Page 13 of The Big Dip in Crumbleton
‘Frankly, I wouldn’t have blamed the seagulls,’ said Scarlett. ‘I get being hungry when there’s no breakfast around!’
‘Erm… yeah, sorry about that,’ said Pete, with a sudden twinge of guilt. ‘I was meant to make sure you had bread, fruit and milk… but unfortunately for you, I was too busy sulking about being kicked out, and I forgot.’
‘Wait… kicked out?!’ said Scarlett.
Pete wanted to face-palm. Again. His mum was going to have his guts for garters for letting that slip!
Before he could figure out a way to backtrack and put things right, there was a crash from behind the counter. Pete and Scarlett both whipped around.
‘Nothing to see here!’ called Libby, bending to retrieve the tray she’d just sent flying. ‘Everything’s under control!’
‘That’s Libby,’ said Pete, turning back to Scarlett. ‘My little sister. She doesn’t usually work behind the counter. She’s more used to running around, waiting on the tables. You okay Libs?’
Libby looked up and gave him the thumbs up, though her smile was somewhat strained. ‘Hi!’ she added, clearly spotting Scarlett for the first time. ‘Be right with you!’
‘Erm… have a seat,’ said Pete, suddenly realising that he’d left his guest of honour hovering awkwardly next to the table.
Scarlett sank down opposite him with a smile that made him grin goofily back at her. It was official—he had zero cool around this woman!
‘Here we go,’ said Libby, beetling towards them with a tray now laden with coffee cups. She quickly lined them up along the edge of the table. ‘Espresso, flat white, cappuccino and a latte. I’m Libby, by the way. Nice to meet you.’
‘Scarlett,’ said Scarlett, looking bewildered as she glanced along the line of coffees and then at Pete. ‘Expecting company?’
‘Nope,’ said Libby, answering for him. ‘I need to practice… so, I guess they’re your coffees now.’
Pete nodded. ‘Help yourself to whatever you fancy. You can help me taste-test them… unless you’d prefer a cup of tea?’
‘This is perfect, thanks,’ said Scarlett, reaching for the flat white and taking a cautious sip. ‘Not bad,’ she said with a little nod. ‘A bit heavy on the foam, but definitely drinkable.’
‘I’ll take that!’ said Libby, looking thrilled as she hurried back towards the counter.
‘High praise indeed,’ said Pete, with a little laugh. ‘The food’s pretty good too. I recommend the bacon bap, but have whatever you fancy—it’s on me.’
‘Seems like I should be the one buying you breakfast, if I’ve kicked you out of your home,’ said Scarlett, looking concerned. ‘Did I catch that right—is the hut yours?’
‘He wishes!’ Libby called from behind the counter, where she was now struggling to slot a fresh coffee puck into the machine at an awkward angle. She yanked at it, muttering under her breath as it refused to come free.
Pete rolled his eyes at his sister’s interruption. ‘Technically, the hut belongs to my parents, but I’ve been living in it for nearly a year now, ever since I came back from Australia.’
‘Australia?’ said Scarlett, looking interested. ‘What were you doing there?’
‘Surfing, mostly,’ said Pete. ‘And a bit of bar work to pay the bills. It was meant to be a short trip, but… erm… I was there for quite a while.’
He pulled himself up short, not wanting to relay his whole sorry sob story. Scarlett didn’t need to know about the great-white-shark incident.
‘And now you’re back in Crumbleton Sands?’
‘For the time being,’ he said, with a nonchalant shrug that didn’t quite match the twist of uncertainty he felt whenever he thought about his future. ‘Just until I figure out what’s next.’
From across the room, Libby let out a small cry of triumph as she finally freed the stubborn coffee puck.
Pete grinned at Scarlett. ‘Like I said, she doesn’t normally work behind the counter. Maisie wanted the day off for The Big Dip, so little sis is covering for her.’
‘I’m getting the hang of it!’ Libby insisted, the desperation in her voice belying her words as she fumbled with a milk jug.
Scarlett glanced between Pete and the struggling Libby, then carefully set her coffee down. ‘You know, I don’t think I’m in the mood for bacon. Is it okay if I grab myself a pastry?’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘Save your sister from having to cook anything,’ she added in a low voice.
Pete nodded, but before he could offer to help, Scarlett crossed to the counter. He watched as she selected a couple of pastries from the display, popped them on a plate and added a napkin.
