Page 19 of One Golden Summer
“It’s on there.” Kirsty jabbed a slender finger at the calculation.
“At a ridiculously low rate.” Saffron slapped the paper against her leg. “I can’t let you work for basically nothing.”
“It’s what I charge.”
“You need to learn how much you’re worth and not sell yourself short.”
Their eyes met, neither speaking, but Saffron’s insides turned into a schmaltzy mush.
A child burst into tears after dropping her ice cream cone.
“Can I borrow another fiver?” Saffron asked.
“Sure.”
Saffron hunched down and asked the kid. “Can I get you a new cone?”
A tear-streaked face nodded yes.
After the child’s parents thanked Saffron and they went on their merry way, Kirsty studied Saffron with a quizzical expression, but didn’t say a word.
“Add that fiver to the bill, in addition to the oyster.” Saffron got a pen out of her bag and clicked it. “Actually, I’ll add the charges.” She looked up. “Shall we shake on it?”
“If you insist, but I trust you’ll pay.”
“I do insist. And, I’ll be keeping track of all the incidentals and amending the bill accordingly.” Saffron stuck out her hand.
Kirsty took it into hers.
They gazed at each other, holding on.
“Are you sure you don’t want an oyster? When was the last time you ate one? Tastes change.” Saffron was well aware she still held Kirsty’s hand, but she was finding it difficult to let go.
“Trust me when I say I don’t want one.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”
Chapter 7
Kirsty wobbled as she hit the top of the step ladder. She clutched the metal handle to steady herself. She was in the shop window, and she really didn’t need to give the town a live performance of falling on her arse. Helena couldn’t climb ladders due to a vertigo issue, so the job of putting up their festival bunting and posters had fallen to her. Kirsty reached up and secured the bunting over the hook she’d put up a few years ago. They used it to string their Christmas lights, too.
“How did the wine drop-off go?” Helena had drunk three cups of coffee today, which wasn’t helping her Saffron-inspired mania. Kirsty was glad Sandy Cove didn’t attract celebrities as a rule, just artists and writers who Helena could walk past in the street and never recognise. Movie stars, it seemed, were her Achilles heel.
Unlike Kirsty, who was taking her burgeoning friendship with Saffron Oliver totally in her stride. Particularly after Saffron had texted to say thanks for the wine, and even signed off with a kiss.
Yep. Easy breezy.
“It went fine.” Kirsty wasn’t giving too much away. Somehow, she felt an allegiance to protect Saffron at all costs. Like she needed it. “I dropped the wine off; she admired our bike.”
“Of course she did!”
“Then I left. The end.”
She was lying to Helena.
That was new.
“Did you get a photo of her with the bike? It would be really good for business if we put that on Instagram.”
