Page 102 of Coming Home to Wishington Bay
‘Oh no.’
‘What?’
‘It was Paul.’
‘Paul?’ Carrie replied, unable to keep the astonishment out of her voice. ‘As in your ex, Paul?’
‘Yes. I’m sorry. I had no idea he was booking something there.’
‘Are you seeing him again?’
‘No. I … He turned up at the door today, completely out of the blue. I know I should have just closed the door in his face but I was just caught on the hop. And then of course Gabe had to come back right that moment, with this bloody goddess on the back of his bike, and I wasn’t really listening to what Paul was saying. And apparently I agreed to go to dinner with him.’
‘Hols!’
‘I know. I’m really sorry about the reservation though. I had no idea he’d done that. Just cancel it and I’ll book somewhere else. He shouldn’t have done that without asking me.’
‘Are you sure he didn’t?’
‘What?’
‘Ask.’
‘Oh! Actually no but knowing Paul I doubt it. Do you know what time it was booked?’
‘Not long after we opened for lunch.’
‘Then no, he didn’t. He wasn’t here until later. Ugh. I’m really sorry, Carrie. Just free it up and we’ll go elsewhere. I’m not planning to stay long anyway.’
‘No, it’s fine. Come here. It’ll give us a chance to spill things on him anyway.’ What amused me about that was that I knew she wasn’t joking.
‘Does Ned know yet?’
‘No, not yet. Do you want me to pre-warn him?’
‘What do you think is best? Giving him time to source some arsenic, or just letting him go apoplectic in the restaurant?’
‘I’m not sure there’s a clear winner there. Maybe we could just leave him in the dark until it’s absolutely necessary.’
‘Sounds like a good plan to me.’
Ned had never been all that taken with Paul, rather like Gigi. Apparently it had only been me who’d fallen for those charms.
‘OK, sweetheart. Just be careful and I’ll try and pop down and see you tonight, if this baby gives me any relief.’
‘That’s all right. You just go and rest. I can handle Paul. I wouldn’t even be going if I’d been thinking straight. As it is, I’ll just order the most expensive things on the menu. The least I can do is get a good meal out of it.’
I hung up and sat looking out to sea for a moment. Thankfully the tide was out quite a way so I couldn’t see Gabe and Miss Perfect especially well, and with the various other surfers and sea users, it was easier to lose them. I’d already put the lid back on the paint. Somehow I’d rather lost my enthusiasm for painting with the unexpected turn my afternoon had taken.
As I sat, I began hearing a strange scratching noise accompanied by a small whine. The noise continued for a few more minutes, until suddenly Bryan burst out of the patio doors opposite, launching himself onto the deck with so much force his little legs didn’t quite keep up, resulting in him performing at least two and a half rolls before he came to a slightly dazed halt.
‘You OK, Bry?’
Upon hearing my voice, he gave a quick shake, shot across the deck and up onto my lap.
‘You’re supposed to be a sausage dog, not a sausage roll, you daft thing,’ I told him as he shoved his warm little body against me and I cuddled him back in turn, laughing as he wiggled to and fro in excitement. The house had felt so lonely without his regular company and I would have gladly continued having him, but I guess Gabe had wanted to excise me from his life as much as possible. Although the little dog being shut in his house now was strange. Normally when he was home, he went everywhere with Gabe and I’d never seen him on the beach without him.
Bryan made himself comfortable on my lap and I flicked through one of the interior design magazines I’d left on the table. At the sound of voices, I kept my head down, one hand rhythmically stroking the dog’s fur as I folded down the corner of a page to tear out later and put in the file I’d begun for ideas and inspiration.
