Page 27 of Coming Home to Sturcombe Bay
“Who’s next for the slaughter?” Liam asked, grinning around at his friends.
With some good-natured ribbing, another challenger stepped up, but was dispatched as effectively as the others. Finally, Cassie shook her head and put her cue back in the rack. “That’s enough. I’m out.”
“Well done. Very good play.” Several of her rivals applauded her as she moved away from the table.
“That was a good game.” Liam had moved to her side. “Loser buys the winner a drink?”
“Oh . . . Thank you.” Somehow she managed a smile. “A white wine spritzer, please.”
He bought her drink at the bar, but they didn’t immediately move over to the table where Lisa and Ollie were sitting with Paul and his girlfriend.
“Are you coming to the cricket tomorrow?” he asked.
“Oh, yes.” She conceded a faint smile. “I’ll be there. And so will my grandmother.”
He arched a dark eyebrow in astonishment. “Really? She’s well enough to come out?”
“Not really,” Cassie acknowledged wryly. “But she’s made up her mind. Would you care to argue with her?”
“Not at all — she’s terrifying!” He laughed. “Do you remember that time there were a bunch of yobs throwing stones at the seagulls down on the beach? She marched down there and gave them a right rollicking. Their ears must have been ringing for weeks!”
“Oh, yes. That was just like Nanna. At least she’s agreed to use her wheelchair.”
“Well, I suppose that’s a big concession.” Just then his phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket, glancing at the screen. “Excuse me, I have to take this.”
“Of course.”
“Hello? Yes . . . Tell me . . .”
An emergency. It was too noisy in the pub for him to hear. Lifting his hand in a brief goodnight, he eased quickly through the crowd and out of the door. That was probably the last she would see of him tonight. Biting back her disappointment, she took her drink and moved over to sit down with her brother andhis girlfriend. “Good game.” Paul grinned. “I knew you could play, but I didn’t realise you were that good.”
Cassie laughed. “Ah, much you do not know there is, young Jedi.”
Paul rolled his eyes. “Have you still got a crush on Han Solo?”
“Paul! I was twelve!”
He laid his hand over his heart. “Ah, first love.”
She flicked a beer mat at him.
Tom Cullen came over to join them. Cassie smiled up at him. “Where’s Vicky?” she asked. “I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
“Working a late shift up at the hotel. But you’ll meet her tomorrow if you’re coming to the cricket.”
He sat down, and in a few moments the conversation turned, inevitably, to football. “Who do you reckon’s going to win the title this year, Paul?”
He laughed. “Oh, come on, the season’s barely started. Only a fool would make a prediction after only two games.”
“That new caretaker manager that’s taken over from Johnson looks like he could do the business. They should keep him on. He could give them just the push they need.”
“They’ve got some good young players coming up. There’s a young striker I reckon could really go places.”
“Liverpool are always going to be a good bet. Though that goalless draw at Notts Forest was a bit of a letdown.”
Cassie was sitting next to Paul’s girlfriend, the leggy blonde. He had always gone for the same type, even when he was in his teens. “Do you play football, Chanelle?”
The girl looked startled at the question. “Oh . . . no.”
