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“Oh, I am sorry, let me get you a refill,” I offer.
“Check it first. I don't want another shit latte.” She smiles sweetly. I turn to find Emily glaring at the woman.
Emily tugs the mostly finished cup out of my hand and sniffs it. “Oh, you’re right,” she says. “It smells like…” She contemplates her words, then looks into the cup. “That's it. It smells like insecurity.”
“Emily!” I gasp, turning to look back at Cam’s wife, but she is on the phone.
“Relax, she didn’t hear. I wish she had, the stuck-up cow.” I smother a laugh and make a fresh latte, taking it to the table. She’s still on a call and when she sees me, she smiles.
“Okay, baby, can’t wait to see you later.”
“Here you go. Sorry about that. Is yours okay?” I twist to her friend still drinking hers happily. Jeez, they could at least fake it together. She flushes and nods, drawing a sigh from Cam’s wife. “How bizarre. Enjoy.”
“Tweedledee and Tweedledum happy now?” Emily mutters, pulling a snort of laughter from me.
“They got a latte time on their hands,” I deadpan, and Emily barks out a laugh. Outside on the green, residents begin setting up for the outdoor theatre, taking place this weekend. “I can’t wait for tomorrow. I've never seen The Greatest Showman,” I confess, popping my cloth in the wash basket and getting a clean one out as Keeley slips behind the counter.
“Oh, I love it!” Keeley says, “I love musicals.”
“I’ve not seen it either. Who are you going with?” Em asks her.
“I have a date!” she squeaks.
“Wow, what a fab first date.” I smile. She looks so happy, nervous but happy.
“What would your perfect first date be?” Keeley asks me wistfully. Emily leans her elbow on the counter and grins at me.
I tap my teeth and hum. “Best first date,” I murmur, thinking. “Prosecco picnic, meadow, bit of music and lots ofstars.” I list them off on my finger, mentally fighting with picturing it with anyone but Cameron.
“Lame,” someone mutters. Emily glares over my shoulder, and I know it’s the Cam brigade.
“What about you?” I ask Emily, refusing to react to Cameron’s wife.
“Well, if you hadn’t already noticed from my fat arse, I like food.” She laughs. “I’d want to go to a swanky restaurant and then a late-night walk after or some other kind of exercise.” She winks with a grin. She means sex.
“Your ass is not fat. I’d die for your curves.” I admit. “Favourite food?”
“At the minute, brownies. Damn you, Danielle!” she fake cries. “But it’s probably Italian.”
“We should all go for a meal,” I suggest to the girls. They agree, and with that settled, we get back to work.
“Come on,Beau, our seats are up here.” I point ahead, showing her where we are going. The village green has been transformed into a big open theatre, an enormous white screen is positioned against the far side and in front of it, rows and rows of coloured deck chairs fill the crisp grass. Much like a cinema, the rows are lettered and the chairs are numbered. Beau takes my hand, and we all make our way over. “Here we go, Em, we’ll sit on the end, in case Beau needs to use the toilet.”
“Okay, here, pass that cool box and I’ll pour our drinks.”
I heave it up and hand it to her before turning back to help Beau into her deck chair. It swallows her whole and her pigtails go askew. “Ahh, Mummy, help!” She giggles, grappling to get up,but she can’t. I laugh loudly and Emily looks over, bursting into laughter.
“Oh, boo!” I try to help her sit upright. Her eyes are big and wide. I can’t stop myself. I pull out my phone and take a photo of her. “Right, sorry, Mummy will help.”
“I'm stuck!” she grunts, trying to shift, but she’s all arms and legs and nothing else.
“Please stop moving,” I say.
“Mummy!” Beau whines.
“Holly?” a male voice says, pulling all our heads round to find a tall and angular man looking down at me. “Holly Matthews?”
“Yes?”
