escaped from Erin’s ponytail and had curled slightly.
‘That’s all right,’ she replied, touching her hair, as if checking it was in place. ‘I was just about to close up. Did you want something? Please say no.’ She clasped her hands together as if in prayer.
‘In that case then, no?’ replied Kerry.
‘Is the right answer,’ Erin laughed, then added, ‘For God’s sake don’t tell my dad I’m turning away customers. He’ll have a fit.’ She moved round him and began stacking the outside seating.
‘Here, I’ll do that,’ said Kerry, taking hold of the chair Erin now had in her hands.
‘Tell you what, I’ll do the chairs and you do the tables.’ Erin gave the chair a little tug and then a much stronger one as Kerry realised he was still holding onto it. She raised her eyebrows slightly, a small smile turning the corners of her mouth upwards.
Kerry shook himself mentally and, letting go of the chair, turned to focus on the bistro table instead.
‘So, how was your first day?’ he asked, carrying a table in behind Erin.
‘Not so bad in the end. It’s been really quiet this afternoon. Not sure if it’s always like this, but it was hardly worth being open.’ They put the furniture to one side.
‘It will probably pick up more in the summer, though,’ said Kerry, holding the door open so they could go back out and collect some more tables and chairs.
‘I suppose so. If it’s like this tomorrow, I might close early.’
‘When do you think you’ll go back to London?’ Kerry hoped he sounded only mildly interested.
‘I need to see how things go with my dad first,’ she said. ‘There’s still no change in his condition. The doctors were having a consultation amongst themselves today to decide the best way forward.’
‘Is that good or bad?’ asked Kerry, although he acknowledged it didn’t sound good.
She shrugged and looked as if she was struggling to find the right words for a moment. He watched her swallow hard and then look up at him. ‘I really couldn’t say.’
Kerry placed another table inside the café. He felt he should comfort her with a hug or soothing words, but he got the distinct impression Erin didn’t want a fuss made. He decided best to leave it. As he turned to get the last of the tables, he saw a familiar figure heading towards the café, their eyes fixed firmly on the back of Erin as she stacked the last few chairs
She wasn’t hard to track down. She was going to be one of three places. At the hospital. At her sister’s or here, at the café. It wasn’t like she had loads of friends to catch up with.
Roisin neared the café, her thoughts solely on Erin. It wouldn’t be so bad, but after what happened, Erin had no right to disappear and start a new life, washing her hands of her old one, just because it didn’t work out the way she wanted it. Got herself a rich boyfriend in London and thought she was the bee’s knees. Sure, she had barely been back here. What sort of daughter was she?
But, hey, look at her now, waiting on tables. Serves her right. Roisin was so looking forward to wiping that smug look off her face and making Erin admit to what she really did.
‘How the mighty fall.’
Kerry looked from her to Erin and back again. His eyes were wary. He clearly wasn’t sure how things stood between the two of them.
Erin put the chair down and turned to face Roisin. ‘Hello, Roisin. I’m sorry but the café’s closed now.’
Sure, she wasn’t sorry at all. Erin knew Roisin wasn’t here for a cosy catch-up over a one-shot-skinny-latte, or whatever it was she drank. Probably some detox green-leaf crap, knowing her.
‘I’m not here for a coffee,’ said Roisin. ‘I didn’t get a chance to speak to you before, not with me mam there.’
‘I’m a bit busy right now,’ said Erin, glancing back at Kerry.
‘You got yourself a new job?’ Roisin asked, looking at Kerry.
‘Just being neighbourly,’ said Kerry.
‘Clearly. So, in the spirit of being neighbourly, has Erin been telling you all our secrets?’
‘That sounds dangerous,’ said Kerry.
The trouble with Kerry, Roisin could never read him. He could be so deadpan at times. She didn’t care; it gave her another opportunity for a dig at Erin. Roisin quite liked the way Erin had that look of uncertainty in her eyes. She had no clue as to what Roisin might say next.
‘Secrets are always dangerous,’ said Roisin. ‘Aren’t they, Erin?’
‘I need to get on,’ said Erin, ignoring the comment.
‘Yes, I’m sure you do,’ said Roisin. ‘Oh, meant to say, I got your text message…in the end.’
Erin looked up at her. ‘Good.’
‘It was too late, though,’ said Roisin, enjoying the doubt on Erin’s face. ‘Maybe we can catch up another time? There’s so much we need to talk about. Not least, why you did a disappearing act.’
‘It wasn’t a disappearing act.’ There was a snap in Erin’s voice and Roisin was rather pleased with herself. She had got the conversation to a place where she wanted it. A place Erin wasn’t happy to be: talking about her past. Erin turned her back on Roisin and picked up the last of the bistro tables. ‘I need to get finished here and go up to the hospital to see my dad.’
Before Roisin could reply, Kerry spoke. ‘Sorry, we must be holding you up. We’ll let you get on. Come on, Roisin, let’s go for a drink at The Smugglers.’ He whistled for Skip to follow.
Roisin went to protest, but Kerry took her elbow and whisked her away.
‘Sometimes, Kerry, you’re a proper gentleman,’ said Roisin, as she fell into step with him. ‘A drink is nice, although I’m not sure for whose benefit the offer is.’ She looked back over her shoulder and called out before Erin disappeared inside. ‘Don’t worry, Erin, there will be plenty of time for us to catch up. I’ll be in touch. Very soon.’
Kerry always enjoyed spending time at Apple Tree Cottage. Joe and Bex always made him feel at home. No one stood on ceremony. Their home definitely had a lived-in feel, but one that was warm and welcoming; just as Kerry thought a home should be.
Kerry was in the garden with Joe, watching him fiddle around with the lawn mower. Skip was laid flat out on the grass, basking in the warm May sunshine.
‘Aren’t you fed up that you keep having to fix that old thing?’ said Kerry as Joe made yet another attempt to start the petrol mower. ‘Why don’t you admit defeat and buy a new one?’
‘No, there’s
