Page 8 of Christmas at Sturcombe Bay
“It would be perfect for us, too. With Christmas coming up, it can get a bit crazy.”
“Oh, yes.” Julia’s eyes danced. “The Turkey-and-Tinsel invasion.”
“Turkey and tinsel?” Jess queried, bemused.
Lisa grinned. “Coach parties. They come from all over, for three or four days, starting in late November. There can be anything upwards of fifty guests at a time, and it’s full on. Christmas on steroids: entertainment, decorations, excursions.”
“Sounds like fun,” Jess remarked uncertainly.
“It is. But it’s hard work. An extra pair of hands would be more than welcome.”
“And it would be great if you were working here, at least for a while,” Julia pointed out. “It would give you a chance to sort out what you want to do long-term, without having to bother about Glenn.”
Jess laughed. Yes, it was the perfect solution. “Okay. When do I start?”
“No time like the present!”
* * *
The quiz show they’d been watching had ended, and Luke glanced at the programme page in the newspaper. “There’s not much on now, unless you want to watch the news,” he remarked. “Fancy popping down to the Smugglers for a drink?”
“That sounds like a good idea.” Julia glanced across at Jess. “Fancy it?”
“Okay.” Better than sitting here pretending to watch television, trying to still the thoughts churning through her brain like a washing machine on an endless wash cycle.
“Come on then. I’ll just let Mum know we’re going out. She’ll keep an ear open for Ben. Liam and Cassie will probably be coming down later. Better put your jacket on — it’s a bit windy out there.”
Jess swung to her feet. In the hall she hooked her black leather motorbike jacket down from the rack and shrugged into it, tucking her hands into the pockets.
She was glad of its warmth as they strolled along the Esplanade. The sea, which earlier in the day had been a peaceful blue-green, lapping quietly against the sandy beach, had run in on a high tide and was now thumping against the sea wall, throwing up showers of white spray.
“Phew!” She had pulled her hair into a loose bun with a scrunchy, but the wind was tugging it loose and blowing long, curling strands across her face. “This is some weather!”
Julia laughed. “This is nothing. It’s only October yet. Wait till we get really into winter. It can blow up some fabulous storms, straight in off the North Atlantic.”
At least the pub looked welcoming, warm amber lights glowing through its windows. As Luke pushed open the door, that warmth greeted them — the rich dark oak of the slightly uneven floor and the beams across the low ceiling, a bar of the same gleaming wood, and rows of bottles and glasses and brass beer pumps. People were chatting and laughing, the jukebox playing some classic rock-’n’-roll hit from the sixties.
With the main season for holidaymakers over, the place wasn’t crowded. Most of the customers looked like locals, and Jess realised as she looked around that they were probably the youngest people there.
“Ah, there’s Lisa and Ollie.” They were sitting at a table in the corner. Julia raised her hand to acknowledge them. “Let’s join them.”
“I’ll get the drinks in,” Luke said. “What are you having?”
“Oh, a white-wine spritzer please.”
“Right.”
Lisa greeted them with a smile. “Hi, I thought you might be down. Jess, I don’t expect you remember my husband, Ollie.”
A tall man with floppy brown hair and glasses rose to his feet and held out his hand. “I think we’ve met, probably at Julia’s wedding. Come and sit down.”
There was plenty of room on the banquette seat for Jess and Julia to squeeze in. “How did you get on in Exeter?” Julia asked Lisa.
Lisa rolled her eyes. “It was packed, and the shops are all putting out their Christmas stuff already. Honestly, they seem to start earlier every year.”
Julia laughed. “How many shopping days to go?”
“It must be about ten weeks, I should think. Noah’s already started making his wish-list for Santa.”
