The Little Book Café

Kit shrugged. ‘I’m a private kind of a person. Mum is too. I bought the winning ticket but gave it to her for a birthday present. She persuaded me to buy the farm with the half she gave me. It was great at first. Then we got the piles of begging letters. Some were obviously fake but most were genuine. Mum decided to donate what she could but couldn’t cope. So we shut the doors and decided not to tell anyone.’ Kit picked a grass seed out of Merlin’s coat, frowning. ‘Money changes how people react to you. Not always for the better. Not that I’m complaining though. Mum’s got a nice home, I get to do what I’ve always wanted to. Have a bit of land, a few animals. Thinking about what to do next.’

‘What were you before you won?’ Tash was agog. She’d never met a big-time lottery winner before. She wondered how much money was involved but it seemed rude to ask.

‘That’s the other secret.’ Kit gave an impish grin. ‘I was a dentist.’ He shrugged. ‘Not sure which is the more unpopular. Estate agent. Dentist. The two most loathed professions.’

Tash roared. She hadn’t laughed so much in ages. When she’d calmed down, she said, ‘Dentists, estate agents, we get some real stick, don’t we?’ She looked at him properly, for the first time. Still no better looking, she decided, but she couldn’t deny he was sexy. With his shabby beanie hat and scrubby stubble she couldn’t imagine a less likely dentist, though. She said as much.

‘Oh, I agree,’ he said, affably. ‘I enjoyed it while I did it but the hours were epic and I was stuck in a surgery all day looking down people’s throats.’ He grinned. ‘I was glad to get out of it. Much prefer the fresh air and freedom.’

‘So now you spend your day with animals instead. At least you’ll know what to do if one of the donkeys has toothache.’

‘Ha ha. As far as I know, animal dentistry is a whole other ball game. And if anyone had walked in to my surgery with teeth like a donkey, I think I would have run. Speaking of which—’ he glanced at his watch ‘—that’s what I have to do now. It’s getting too hot for Merlin and I’ve got the donkeys to muck out.’

‘Now that is hard work,’ Tash agreed. ‘I used to help out at a stable when I was a horse-mad teenager. Aren’t they out to pasture at this time of the year though?’ They stood up and began to walk back to the car park.

‘Rescues,’ Kit said, as a way of explanation. ‘Someone attacked them one night and they still get spooked being out in the paddock when it’s dark. Owner couldn’t cope so I re-homed them.’ He sighed. ‘Have to stable them at the moment.’

‘That’s awful!’ Tash stopped dead and looked up at him, her mouth open in disgust. She hated any cruelty to animals.

Kit shrugged. ‘I’m trying to find ways of gradually getting them used to being outside but nothing’s working at the moment.’

‘Maybe get in touch with the donkey sanctuary over at Sidmouth?’

‘I’ll have to do that.’

As they reached what Tash assumed was his car, a dusty Freelander, she smiled at him. ‘It’s been great bumping into you.’ Giving Merlin a stroke, she added, ‘And you too, Merlin.’

‘Come over and see the farm one day.’ Kit opened the Freelander’s tailgate and the dog leaped up gracefully. ‘I’m hoping to acquire some ducks soon.’

‘How could I resist?’

‘How, indeed?’ He came to her and looked down. ‘And it’s been lovely bumping into you too, Natasha Taylor the estate agent. Come for a coffee. Mum would love to see you again.’

‘I will.’ By the time she’d persuaded a reluctant Benji to get into her car, Kit had driven off. ‘What a great start to my day off,’ she said to a completely uninterested terrier. The sun had risen in the sky and the heat in the car had built up to a suffocating level. She buzzed all the windows down. Once she’d dropped Benji off, the garden and a book beckoned. She was ready to top off her tan with Heathcliff for company. ‘A perfect day,’ she added. In her pocket her phone came to life as it got a signal. On it were fifteen texts from Adrian asking where she was and why she wasn’t answering her mobile.

Chapter 7 (#ulink_796d1975-0dd7-54c4-b74d-8ac6015dfc6d)

‘But I want to do it. I like raising money for the RNLI. I happen to think it’s important.’ Tash tried to keep the petulance out of her voice. She really couldn’t see why Adrian was so dead set against a fun run. ‘It’s for Lifeboat Month.’ She opened the kitchen door and went into the hall.

