'He did? You think he's testing the water before he asks you to move there with him? What did you say?'
'I didn't think when he asked it. I think I said something along the lines of "Hell, no," then I realised he might have been seeing how I felt and I'd just completely shot him down.'
'Would you move there?'
'I love him, Georgie, like crazy "I want to scream his name from the rooftops" love him, but even for him … ' I took a deep breath as I admitted it to myself for the first time. 'No, I don't want to live in New York. I love the peace and quiet too much. I'm a country girl at heart, I always will be. There's Sumo to consider, and my best friend who needs me as much as I need her.' I flashed her a smile, which she returned. 'The Joneses too, then all of the memories of Dad here. But Miller's business is over there. He's not going to move to a sleepy village like Dilbury. It's hardly the commercial capital of Shropshire, let alone England.'
'Well, selfishly I'm happy to hear you're staying put, but keep an open mind. Maybe one day you'll want a new adventure, and we'll be friends wherever you live. I'm not that easy to shake off. Besides, "trout pout" Abbie has been laid to rest. I haven't seen you looking so happy since I met you.'
'I'll give you "trout pout,"' I scoffed, as I bent down to scoop a load of seawater in my hands and chucked it at her. She shrieked and splashed me back, so I started kicking water in her direction and she retaliated until we were both soaked and laughing so hard we were crying. 'Come on, I need to sit down and dry off, and I'm starving.'
We linked arms as we headed back to the old couple. David's head had flopped back, his mouth ajar as he snored like a steam locomotive. Daphne had her half-moon glasses on, looking like Professor McGonagall from Harry Potter, as she knitted a tiny, brightly coloured striped jumper.
'What are you making?' I asked.
'A jumper for Mr. Sumo,' she smiled, peering at me over the top of her glasses as we sat cross-legged on the picnic blanket in front of her. 'He's going to feel the cold even more this winter, now that he's not very well.'
'You're so good to me, Daphne.'
'Nonsense. You and Georgie are so good to David and me. You're young, you should be out having fun, not taking us old fogies on beach trips, cooking us Sunday dinners, doing our shopping and heavy lifting.'
'We don't mind,' Georgie said, and I shook my head in agreement. 'You're as good as family to Abbie, and I know I haven't known you that long, but you feel like it to me, too.'
'Don't make an old lady cry, girls,' she moaned, putting her knitting down in her lap. 'What say we wake up the old codger and have something to eat? I'm feeling a bit peckish.'
'Me too,' I agreed. 'Has he always snored so loudly?'
'It started when he hit forty. Trust me, it's all downhill from there. One minute he went like a locomotive, the next he was snoring like one.' She smiled as we burst out laughing.
'Gosh, as Miller's just hit thirty, I've only got ten more years of steam left in him then. I'd better make the most of it.'
'It's about time you thought about settling down and starting a family, Abbie Carter,' Daphne warned with a pointed look at me, before she turned to shake David's arm. He jumped in his seat, a startled grunt erupting that had all three of us giggling like schoolgirls.
We were chatting away, eating our picnic of delicatessen meats and cheeses, along with nice pâté on crusty bread, when I gasped in horror as a stream of seagull poo fell from the sky and landed on the peak of David's cap. It was the consistency of warm, runny icing, in shades of grey and white, and just as he parted his lips to push a morsel of the loaded bread into his mouth, a dollop of poo slithered over the edge of his cap and landed straight on the pâté. He shoved it in and started chewing before I had a chance to do anything to stop him. I froze mid-conversation as my jaw dropped, waiting for some kind of reaction from him to it, but he swallowed it down and smacked his lips.
'Where did you get that pâté again, Abbie? Best I've ever had, real creamy texture to it, isn't it.'
I sucked my lips into my mouth, clamping down on them furiously as I tried to hold in my laughter.
'You think, David? Personally I thought it was a bit shitty,' Georgie giggled next to me. I shot her a look as she put her head down, her shoulders shaking, and I couldn't keep it in any longer. I roared with laughter and fell backwards onto the picnic blanket, clutching my sides. Georgie's laughter, interspersed with her one flaw, a loud piggy-like snort every few gasps for air, made me laugh even harder.
'Youngsters. I don't get them, nothing shitty about that pâté at all,' I heard David mutter in the background, Daphne agreeing, as Georgie collapsed next to me, crying so hard her mascara was running down her cheeks.
'Oh my God,' she moaned under her breath after we'd tried to compose ourselves. 'I nearly died, and the look on your face was priceless.'
