Page 141 of Not That Ridiculous

I wasn’t counting on it.

I stood for another quiet moment with my back to the alley wall, turning my phone over and over in my hand.

Amalie’s general shittiness at keeping in contact and communicating irritated me no end.

I’d be a real hypocrite if I didn’t make a solid effort with Kevin.

I pulled up his number, took a deep breath, and called.

26

It rang and rang.

He didn’t pick up. He didn’t have his voicemail switched on, either.

I scowled at the screen and tapped out an angry text.

Call me. We need to talk.

I was pondering which emoji would best signify my (loving) disapproval of his avoidant behaviour when Pippa banged the back door open and stuck her head out.

“Charlie,” she said, “Jasper had to run, and we’re getting swamped.”

“Coming.” I hit send and hurried inside.

Kevin did not call me.

Kevin did not even reply to my text. I could see that he read it, but there was no reply.

I checked an embarrassing number of times as the morning ticked by. By lunchtime, I was lightly seething with a mix of hurt feelings and annoyance.

Mostly hurt feelings.

Pippa reluctantly left to meet her friends in Oxford. She’d tried to cancel but I insisted I’d fire her if she didn’t go. Jasper rushed back from hisBooty Pump!class as soon as he could, full of energy and all gussied up in his too-tight Chipped Cup t-shirt, and helped out with the lunch rush.

It was worse than usual. The news that the police were investigating a dead body found at my house had made the rounds, and suddenly a whole load of nosy arseholes decided that they were in the mood for coffee.

And a little gossip on the side.

After the third person had tried to shake me down for some insider details, I snatched a piece of paper from the back, wrote ANYONE ASKING ABOUT DEAD BODIES IS BANNED UNTIL CHRISTMAS on it in big black capital letters, and stuck it to the till.

Worked like a charm.

It got me a couple of confused looks from the few people who obviously hadn’t heard, weren’t on social media, or didn’t read the news, but that wasn’t my problem.

By the time Liam came in, the lunch rush had tailed off somewhat, and Jasper and his tight t-shirt had quadrupled the amount of tips in the coffee cup that sat on the counter beside the till. I’d already had to empty it twice.

When Liam spotted Jasper in the aforementioned tight t-shirt, he did a double take, then gave him a thorough looking-over as he strolled up to the counter.

“Well, hello there, Mr Detective,” Jasper said, cocking a hip and eyeing Liam up just as thoroughly. “Coffee and a doughnut for you?”

Liam’s lips twitched. “Yes, please.”

“I’m thinking of going full time,” Jasper told him as he sashayed over to the bean grinder and flipped it on with a nonchalant air. “I’m so good at this.” The grinder made a choking sound and he slapped it off, shooting me a yikes-face.

“You forgot the beans,” I said, and hip-checked him out of the way to fill the hopper. “Again.”

“Yep. Sorry.”

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