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‘I want to introduce you to Dickens.’
‘Dickens?’ Toby and Thea said in unison.
‘Yes, the cat. That’s his name. I should have told you in the first place, but …’ he trailed off.
Thea looked at him, relieved. Was that what all this was about? He felt guilty that he hadn’t told them about his cat, and that was why he hadn’t come back yesterday afternoon? ‘Oh, goodness, don’t be silly.’
‘I know it’s not ideal, with your dog and all, but I’m afraid I just can’t keep Dickens away. As you can see.’
‘He’s travelling with you in your campervan?’ Toby asked.
‘Yes, I’m afraid so.’
‘That issocool. When I’m older, I want to hit the road travelling with my dog.’
Thea said, ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘Like John Steinbeck,’ commented Callum.
‘You’ve read that book too –Travels with Charley?’
Callum admitted he hadn’t. ‘No, but I’ve heard of it.’ He smiled at Toby. ‘Right, well after we’ve had a well-earned coffee and croissant, we can crack on. Well, for one of us it’s well-earned.’
Thea caught Toby and Callum looking at her Marigolds. ‘Yeah, it’s just been me working in the shop this morning.’
Toby looked at her sheepishly.
‘Well, we can’t have that,’ said Callum. ‘I’ll help with some cleaning after setting Toby to work on the bookbinding.’ He carried the drinks and croissants over to the counter at the back of the shop, where there were a couple of chairs and a stool, all quite tatty, with seat pads that had seen better days.
Callum offered Thea a coffee, and gave Toby his drink. ‘Hope you like hot chocolate.’
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘Help yourself to a croissant, or a doughnut. I wasn’t sure what you’d like.’ Callum had thoughtfully brought some paper napkins from the café.
‘That’s very kind of you, Callum.’
‘It’s the least I can do after bailing yesterday afternoon.’
Thea glanced at the old black and white cat with the grey whiskers as he jumped up on to the counter top.
Winston thought he’d join the cat, by jumping up, front paws on the counter top. Thea told him off. ‘No! Down!’
Winston slunk off to the corner of the room, and sat there panting, staring at the cat.
Satisfied the dog was not going to bother him, Dickens sat licking his paw, looking as though he was minding his own business, which he wasn’t. Thea watched in amusement as Dickens started to move closer to Callum’s croissant when he thought Callum wasn’t looking. The cat moved several inches at a time, then sat there licking a paw as though he hadn’t budged.
‘I hope you’d be so kind as to accompany me to lunch,’ said Callum, picking his croissant up, and shaking a finger at Dickens. ‘I booked a table at The Two Magpies Bakery on my way here – my treat.’
Thea looked at her coffee and croissant as she took off her Marigold gloves. She hadn’t expected an invite to lunch too. She smiled at him.
He smiled shyly back, but once again she noticed there didn’t feel as though there was the same easy banter or flirtatious behaviour. Perhaps that’s my fault. Thea thought there must have been more to his failure to turn up the previous day than simply the cat.
He was a good-looking actor, and famous, and no doubt used to women coming on to him. Perhaps if he was interested, which she thought he was, he was backing off, wanting to take things slow.
Thea decided that was for the best; she’d just broken up with who she’d thought was the love of her life. She knew Callum had broken up with his girlfriend. She’d broken it off, according to the gossip columns.
Thea had Googled him the previous evening; she hadn’t been able to help herself. Then she’d asked Katie if she could borrow the DVDs they’d talked about to lend to the ladies in the charity shop.
