Christmas at the Beach Cafe(17)

‘What’s this? You’re writing a recipe book?’ Amber asked, before he could reply.

‘Didn’t I tell you?’ I said and explained my grand plans, deliberately not looking in Jake’s direction. ‘Unfortunately time has kind of whizzed by and we’re a bit behind schedule.’ I opened up the file on the laptop to show her. ‘Here,’ I said. ‘This is what we’ve done so far.’

She flipped through the finished pages on screen, and Jake sat next to her in order to see too. I couldn’t help but feel proud of how professional and attractive it all looked, even if I did say so myself: the photos bright and appetizing, the text clear and nicely laid out.

‘This is fab,’ Amber said, then reached the end all too soon. ‘Ahh. Is that it?’

‘’Fraid so. It’s taken a lot longer than we thought.’

‘And not helped by your boyfriend’s dreadful brother turning up and forcing you to get hammered with him every night either,’ Jake said, shooting me an amused look. You said it, I thought, giving him my fakest smile in return.

‘Well, we didn’t like to say . . .’ Ed joked, pretending to be annoyed.

‘Not to mention your best friend landing on your doorstep having a meltdown,’ Amber added, looking guilty.

‘No! Don’t be silly,’ I told her. ‘Anyway, I reckon we could get a good four or five new recipes in the bag tomorrow, if we really go for it, don’t you think, Ed? And if we keep that up, we’ll be fine for a January printing.’

‘We can help,’ Amber said at once. ‘Can’t we, Jake?’

‘You bet,’ he replied expansively. ‘Absolutely. We could even – ’

I never got to hear the end of his sentence. Nobody did. He was getting to his feet and knocked the table . . . and then we all watched in horror as the half-full bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon left over from the bourguignon toppled over as if in slow motion.

‘Whoa!’ I yelled, making a grab for it.

Too late. Red wine sloshed merrily into the keyboard, pouring through my fingers as I lunged for the bottle. A horrible fizzling sound came from the laptop, then the screen went completely blank.

‘No!’ I wailed, jabbing repeatedly at the buttons. Nothing happened.

‘Oh shit,’ Jake said. ‘Oh God. Sorry, mate. You had backed it up, hadn’t you?’

I couldn’t quite believe what had just taken place in front of my eyes. The moment kept repeating itself dizzyingly but I simply could not process it. I pressed the ‘On’ button again and again but the laptop remained unresponsive. ‘It’s dead,’ I said, feeling a wild sob building in my throat. ‘It’s completely dead.’

‘Evie?’ Amber prompted. ‘You did back it up, didn’t you?’

‘No,’ I croaked. I wasn’t sure if I was going to laugh in shocked hysteria or burst into tears. Of course I hadn’t backed it up. Because that would have been the sensible thing to do, the organized, capable, precautionary thing to do, and we all knew how stupid Evie Flynn was. ‘No, I didn’t back it up. We’ve lost it all.’

‘It might be okay when it dries out,’ Ed said, convincing no one.

‘I doubt it,’ I said sourly, ‘not with half a gallon of wine in there.’

‘I am so sorry,’ Jake said. ‘I feel terrible, Evie. I swear I’ll buy you a new one if this one is ruined.’

I wheeled round, glaring at him. ‘If it’s ruined? If ? Of course it’s bloody ruined, Jake, just like you intended.’

‘What?’ he yelped. ‘I didn’t mean to do that!’

Oh, save it for someone who believes you, I thought savagely. There was no stopping me now. ‘You’ve had it in for me ever since you got here,’ I snapped. ‘Stirring things up for me and Ed. I heard you, that first night, slagging this place off. Slagging me off! And now you’ve wrecked my laptop and the one nice thing I was trying to do for the community. Like you care though. Like you give a flying shit!’

‘Evie!’ cried Amber, eyes wide.

‘Wait!’ cried Ed as I stormed past him.

I didn’t wait. Wait for what? Jake to deny everything and pretend he didn’t have a clue what I was on about? Ed to have another go at me about being mean to his precious brother? No way. Sod that. Shaking with rage, I marched out of the kitchen, shoved my feet in my boots, then stalked down to the beach. I was so angry I could have punched Jake right in his smug face. Aaargh! I wished he’d never come here. I wished he’d just shove off back to Thailand!

It was dark and cold outside, and I could hear that the sea was wild and stormy, with great breakers lashing onto the shore. Good. It suited my mood perfectly. I felt like never going back. I wouldn’t go back, I decided, crunching over the shingle, not until Jake had packed up and gone. I hated him!