Читать книгу The Secret To Happiness - Jessica Redland - Страница 11

‘Are you sure I can’t tempt you with anything else?’ The waitress at Waterfront Lodge passed Alison her takeaway cup of tea.

‘Just the tea, thanks.’ Alison glanced at the glass cabinet loaded with sumptuous cakes and traybakes and her stomach rumbled appreciatively. Must be strong. Must be strong.

‘The salted caramel shortbread is freshly made and to die for,’ the waitress added. ‘Perfect mid-afternoon snack. But, if you’re sure…?’

Alison’s mouth watered. But she had to say no. It had been three weeks since she’d handed over her chocolate to Sarah and made a commitment to take control of her eating. And how long had that commitment lasted? Five hours? Six? What was wrong with her? Don’t do it. You don’t need it. But it looked so delicious.

‘Oh, go on then,’ she said. ‘Two slices please.’

Alison handed over the money and took the paper bag with a smile. It was a Saturday and what person in their right mind dieted on a weekend?

She’d barely stepped away from the counter before she opened the bag and took her first bite. Mmm. Closing her eyes, she savoured the buttery crumbliness of the shortbread, the saltiness of the gooey caramel, and the rich sweetness of the chocolate. Divine.

The warm early June weather had brought out dog walkers galore on the beach below her. Crossing the road and looking back towards North Bay Corner, she could see that the beach in front of the colourful beach huts was alive with kids playing and people soaking up the sun.

Finishing her first piece of shortbread, she took a sip from her tea, then reached into the bag for the second piece. No. Stop. If this was going to be her last weekend of indulgence, she was going to savour the second piece at her favourite spot: Stanley’s bench. The giant rusted steel sculpture of a local fisherman from the fifties, Stanley Moffatt, had been donated by an elderly resident as her legacy to the town she loved. Alison found something very comforting about sitting beside the colossal structure, relishing a rare opportunity to feel petite. Plus, it was above the rock pools; her special place.

She sat down on Stanley’s bench, sipping her tea, devouring the second shortbread, and absorbing herself in the buzz around her. Locals brushed shoulders with day-trippers and holidaymakers. There were families, groups of giggling teenagers, couples taking romantic strolls, and dog walkers. Mobility scooters travelled alongside cyclists, and joggers weaved in and out of the crowds. She really was fortunate to live in such a beautiful place that so many people wanted to visit and, looking at the North Sea twinkling in the sun, who could blame them?

She slipped off her jacket and closed her eyes as the sun kissed her bare arms and face. It was the most relaxed she’d felt in weeks. Dave had barely spoken to her since the plate-smashing incident but that was fine because Alison had nothing to say to him. She’d replayed that scene so many times. Although she wanted to believe it was an accident, that one statement – ‘I’ll show you childish’ – suggested a deliberate act. The lack of remorse had floored her and that parting shot about her in a bikini? Why had he felt the need to hurt her again? That night, she’d come so close to packing a bag and leaving, but where would she go? With no family and no close friends, even Dave in a foul mood was better than being alone.

Frantic barking interrupted her thoughts and drew her gaze to the left. A couple of dogs were chasing each other in a circle, ignoring the shouts of their owners who were attempting to untangle their leads. A tall, slim woman running towards them tried to avoid the chaos but it seemed that, wherever she moved, the dogs moved too, their leads stretching across her path.

Alison leapt off the bench as the woman screamed and tumbled full-length onto the pavement. One of the dog walkers rushed off and the other stood by, looking helpless.

Alison crouched down beside the woman. ‘Oh my God! Are you all right?’

‘A bit winded.’

‘Take it slowly,’ Alison said. ‘Let me help you.’

The other dog walker disappeared too. What was wrong with people? She helped the jogger to her feet and over to the bench, wincing at the blood trickling down both the woman’s legs.

‘I’m Alison. What’s your name?’

‘Danni… Er, Danniella.’

‘Did you hit your head?’

Danniella put a shaking hand up to her forehead and frowned. ‘I don’t think so.’

Removing a packet of tissues from her bag, she nodded towards Danniella’s bloody knees. ‘Do you mind?’

Danniella looked down and released what sounded like a sob mixed with a groan. ‘I’m not good with blood.’

‘It probably looks worse than it is.’ Alison mopped at some of the dribbles. ‘But we do need to get you cleaned up. You’ve got some grit in there. If you wait here, I can get a bottle of water from the café.’

Danniella shook her head. ‘Don’t worry about it. I think I’ll just head home. Thanks for your help, though. Alison, was it?’

‘Yes.’ She frowned. ‘Is home close?’

Danniella nodded, but didn’t share any further information.

‘You’ve scraped your arms too. I can help you home and clean you up. I’m a first-aider at work so I’m used to it and I promise to be gentle.’

Danniella bit her bottom lip and stared at Alison, as though weighing her up.

‘I promise I’m not a mad psychopath,’ Alison said, ‘and I won’t steal all your stuff as soon as I know where your spare key’s hidden.’

Danniella smiled, her shoulders relaxing. ‘Don’t you have anywhere that you need to be?’

Alison shrugged. ‘I’d love to say that I have an exciting life full of plans for a sunny Saturday afternoon but, sadly, I don’t. Except first-aid duties, of course.’

‘Okay. Yes please,’ Danniella said.

Alison stood up and helped Danniella to her feet. ‘Where are we going?’

Danniella pointed to a row of flats on the cliff above them. ‘Not far. It’s the blue one.’

A hill. It had to be up a hill, didn’t it? On a hot day too. ‘Great. Let’s do it. But I think we should take it really slowly because of your knees.’

Danniella nodded. ‘I don’t think I could take it quickly even if I wanted to.’