Page 9 of Wish You Once More
“Please. Coffee.”
He busied himself preparing the drink. “Milk and sugar?”
“Black, and the stronger the better.” I forced a smile, remembering to be polite. If things had been different, I could have been the guy in dark grey trousers and white shirt with a tie that matched the train’s branding.
“There you go. Anything to eat?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m good, thanks.”
In truth, my stomach was a bundle of knots.
I wasn’t nervous about the gig on Sunday.
I wasn’t worried about spending the weekend with Dad, Jonny, Melinda and Henry.
I was shit scared of bumping into Bree Sheridan.
To say we hadn’t parted on the best of terms was a complete understatement. I could still picture the expression on her face when I told her what my plans were, how I saw my future panning out.
A shudder shot down my spine.
This weekend could be hell.
The weak coffee tasted like dishwater. It wasn’t doing anything to either wake me up or cheer me up, and there were still another three hours on the train.
To stem the boredom, I got my phone out. I hadn’t had chance to look at any of the posts from last night’s gig. Checking them out would while away some time.
Several messages lit up the screen.
Scott: let me and Rosie know about the house. We’ll come down on Saturday, be there around lunchtime.
Shit. I’d completely forgotten to arrange somewhere for them to stay. Before I forgot again, I called Jonny.
“Everything okay, bro? Train running late?”
“No, looks like everything’s fine. I need a favour.”
“You want me to set you up with one of Melinda’s friends?” Jonny laughed. “As long as you’re prepared to be a baby daddy, I can do that for you.”
I chuckled. “It’s nothing like that. I promised Scott I’d find a place for him and Rosie for this weekend. They’re coming down to watch the festival.”
Jonny let out a loud laugh. “You serious, Mat? You know it’s one of the busiest weekends of the year for us. Places are booked up months, sometimes years in advance.”
I let out a hard breath. Of course I knew. It had been drummed into me as soon as I was old enough to know about the business. Certain weekends, Bank Holidays, Christmas, Easter, town events were the bread and butter of the holiday home season. The Dart Sundowner was one of them.
“Any cancellations? Or one of the bigger properties that hasn’t been booked? Anything? Scott’s paying, so price won’t be too much of an issue.”
In the background, I could hear Jonny tapping away on a keyboard.
“You might be in luck. I’ve got an email from one of the punters saying they can’t come because his daughters got an ear infection or something. Let me check it out and get back to you.”
“It can wait until you pick me up. I’ll speak to Scott this evening.”
“Okay. See you in a bit.”
Guilt pricked at me for landing this on Jonny. If I wasn’t such an idiot and had asked when Scott had mentioned it earlier in the week, I wouldn’t feel so bad. Hopefully my brother would be able to rescue me, and not for the first time. Quickly, I messaged Scott back with the latest.
Scott: Didn’t want you to forget. Speak to you later.
