Christmas at the Beach Cafe(9)

I quickly ruled out an entire swathe of home-made present ideas. Cooking – no way. Sewing – ditto. Painting – I wish. But photography . . . yes. I could take a great photo. Maybe one of the bay at sunrise. Or a shot from the cliff. Or . . .

My memory was jogged by the list of ‘Ed’s favourite things’ that I’d recited to the ladies at our recent Girls’ Night In. Surfing. Coffee. Seeing the sun rise, I’d told them. A glass of wine at the end of the day. The view from the cliffs out over the bay. Me . . .

And then it came to me. The perfect, perfect present. Bingo!

‘Yes!’ I cried, jumping to my feet. ‘Genius.’

Ed gave me a quizzical look as I hurried out of the room. ‘Now what?’ he called after me.

‘Nothing!’ I sang irritatingly. I went into our bedroom, wondering where I’d last seen my laptop, just as the phone started ringing again.

‘Hello?’ I asked, trying to hide my impatience as I picked it up.

‘Hi love, it’s me, Mum, just calling for a quick chat.’

‘Oh,’ I said, rather ungraciously, and sank down onto the bed. My mum didn’t know the meaning of the words ‘quick chat’. Now I’d be stuck here for half an hour while she regaled me with all the dramatic (not) ins and outs of her and Dad’s lives, no doubt including a full round-up of news concerning Monty, their Yorkshire terrier. I wouldn’t have minded normally – I often got on with something else, like sorting laundry or reading a book, while she was in full flow – but tonight I was itching to get cracking on my fantastic present idea. ‘How are you?’

I’d obviously set off the Concerned Parent radar with my less than enthusiastic response. ‘Are you okay, love? You sound a bit flat,’ my mum said suspiciously. ‘What’s up?’

‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘Just tired, that’s all.’

‘Not catching a chill, are you?’ she asked. ‘Because I know how cold it gets in Carrawen, the wind howling down the dunes. I used to worry about you girls when you were little and we were there in the winter, because – ’

‘I’m fine, Mum,’ I said again. ‘We’ve just had the boiler serviced so we’re lovely and toasty. Honestly.’

‘Not too lonely, then? I did wonder how you’d find it when all the tourists had left town. Beaches can be quite desolate places in the winter, especially where you are, cut off from everyone else.’

‘No, it’s great,’ I put in quickly. ‘I’m enjoying it. Anyway, how . . .’

She was not about to be distracted that easily. ‘Well, I hope you haven’t been working too hard,’ she said, talking over me. ‘Because if it gets too much for you, you know you’re welcome to come up and stay with us in Oxford, any time. Me and your dad will look after you, so you can recharge your batteries.’

‘Mum, it’s fine, honestly,’ I told her, verging on desperation. She was so convinced that I was in the grip of some terrible angst or other that it was impossible to stop her. ‘Everything’s absolutely . . . fine.’

‘Only I know how much you love Christmas, and you don’t sound very Christmassy, that’s all,’ she continued, and then went on in this vein for several minutes, until I pointed out (with some relief ) that I could hear her doorbell ringing and shouldn’t she go and answer it?

‘It’s not ringing,’ she replied, confused. ‘Who’d be ringing my doorbell when it’s gone nine o’clock at night? It’s not your dad, he’s watching QI in the lounge.’

The ringing came again, followed by Ed’s voice. ‘I’ll get it!’

‘Oh,’ I said dumbly into the receiver. ‘It’s my bell. I wasn’t expecting anyone.’

‘I’ll let you go,’ she said. ‘I know you’re busy. Remember what I said, won’t you? You’re always welcome here.’

‘Thanks, Mum.’

Downstairs in the café, I could hear the front door being opened . . . and then loud exclamations. ‘Oh my God! What are you doing here?’





Chapter Four




I dumped the phone and hurried down to the café to see who it was . . . only to be faced with an unfamiliar tanned guy with the same wide smile and grey eyes as Ed.

‘Evie!’ Ed cried excitedly as he noticed me. ‘Meet Jake, my brother. He’s been in Thailand for . . . what? Eight months?’

‘Something like that,’ Jake said. Weird. He even had a similar voice to Ed. I couldn’t stop staring at him.

‘I didn’t even know you were back in the UK,’ Ed said, slapping Jake on the back. ‘Oh, mate. Good to see you. I can’t believe you’re here!’