Читать книгу Summer Loves - Georgia Hill - Страница 10

Millie and Dora were sitting on the terrace of the Old Harbour Inn soaking up the last rays of sun.

‘Can’t believe we have to drink wine out of plastic cups,’ Dora moaned.

‘Health and safety,’ Millie murmured and topped up their glasses. ‘Still, the view alone makes up for it.’

She was right. the Old Harbour Inn was a little further west than the café and had views over to the beach on the other side of the harbour. It had the best view of the setting sun.

Dora sat back and inhaled the salty, vinegary, seaweedy smell of her youth. It was good to be home. ‘Do you remember when we thought an alco-pop was the height of sophistication?’

Millie giggled. ‘I think it was, back then.’ She swirled her wine around her glass before taking an appreciative sip. ‘Thank God things have changed a bit. Tessa’s really grateful for all your help, Dor.’

‘Not sure I did much but, bruises on my ducky bottom aside, I was glad to help out. Things all right between you two?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I don’t know, you just don’t seem as close as you used to be.’ Dora tapped her nose. ‘Call it actor’s intuition.’

‘Well, we had a bit of a falling-out a few months ago.’

‘I knew there was something. What happened?’

Millie explained how Tessa had agreed to supply bread to the Blue Elephant café, Millie Vanilla’s biggest rival. ‘She’s back baking for me now, when she can. Blue Elephant are making it hard for her to get out of her contract,’ Millie sighed. ‘It’s a real pain. I’m still having to get some bread from Berringtons.’

‘Ooh Berringtons,’ Dora said. ‘Remember their lardy cake? And their ham rolls were good too. Standard lunch at sixth form, I seem to recall. Don’t tell me Berringtons have gone downhill.’

‘I never understood how you ate lardy cake every day for two years without putting on an ounce.’ Millie shook her head. ‘Their bread is fine for sandwiches but, with the new menu I’ve got, I need something a little more unusual. Tessa’s been developing some rosemary bread, which is wonderful, and her walnut bread is gorgeous. It’s just that she hardly has time to breathe, let alone make bread.’

Dora, starved of carbs for eight years, salivated. ‘But you two are okay now? You know she’s never been my bag, but I know she’s a good friend to you.’

Millie nodded. ‘The whole family has. They’re my sort of adopted family, I suppose.’ She stroked a sleeping Trevor’s silken tummy with a bare toe.

‘He’s gorgeous, Mil. I’d love a dog but –’ Dora was interrupted by a couple asking for an autograph.

‘I told my Lee it was you. It is Theodora Bart, isn’t it?’ the woman trilled. ‘We saw you at the duck race this afternoon.’ They insisted on a selfie and a chat and by the time they’d gone, most of the pub’s other drinkers were staring.

‘Do you mind if we go, Millie. It’ll only encourage others if we stay.’

‘Of course,’ Millie murmured, casting a regretful glance at the half-full bottle.

Dora followed her look. ‘We’ll take this with us, shall we? Find somewhere secluded on the beach and hide. Grab the glasses.’

Giggling they tripped across the cooling sand and sat where the wooden groyne met the path which ran in front of the beach huts. Sheltered under the lip of the concrete path, which ran parallel to the promenade, they were more or less hidden.

‘I feel about fifteen again,’ Millie giggled as she flopped down. ‘We always used to come here to gossip.’

‘Best thing is you can still see all of the beach. Perfect for spying. Refill please.’ Dora held out her glass.

‘Does that happen often?’

‘What?’

‘People asking you for autographs.’

‘Not so much over here, although it depends. Not often when I’m going incognito like tonight.’ Dora gestured to her enormous sunglasses and straw hat. ‘It’s just if one person recognises me it seems to spark others off. Half of them don’t even know who I am. They just assume I’m famous enough to warrant a signature and a selfie. Once a guy got me to sign his arm and then had a go at me as he was disappointed I wasn’t Bonnie Wright. You know, out of the Harry Potter films?’

Millie screwed up her eyes. ‘I suppose you do look a bit like her. Not really thought about that before. Cor, my bestie the celeb! Not really thought about that before either!’

‘Yes well,’ said Dora, evenly. ‘Just remember, I’m really only Dora Bartlett, who held your hair off your face when you were sick the first time you got bladdered. And listened to you wax lyrical about, oh, who was it?’

‘Rick.’

‘Oh yes, he of the floppy fringe, soulful brown eyes and poetic tendencies. Whatever happened to him?’

‘He went to Manchester to do electrical engineering. Living in Watford now. Everyone seems to leave here.’

Dora ignored her friend’s mournful tone. ‘Okaay. Living the dream, then.’

Millie snorted. She leaned against Dora. ‘I’ve missed you. I can never get hold of you when you’re in the States, you know.’

‘Yeah well, the schedule gets pretty crazy.’

‘It’s so good to have you back, Dor.’

‘Get off, you soppy mare. Never took much to get you drunk, did it?’ They watched as Trevor rolled on his back, wriggling into the sand, getting his golden-brown coat covered. Millie went suddenly rigid against her. ‘What is it, honeybun?’

‘Oh God. It’s him. He’s back. Jed’s back.’