An A To Z Of Love. Sophie Pembroke

fridge and wondered why there had been no portents in the sky that morning about just how bad this day was going to be.

      Becky.

      The woman who was supposed to be the love of his life. The very reason he was battling to stay in business in Aberarian. The reason he owned a house that could have fallen down by now, it had been so long since he’d visited it.

      And now she wanted to talk. Fantastic.

      He’d thought they’d said everything they could possibly need to, the night before she left. They’d talked about the job offer from Tony, about how she didn’t feel the same ‘home’ feeling she’d expected when they moved to Aberarian. She’d told him that maybe it wasn’t time for her to be there yet, whatever that meant.

      Charlie had known what she was really saying, though. It wasn’t Aberarian that couldn’t live up to her expectations – it was him. He’d asked her to stay, to give them a real chance at the future they’d dreamt of together.

      And when he’d woken up the next morning, she was gone.

      Really, what else was there to say?

      ‘Are they still out there?’ he asked when Magda returned to the kitchen, plates in hand. In forty-five minutes, Becky and Ditsy had only managed starters and two bread baskets. Charlie was starting to worry it would be dinnertime before they finished lunch.

      ‘Still deciding on main courses,’ Magda confirmed. ‘And waiting on more drinks. She also wanted me to ask you, and I quote, “Why you’re not using the darling water jugs and glasses we sourced from that charming glassblower down the coast.”’

      Charlie shut his eyes and pretended he couldn’t hear Becky saying those words in his head. She’d want to make it clear to Magda exactly who she was, of course, without having to come out and say it. She’d assume, rightly, he wouldn’t have told the young Polish girl about his humiliating abandonment, so all she needed to do was make it obvious she had been there first, that she had history with him. Just enough to warn Magda off, in case she was getting any ideas.

      Except the only ideas Magda would be getting were about her crazy boss hiding in the kitchen and when to call in the mental health professionals.

      ‘What are they talking about, anyway?’ Charlie asked. ‘What can possibly be taking this long?’ He couldn’t ignore the niggling part of his brain that kept asking, if Becky wanted to talk with him so much, why was she spending hours chatting with Ditsy instead? She’d never seemed to have much time for long conversations with her aunt before.

      Maybe she’d changed. Maybe she wanted to come home now, and live the future she’d always dreamt of.

      Charlie wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that.

      ‘Well, you know I don’t like to eavesdrop on the customers,’ Magda lied, ‘but I did happen to overhear…’

      Charlie decided this wasn’t the occasion for a lecture on professional ethics. He needed to know why Becky was back, before she blindsided him. ‘What?’

      ‘She’s here on business. Apparently her company has got some plan for something in Aberarian, and she’s heading up the project with her boss.’ Magda paused, seeming uncertain about whether to add the next bit. ‘From what she said to Ditsy, it sounds like she’s planning on hanging around.’

      Charlie banged his head on the fridge door as he stood up. ‘Why on earth would she… Wait. So she’s not here to…’

      ‘To win you back? Not so far as I can tell,’ Magda said, smirking.

      ‘I was going to say, “make my life a misery,”’ Charlie lied. Work. She’d come back here for work. Of course she had.

      ‘Oh, well. I wouldn’t rule it out.’

      Charlie checked his watch. Two o’clock. Still prime late-lunch time. No escape just yet.

      ‘I need to talk to Mia,’ he said. Mia would make sense of it all for him. She always did. Even if she and Becky didn’t have the best history, Mia would listen and talk it through and understand.

      That, Charlie decided, was why he and Mia were so good as friends. She never drove him crazy the way girlfriends always had.

      ‘And I need to get their drinks.’ Magda moved towards the doors out to the bar. ‘Are you going to sneak out the back like a little girl, or are you going to face up to the woman like a man?’

      Charlie thought about it. ‘What are my chances, do you think?’

      ‘She’ll hunt you down, my friend. I’ve seen that sort of look in a woman’s eyes before. You’d be better off getting it over and done with.’

      ‘You’re right,’ Charlie said with a sigh. Then he considered. ‘But I’ll just wait until they’ve finished their meals. And post-lunch liqueurs.’ Becky was always more pliant and considerate after alcohol.

      ‘Maybe wait until they’ve paid the bill too,’ Magda suggested, pushing open the doors. ‘Just in case.’

      Charlie groaned and yanked the fridge open again.

      * * * *

      Once they’d finished their drinks, Tony dragged them out of the Crooked Fox and down Water Street, which meant it was only when she was standing outside StarFish that Mia had a moment to wonder what Charlie would make of her having a lunch date.

      Which was ridiculous, of course, because what did Charlie care who she had lunch with? He probably wouldn’t even notice if Tony kissed her over the bread basket.

      Not that she thought he was going to, or anything.

      Tony was, at present, far more interested in the menu hanging beside the door. ‘Doesn’t look bad,’ he said, sounding surprised. ‘Come on, then.’

      Once inside, any concern Mia might have felt about Charlie’s feelings melted away at the sight of Ditsy and Becky sitting together. And any thoughts she’d had about kissing Tony followed shortly afterward, when Tony headed directly to their table and said, ‘There you are, Bex. Mia, let me introduce you to my colleague, Becky Thrower.’

      Becky Thrower. Back again like the proverbial bad penny. Or bad credit card, maybe, given the designer suit and glossy, perfectly styled hair. Mia bit the inside of her cheek, concentrating on the perfect cutting comebacks for whatever jibes Becky chose to throw in her direction this time. She wasn’t a teenager any more. She could handle Becky.

      But could Charlie?

      She looked up to see him hovering in the open kitchen doors looking guilty, although Mia couldn’t quite figure out why. Stupidity, perhaps, for letting Becky into StarFish in the first place. At the table – and Ditsy better not think she wasn’t going to ask what the secret society social they’d got going on was all about – Ditsy was making expressive yet indecipherable eyebrow movements at Mia from behind Becky. Mia figured it was easier just to ask later, when there were less satanic goings-on to deal with.

      ‘Oh, Mia and I are old friends,’ Becky said with a tinkling laugh at the end.

      If she included the first fourteen years of their lives in Aberarian, when they’d been inseparable best friends, perhaps. Personally, Mia tended to remember the following four years, after her father left, when Becky and her new friends had made life unbearable for her until she went to university.

      Becky, however, obviously had a different recollection of events.

      ‘It’s so wonderful to see you again!’ Becky scampered out from behind the table and gave Mia one of those hugs where she didn’t need to touch her, and Mia refrained from slugging her because it wouldn’t look good for Charlie’s restaurant. ‘You’re just the person we need.’

      ‘Need?’ That sounded ominous. ‘For what?’

      Becky shooed her over to an empty seat at the table, and Mia eyed Ditsy for some clue to what