She shook her head. ‘I was looking for someone. She needs a room and I’ve just had a cancellation. It would have helped us both out.’
Mae could have kicked herself. Those rooms being empty for two weeks was a massive blow for her business. She relied on the money the bed and breakfast took in over the summer as it made up the bulk of her earnings for the entire year. During off-peak times, she rented out her rooms to students from nearby colleges and universities, but that didn’t bring in anywhere near the revenue the summer holidays did, so every booking was crucial. She needed to fill those rooms as quickly as possible, otherwise she’d be in trouble further down the line.
‘Do you mean Willow?’ Alfie asked. Mae’s brow crinkled. She didn’t actually know the woman’s name. ‘The woman in the dungarees?’ Alfie turned to look at the now-empty seat at the table with the abandoned glass of lemonade.
‘Yes!’ Mae reached forward, grasping hold of Alfie’s forearm. ‘Do you know her?’ Her grip relaxed as Alfie shook his head, her shoulders slumping once again.
‘But I know where she was heading, if it helps?’
Mae’s fingers curled around Alfie’s forearms again. ‘It does. It really, really does.’
Alfie dropped his gaze down to his arm and Mae snatched her fingers away. There was enough gossip about her and the vet around here without her fanning the flames.
‘She was meeting someone at her shop. It’s on Thorpe Lane, near the station. I didn’t catch which shop it was, but it’s a start.’
‘Thank you!’ Mae would have happily leapt across the bar and planted a kiss on Alfie’s cheek in return for his help, but that really would have set tongues wagging in overdrive. Instead she gave his arm another quick squeeze. ‘I owe you a pint!’
‘Only if you’ll join me,’ Alfie said, flashing the grin most women found irresistible. ‘How about tonight? After work? I could pick you up, or meet you back here?’
Mae was shaking her head before Alfie could finish his request. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so busy right now, especially now it’s the summer. I’ve got the B&B, Hannah…’ Mae trailed off as Alfie nodded and started to back away. He’d heard it all before, many times. ‘I still owe you that pint, though. I’ll get it for you now.’
‘It’s okay. Another time.’ Alfie grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. ‘I should be getting back, make sure Anna hasn’t wrecked the joint in my absence. I hope you find Willow.’
Mae pushed her mouth into a brief smile as she lifted a hand. ‘Thanks again. And sorry about… Well, you know.’
‘No worries.’ With a wave of his own, Alfie ducked out of the pub and, although Mae was relieved she’d sidestepped the messy date request, she couldn’t help the feeling of dread worming its way into her stomach. Alfie was a good bloke and for most women he’d be perfect with his unquestionable good looks and caring profession, but dating him was out of the question for Mae. Dating anyone was out of the question for Mae. She hadn’t been lying when she’d told Alfie she was incredibly busy – between the B&B, her bar work and Hannah, she simply didn’t have any time left over for romance.
Or so she told herself on a regular basis. She was almost starting to believe it.
‘Did you manage to catch up with her?’ Corinne asked, nodding at Willow’s vacated table.
‘No, but I know where she’s gone.’ Mae looked up at the clock hanging on one of the pub’s low beams. ‘Hopefully she’ll still be there when my shift’s over.’
Corinne grabbed a pint glass and started to fill it with bitter from the pump. ‘What did you need her for?’
Mae explained about Willow’s situation and her own sudden vacancy.
‘You’d better get off now then.’ Corinne placed the filled glass on the bar and accepted the money from her customer, thanking him before turning back to Mae. ‘Hurry, before you miss her. You don’t know how long she’ll be hanging around this shop for. If she leaves, you might not find her again and then you’ll both be screwed.’
‘I can’t leave now.’ Mae looked at the clock again. She still had a couple of hours left of her shift.
‘You can.’ Corinne tapped at the till and plonked the coins into the tray. ‘I’m the boss and what I say goes. So go.’
‘But…’
Corinne held up a silencing finger. ‘We’ll be fine, honestly. And think of that poor woman having to kip in a bloody tent on her own. Think of the cold, the spiders.’ She shuddered. ‘Plus, you’ll be losing out on money if you leave that room empty. Think of Hannah – your granny would never forgive me if I let her great-grandchild starve.’
‘I hardly think Hannah is going to starve,’ Mae started to protest, but Corinne was already guiding her out of the pub and pressing her handbag into her hands.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Corinne said as she nudged Mae towards her car. ‘Frank says you’re letting us have Hannah for the day. You’re not down on the rota so we’ll pick her up from yours in the morning, give you a bit of time to yourself.’
‘You don’t have to do that,’ Mae said, but Corinne rolled her eyes.
‘No, we don’t have to, but we don’t get the chance to spoil our goddaughter often enough.’
‘You spoil us both too much,’ Mae said, but Corinne gave a dismissive wave of her hand.
‘Nonsense.’ She reached up on her tiptoes to kiss Mae on the cheek. ‘Now, go on, before it’s too late.’
Mae knew Frank and Corinne didn’t necessarily need her help in the bar as much as they claimed to, that the offer of the job at the Fisherman had been nothing less than a charitable act. They’d have simply handed over a sum of money every month to help her out if Mae hadn’t been too proud to accept it, but at least with the bar work she could feel independent. She hadn’t returned to Clifton-on-Sea to sponge off her loved ones, though she knew she was incredibly lucky to have the support of her mum, Frank and Corinne.
Climbing into her car, she blew a kiss through the window and headed towards the station, hoping it wasn’t too late for either her or Willow.
Thorpe Lane was short and narrow, with a row of little cottages on one side of the cobbled road and a row of shops on the opposite side. Just six houses and six shops made up the lane, but even if the lane had stretched further across the town, Willow and her shop wouldn’t have been too difficult to spot. You could hardly miss the rowing boat, which had been stripped and polished and now appeared to contain a custom-made mattress, being lugged from the shop to a waiting van squeezed between the two pavements. Willow was at one end, her head poking around the side to guide the boat towards the van, with a couple of blokes taking up the opposite end and the middle. Together, the trio staggered from the shop, with Willow calling out directions.
‘Do you need a hand?’ Mae asked as she climbed out of her car and scurried towards the rowing boat party.
‘From you?’ one of the blokes asked before snorting unattractively. ‘No offence, love, but we wouldn’t want you breaking a nail.’
Mae looked down at her hands, fingers splayed and nails facing upwards. The pillar-box red was stark against her pale skin, but she wasn’t about to apologise for painting her nails. These nails never got in the way when she was changing barrels at the pub, and if one did happen to break or chip, it was no big deal. She liked to make an effort with her appearance, but she had no qualms about rolling up her sleeves and getting stuck into a task.
‘Take no notice of this plonker,’ Willow said between puffs and groans as she navigated the kerb. ‘We’d love a hand, thank you.’
‘Plonker?’ the bloke spluttered, either through indignation or the fact he was manoeuvring a rowing boat through the street.