Christmas at the Beach Cafe(21)

‘Tabloid scum!’

‘Get back to the gutter where you belong!’

‘Leave our girls alone!’

Splat! Splat! Splat!

Knowing he was beaten, the photographer turned and ran, slithering back up the path precariously in his shiny shoes without a backward glance. I actually felt quite sorry for him, especially when he slipped and fell into a snowdrift and everyone jeered and hooted with laughter.

I turned and looked at Amber, whose eyes were bright. There was more colour in her cheeks than I’d seen in days. ‘Now that’s what I call a masterclass in dealing with the paparazzi,’ she said. ‘Brilliant!’

‘And did you hear that “Leave our girls alone”?’ I asked, slipping my arm through hers. ‘I love that. Totally warmed the cockles of my heart.’

Lindsey marched over in her leopardskin wellies and hugged me, then Amber. ‘If he comes back round here, we’ll see him off,’ she assured us. ‘And any others that chance their luck in Carrawen, too. Nasty little shitbags, the lot of them.’

‘Thank you,’Amber said. ‘Very much.’ She grinned. ‘Well, I know where to send the next bloke who annoys me, that’s for sure.’

‘Amen to that,’ I agreed.





Chapter Seven




Later on, when we were snowballed out, with virtually no feeling left in our extremities, Ed, Amber, Jake and I tramped back inside the café and turned the heating up to its maximum. We peeled off our wet clothes and draped them over all the radiators in the flat, then Ed got to work whizzing up some spicy vegetable soup for lunch, while I made everyone huge mugs of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and grated chocolate on top.

After lunch, I was at the sink, washing the soup pan, when I saw through the window that a silver Golf was crawling down the snow-covered road from the village towards the café. Paranoid that it was going to be another reporter, I wiped the steam from the window so as to get a better look . . . just as the car lost control and made an inelegant skid all the way into the café’s back yard. The Golf missed my Panda by inches, but crunched straight into the small wall of the brick enclosure that housed the bins, making sizable crumples in the bonnet.

‘Oh shit,’ I said. ‘Someone’s just crashed into – ’

Then I stopped, recognizing the car. And stared, recognizing the people in the front seats. ‘No way,’ I murmured. ‘I’m losing the plot now.’

‘What’s up? What was that bang?’ Amber asked, coming to see. Then she gasped. ‘Is that your parents?’

‘Looks like it,’ I said, still staring. What were they doing here?

‘I didn’t know they were coming to stay,’ Amber said, puzzled.

‘Neither did I,’ I replied. ‘God knows what they’re up to. I only spoke to my mum last night and she didn’t say anything about coming down. Why on earth would they drive through snow blizzards from Oxford just days before Christmas, unless . . . ?’ Oh no. Now I was panicking. ‘Unless something terrible has happened,’ I said, with a gulp.

I shoved on my wellies again – ugh, they were still wet and cold at the bottom – and pulled on my coat, dimly remembering all those texts that had come through on my phone earlier: Mum, Louise, Ruth. I’d been in such a rush to get out in the snow that I had forgotten to even look at them. Maybe the texts weren’t all bare-bum-related scoldings, as I’d assumed.

I dashed out the back door and slithered down the steps into the yard, desperate to find out what was going on.

‘Hi!’ I cried anxiously. My dad was already out of the car, inspecting the newly corrugated appearance of his bonnet, while my mum was opening the passenger door, a squirming Monty in her arms. ‘Is everything okay? I wasn’t expecting to see you.’

My mum beamed and waved. ‘Surprise!’ she called gaily.

Well, I was surprised all right. ‘Are you – what – I don’t understand,’ I confessed.

My dad gave me a hug. ‘Hello, love,’ he said. ‘Will you look at that. We got all the way here, no problem – last ten yards, crash. Bloody typical, that is. Never mind, though. We’re here now.’

‘Yep,’ I said, still none the wiser. ‘You certainly are.’

‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Mum said. ‘You just sounded so down last night on the phone. I couldn’t bear the thought of you being lonely at Christmas without the family, so it was rather a spur of the moment decision. I thought, I won’t ring, she’ll only get in a flap about food and whatnot – so we’ve just brought everything with us. Bedding and pillows, as well as our Christmas cake and an extra turkey, oh, and a trifle, although it might be all over the inside of the boot now, after that little crash. I did tell your father to go slow on that bend, but would he listen?’