Linda Mitchelmore

The Little B & B at Cove End


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and a T-shirt two sizes too small and most of the girls in her class did at the weekends, like they were in a team or something. Mae didn’t know she wanted to be part of any sort of team.

      ‘It’s what godmothers are supposed to do – toe the moral line. That’s the whole point of being one,’ Josh said, dragging Mae’s wandering mind back to the present. She thought she’d been thinking less about her dad lately, but somehow it was the other way round.

      ‘Yeah, but I still think she was out of order. We’re not even related. She’s just Mum’s friend from way back. And then there’s the fact she’s a bit of a slapper is Rosie. Two divorces, three live-in lovers – what sort of moral guidance is that?’

      ‘It’s life, Mae. And neither of the divorces might have been her fault. And has anyone ever told you that you’re very beautiful when you’re cross?’

      ‘That line’s got whiskers on it,’ Mae said, but she was glad Josh had said it all the same. And she knew she was probably boring him to death carping on and on about Rosie, who Josh hadn’t even met. She should stop. She’d try.

      ‘Comes from being an old granddad,’ Josh said, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkling deliciously as he smiled. How dark his eyes were – 90% cocoa solids chocolate or something – and how Mae loved looking into them. ‘Shall we go and get that wine?’ Josh said as he unlocked the car door.

      ‘Yeah,’ Mae said, ‘I might die of thirst if we don’t!’

      ‘A vicar’s son, a murderer? That would never do!’ Josh said. He opened the door for Mae to get in, handing her the seatbelt. God, but how chivalrous. How very grown up it made her feel.

      Mae stood on tiptoe and lifted her face up to Josh for a kiss. When his lips came down on hers, she got a brief whiff of alcohol. Not beer. Not wine. Spirits maybe, definitely alcohol. Had he been drinking already? A glass of something with dinner, which she knew a lot of people were in the habit of having? Whatever, he was far from drunk, not even tipsy. But Mae thought it best not to ask as their lips met.

      They were soon at the corner shop on the road out of the village. Josh took no time at all choosing a bottle of wine. Pinot Grigio. And a bag of crisps. They joined the end of a small queue, and Mae was amazed to see she knew no one in it. At least no one who would tell her mum she was buying wine with Josh Maynard.

      But her relief was short-lived.

      ‘Well, well, well,’ a voice behind them said. ‘If it isn’t our local baby-snatcher.’

      ‘Shove off, Bailey,’ Mae said, not bothering to turn around.

      She and Bailey Lucas had been at infant school together, and now at senior school as well, although Mae was in a higher tutor group. About six months ago, Mae and Bailey had gone out a couple of times: to the cinema once, and to drink endless glasses of coke in the Oystercatcher Café. They hadn’t even got to the hand-holding stage, never mind kissing or anything else. And then Josh had asked her out and, well, she hadn’t even bothered to tell Bailey she didn’t want to go out with him again – she’d just stopped answering his texts and he’d got the message in the end. She wasn’t proud of that now, but it was done and dusted. Josh had taken her to the cinema on their first date and they’d snogged their faces off in the back row. Her lips had been red raw when she got home, and she’d slathered on Savlon before she went to sleep in the hope her mother wouldn’t notice in the morning. She’d moved on. She wished Bailey would too. He wasn’t a bad bloke – just a bit boring, especially compared to Josh.

      ‘You heard her, Lucas,’ Josh said. ‘Shove off.’

      ‘When I’m ready,’ Bailey said. ‘And not before.’

      A frisson of unease rippled, cold, across Mae’s shoulders. Bailey took a step closer to Josh, squaring up to him. Josh was tall – just under six feet – but Bailey was taller by a good couple of inches. Thicker set too. He was easily the tallest boy in their year.

      ‘You just mind how you treat her, Maynard,’ Bailey said. ‘That’s all.’

      ‘Explain yourself,’ Josh said.

      He let go of Mae’s hand. Her right one. Surely he wasn’t going to throw a punch at Bailey here? There were two people in the queue in front of them – chattering away for England so Mae didn’t think they’d heard the threatening exchange. She glanced towards the counter where Meg Smythson was rapidly scanning the contents of a customer’s basket.

      ‘In case you need reminding,’ Bailey said, ‘you did the dirty on my sister, Xia. More than once from what I’ve heard.’

      ‘None of your business,’ Josh said. He turned to Mae. ‘Ignore him.’ He put an arm around Mae’s shoulder and swivelled her round to turn their backs to Bailey. He leaned in and whispered in her ear. ‘He’s just jealous.’

      Mae hadn’t told Josh she’d been out with Bailey a couple of times, but in this place she probably didn’t need to – everyone seemed to know about everyone else or who knew someone who did.

      ‘Jealousy is a totally useless trait,’ Bailey said, coming closer – so close Mae felt his warm breath on her neck.

      Mae turned around to face Bailey.

      ‘Back off, Bailey,’ she said. ‘Please. I’m sorry I didn’t answer your texts if that’s what’s troubling you. Okay?’

      This was getting uncomfortable now and they were no nearer the counter than they were when they came in. Meg Smythson was looking their way now, forehead furrowed with puzzle lines as though she was sensing trouble brewing in her shop.

      Bailey shrugged.

      ‘You heard her,’ Josh said, his voice low. ‘Back off before I make you back off.’

      Bailey stepped back a few paces.

      ‘Let’s just say, Mae, if you get any bother you know where to find me.’

      ‘Your knight in shining armour, Mae,’ Josh laughed, leaning closer to Mae.

      ‘Who I won’t need,’ she said, catching a whiff of Josh’s slightly alcoholic breath again.

      This was all turning into some sort of old-fashioned film scenario, with two men fighting over her – it was sort of flattering really in a strange way. She felt a bit princessy. And there he was – her dad back again in her mind because he’d always called her his little princess.

      Mae smoothed her hands down over the roses on the 1950s full-skirted dress, a lump in her throat … remembering.

      ‘But if you do, Mae,’ Bailey said, ‘the offer still stands.’

      Mae wondered what sort of terrible time Bailey’s sister might have had with Josh. Two-timing wasn’t the best way to go about things, but hadn’t she done it herself when she’d been sort of going out with Bailey and not told him she didn’t want to see him any more before starting to go out with Josh?

      ‘Ignore him,’ Josh whispered. ‘He’s not worth brain space.’

      Mae nodded – too full up to speak.

      It was their turn to be served.

      ‘Sorry about the wait,’ Meg Smython said.

      Josh placed the bottle of wine on the counter and Meg Smythson reached for it, and the scanner beeped loudly as she ran it through. The crisps followed.

      Josh reached for the wine, but Meg got there first, grabbing it firmly at the base and pulling it back towards her.

      ‘Buying wine for a minor is an offence,’ Meg said. ‘But I don’t need to tell you that, Josh, do I?’

      ‘I’m fairly conversant with the law on that matter, Mrs Smythson,’ Josh said.

      Conversant? Mae suppressed a giggle – Josh sounded so much older than his twenty years saying that. It made her giggle.

      ‘Something