‘I know exactly what it’s for, Natasha,’ Adrian said, following her so closely she could feel his breath hot on her neck. ‘I just don’t see why you need to go out three times a week dressed like that.’

‘If I’m going to take part, I want to train for it. I don’t intend on coming in last. And, for goodness sake Adrian, what the hell do you expect me to wear to go running? A winceyette dressing gown? Of course I’ll wear my shorts. Stop being so ridiculous.’ It was the second time they’d argued about it. The last time Adrian had got round her and taken her to bed so she’d missed the training run with Emma. She needed to train; there was no way she was going to be beaten by a girl who thought a crisp sandwich was health food. Tash thought she’d gone too far with the last comment but Adrian just made what she privately termed his cat’s arse face.

‘I was going to make my special cottage pie. With cheesy potatoes.’

His voice had a whining quality that had Tash taking several deep breaths before she trusted herself to answer. ‘That would have been lovely Ade, but I need to cut my carbs if I’m going to be serious about this.’ She went into the hall and sat on the vintage pew that they’d sourced from a very expensive antiques centre in Exeter. She slipped her feet into her running shoes and began tying the laces.

His mood changed, as unpredictably as ever. ‘Serious? It’s a fun run for charity, Natasha, not the London bloody Marathon.’

Tash tried to disarm him. ‘Don’t swear Adrian. I don’t like it.’ Getting up, she faced him. The attempt at humour hadn’t worked. Out of the corner of her eye she could see her car keys hanging on the hooks by the front door. If necessary, she was sure she could grab them and be out of the door before he – she bit off the thought. What did she think he was going to do? Hit her? No. He’d never do that. He loved her.

He took a step towards her. His eyes bulged a little and he’d broken out into a clammy sweat.

Tash sucked in a sharp breath as his hand fisted to white knuckles. Her fingers inched towards her keys. Then she saw his shoulders relax and the tension splintered.

‘I just don’t understand why you don’t want to spend any time with me nowadays.’ His voice had gone back to wheedling. ‘You’re either at work late, off at this book club or out running.’ He reached out a hand and stroked her bare arm. Tash willed herself not to flinch. ‘Why not spend the evening with me. Nice bottle of white in the garden. We could go through those conservatory catalogues. You’ve always wanted a conservatory. Natasha, it’s too hot to go running.’

‘But I want to. It’s important to me. For lots of reasons, Adrian. Not just the fun run but to get fitter too. I had to use an elastic band to fasten my work skirt this morning. I need to lose a few pounds.’ She warmed to her theme as he seemed to be taking it calmly. ‘And I enjoy my job, I want to do well. Like yours, it’s not nine to five and that’s one reason I love it. For the variety.’ She put her head on one side, her pulse calming as he’d shown no reaction. ‘And, the book club? Really? I’ve been once so far. We both work hard. We both play hard. I seem to remember that was what you liked about me when we met. Both ambitious, you said.’

‘We are.’ He took her hand. ‘And yes, I did love that about you. Still do, Natasha. I can’t help it,’ he sighed. ‘You’re just so gorgeous, you make me want to spend all my time with you. I love you so very much.’ His hand sneaked around her waist and he pulled her to him. He kissed her, backing her into the mirror on the wall. Tash’s head banged against it. She used to find his roughness sexy. Took it as a sign of his passion. He trailed a kiss across to her collarbone and fisted a hand into her hair, holding her prisoner. ‘We could have a baby, Natasha,’ he murmured throatily. ‘We could make a baby tonight. If you had a baby to look after, you wouldn’t have time for running.’

Finding all the strength she had, she pushed him off. ‘Not that again, Ade.’ She looked into his lust-blurred eyes. ‘It’s not the right time for me. Not now.’ She saw a tightening of his jaw. He was angry again. ‘Look, I’ll just go for a short run tonight. I’ll be back by ten. We can still have that drink in the garden.’ She’d lifted her keys and had escaped before she could gauge his reaction. Something told her she’d pay, in some way, on her return.