'If he dies from bird flu, you won't be laughing so hard!'
'Bird flu! Stop it, my sides are hurting.'
'I'm serious. It's a well-known fact that eating bird shit transmits bird flu in humans.'
'I never heard that before. You're a mine of information, Abbie Carter,' she exclaimed.
'And you're so gullible,' I teased.
'Gullible, ha-ha, nicely punned. So it's not true? Flu from poo?'
'Honestly, I've no idea,' I giggled, trying to pull myself together. 'We should get him checked at the hospital, right? It can't be good for you to eat poop.'
'I don't know, I was fed shit for the last year of my engagement and I'm doing ok,' she winked.
'Yes, you are, aren't you?' I beamed, flashing her a wide smile. 'It will be time to get you out dating soon. You're too fabulous to stay single, Georgie Basset. But seriously, we should get him checked over, right?'
'Stop flapping,' she winked. 'You could always ring the hospital, tell them what happened and ask if it's tweetable.'
'Stop it,' I laughed, batting her shoulder as she started giggling again. I sat up, avoiding eye contact with the Joneses as I rummaged in my bag for my phone, and excused myself to call the hospital for some advice. I was soon reassured to hear that unless he became sick in the next twenty-four hours, he should be fine.
'I'm home,' I called.
'Stay in the hall,' Miller yelled.
'Oh no, what did he do?' I groaned. 'I've had my fill of poo-related disasters today.'
'What?' Miller asked as he appeared in the kitchen doorway, looking delectable in a pair of knee-length, dark indigo denim shorts, some flip flops, and a white t-shirt, which showed off his gym-buffed body and bronzed skin. My God, what did this man see in me? I was a hot, sticky mess from the journey home, and had salt stains on my shorts and t-shirt from splashing about in the sea.
'Don't ask. Is he ok?' I looked up at Miller as he put his arms around my waist and dipped his head to leave me breathless with a soft, deep kiss.
'He's fine, happy as a … what's the phrase?'
'Pig in muck,' I smiled, wondering if my poo-related day would ever end. 'So why am I out here in the hall?'
'I have a surprise for you,' he grinned, then reached behind him to pull out a dark grey tie.
'Oooh, hello, Mr. Grey,' I giggled.
'What?'
'Maybe you should read a book now and then instead of playing video games.'
'Designing and testing,' he protested.
'Hmmm, right, boys and their toys.'
'There has to be some perks to owning a global corporation,' he smirked, planting a quick kiss on my lips again. 'Now turn around and do as you're told.'
'Yes, sir. You're so Mr. Grey right now and you have no idea!'
I let him blindfold me, then he spun me around and around until I begged him to stop when I started feeling giddy. I had no idea which way was up, let alone my left from my right or what direction he was gently pushing me in.
'Ok, there's a step down here, take my hands,' he ordered, as I felt him squeeze past to get in front of me. I deduced that we'd gone outside onto the patio from the feel of the late evening sun and breeze on my face, and the solidness under my feet from the hard surface I was walking on. 'Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them,' he warned as he forced me to stop, then positioned me.
He made me jump when he did a shrill wolf-whistle. I twisted my head left and right, trying to see if I could hear anything. It wasn't my birthday yet, so I was pretty sure there wasn't a patio full of guests about to shout, "Surprise!" at me and give me an early coronary. 'Sumo?' I whispered, as I heard the unmistakable sound of the dog flap in the back door clatter. He was snuffling and grunting so loudly, just like he used to do when Dad got him overexcited. I could just picture his fat little butt wagging from side to side.
'Stay, boy, just like we practiced all afternoon,' Miller warned as he pulled the tie off over my head. 'Ok, open your eyes, baby.'
I did slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the light, and my heart warmed to see Sumo doing exactly what I thought he'd be doing as he stood on the doorstep, with a super-cute red baseball cap on his head and a red and white checked scarf tied around his neck. I hadn't seen him so excited in years, not even with Miller, not since Dad had died. He started bouncing; his front paws lifting off the ground and then dropping as he let out a few uncharacteristic barks. Then the tears in my eyes started to form as I heard an unmistakable noise. A sound that took me straight back to my childhood. The rattle of train wheels on a track. I spun around, my hand over my mouth to see Dad's prized, electrically powered fake steam engine chugging up the garden towards us, Sumo's carriage hooked on behind it. I shook my head in disbelief, for once words failing me as I turned to watch it curve around the top of the garden, pass the back of the house, then gently draw to a stop opposite Sumo.