a menace.’
‘He doesn’t like you, either,’ Beverley added, in a so-there tone of voice.
‘I don’t care whether that creature likes me or not.’ Helen pursed her lips. ‘All I care about is whether he’s adequately trained – and he definitely isn’t.’
‘It was just a sodding sandwich.’ Beverley’s face was purple.
‘He snatched it out of my hand and nearly bit my finger off.’
‘Don’t be so dramatic. He was nowhere near your finger.’ Beverley scooped Pepe up and cradled him in her arms. ‘You shouldn’t have been waving your sandwich around. He thought it was for him.’
‘I wasn’t waving it – I waseatingit.’
‘Ladies! Enough.’ Brett clapped his hands and the two women ceased bickering long enough for Kate to hustle Beverley out of the room.
‘Go get ready,’ she said to her mum. ‘We’ll leave in about ten minutes, yeah?’
Still muttering and grumbling, Beverley trotted down the stairs and everyone else scrambled to sort themselves out.
‘We’ll drive into Porthcawl,’ Kate said a short while later when they were all assembled in the hall. ‘I think we’ve done enough walking for today. My legs are killing me.’
Annabelle was also feeling a bit weary and could quite happily have curled up in a chair and watched TV for the evening, but when Portia said she wanted to go to the shows, Jake, Izzie and Sam had staged a concerted effort to persuade the adults to let them go, too. And because they were too young to go on their own, it was decided that everyone should go. Apart from Helen, who had poured scorn on the idea.
‘We’ll take our car,’ Kate was saying. ‘Annabelle, do you think you can take yours? Mum and Ron, if you go with Annabelle, Ellis and Portia can come with us. Sam and Jake, if you go with Annabelle, maybe Izzie can come with us, too?’
Izzie, wide-eyed and uncertain, looked to her mum for guidance, but Portia got there before Annabelle could reply.
‘You can sit in the middle,’ Portia said. ‘Do you like rides? I think they’ve got a merry-go-round and a rollercoaster.’
Izzie nodded, and slipped her hand into Portia’s.
‘Thank you,’ Annabelle mouthed to the teenager as she caught her eye. With Jake having found a friend in Sam, Annabelle had been worrying that Izzie might feel left out.
‘Everyone ready?’ Kate asked, bustling around, making sure people had fleeces, hoodies or cardigans, and delving into her bag for her car keys.
Annabelle followed Kate and Brett’s car, acutely conscious of Ron’s lean form in the passenger seat next to her. She could almost feel his body heat, and once, when her hand brushed up against his leg as she changed gears, she almost jumped a mile, for which she apologised profusely. Not for the jumping, because she hoped he hadn’t noticed her reaction, but for inadvertently touching him.
He apologised back, shifting in his seat and edging his thigh away.
She could smell him too, an outdoorsy, fresh male scent with a vague hint of soap and laundry detergent, unmasked by aftershave or cologne. It made her feel a little light-headed, but she put the woozy feeling down to having been out in the sun all day.
She was still feeling a little out-of-sorts when she clambered stiffly out of the car.
‘Are you OK?’ Ron asked.