Chapter 8 (#ulink_02f06804-4df9-555e-adce-eec1f3f89403)

‘What are you wearing?’

Tash looked up from the office’s main computer. ‘Morning to you too, Emma. You’re late, by the way.’

‘Soz. Couldn’t shift Stevie out of the bathroom. Little bro has turned thirteen and discovered girls. And the shower. Used up all my shampoo.’

‘You need to find a place to yourself.’ Tash slumped back onto her desk chair and fanned herself. It was the beginning of another hot day and tourists were already thronging Berecombe’s main street. On her way from the car park, Tash had ducked around several suntan-anointed families heading to the beach. Pausing before unlocking the agency’s front door, she’d gazed after them wistfully, wishing her life was so carefree.

‘No argument from me there. Can I have a pay rise then?’ When Tash didn’t rise to the bait, Emma said, ‘So what are you wearing? Baggy’s never been your thing. And how long is that skirt?’ Emma twisted and peered down at Tash’s feet. ‘And flats?’ Her eyes widened. ‘The heel of your foot is never in contact with the ground!’

‘Well, it is today. Haven’t you got to put the coffee on?’

Emma flicked on her computer and got up. She went into the little kitchen and called through, as she boiled the kettle and rummaged for biscuits. ‘Not up to high heels this morning? Bit stiff after the run last night?’

‘You could say that.’ Tash was sore but not for the reasons Emma was hinting at. She’d been right, she’d had to pay for defying Adrian. And what he’d done to her in bed had made her feel demeaned. It hadn’t been even close to the erotic experience he’d promised her. But after a bottle of wine each, he’d persuaded her to let him do it. The final humiliation had been waking up to find he’d gone in early to work, leaving some clothes for her laid out in the dressing room. She’d hunted for her usual skirt suits and stilettos but they’d disappeared. In their place was the midi skirt, loose blouse and expensive-looking leather pumps that she was currently wearing. They were marginally smarter than the only other clothes left in the wardrobe.

Emma reappeared carrying two mugs of coffee. ‘Great crowd last night. Brilliant that Millie and Jed turned up although I think Amy’s going to struggle.’

Tash took her mug. ‘Well, she’s a bit of a lardy-arse.’

‘That’s so unkind, Tash! I seem to remember you weren’t all that svelte not that long ago.’

‘Yeah. And I did something about it.’

‘Well, maybe Amy is trying to as well. It’s not always easy.’

Tash bit her lip. Why was she such a cow sometimes? Because you’re unhappy, said the voice in her head. She sipped her coffee. ‘Sorry, I know it isn’t. Sorry Em,’ she repeated. ‘I’m in a foul mood this morning.’

Emma raised an eloquent eyebrow. ‘Just this morning?’

‘Point taken.’ Tash sat up straighter and took in a great gulp of breath. It was a gorgeous summer day, she lived and worked in a beautiful seaside town. She loved her job. Life was good, wasn’t it? Glancing across at Emma she wondered if she’d understand? Emma was younger by a few years and happy in what seemed a loving and uncomplicated relationship with Ollie. Did he play mind games the way Adrian did? She was about to ask when Biddy Roulestone flung herself through the door, a hot-looking poodle trailing behind her.

‘Need a house,’ she boomed unceremoniously. ‘For Arthur and me. Thinking ahead, you see.’ She tapped the side of her nose. ‘Neither of us getting any younger. Bungalow would be good. Want to release a bit of equity too. Got my sights on a silver swingers’ holiday in Lanzarote, amongst other things.’ She hmphed. ‘Can’t persuade Arthur though. Might have to leave him here with Elvis.’ The poodle, recognising his name, looked up and wagged his tail. ‘Oh,’ Biddy added. ‘Having a go at baking. Got a bit addicted to Bakeoff and thought it couldn’t be that difficult. Thought I’d have a bash.’ She slung a Tupperware box onto Emma’s desk. ‘See how you get on with my special brownies. Stick me on your property hotlist, won’t you?’ She waved as she began to leave. ‘Come on Elvis,’ she muttered to a reluctant-looking dog. ‘And, if you can find me the right house, you might have mine and Arthur’s to sell and all.’ She cackled. ‘That’ll up your commission!’