on the handrail to the steps. She clung on to the metal for dear life. It was the only thing that stopped her from running after him.
It had been one of the best nights of her life.
Millie hugged her knees again and giggled to herself. She knew she was acting like a lovelorn teenager but it was such a novel and delicious feeling to like and be liked back that she couldn’t help herself. Enjoying the champagne fizz of emotions inside, she rolled over onto her back and listened to the sea crashing outside.
She must have dozed off because she was woken by Trevor’s impatient barking, ordering her to let him out. When she clocked the time, she gave a frantic yell at how late she’d slept. There was no more time for dwelling on mysterious handsome men with melting brown eyes.
Arthur was her first customer. He turned up just as Millie was unlocking the front door and flipping the sign to, “Come in for gorgeous cakes.” She’d given Trevor the most cursory of runs on the beach and had got most things ready for another day at the café. The breeze coming off the sea was gentler this morning and there was a brighter blue in the sky. Even the aubrieta, cascading down the low wall that separated the café’s sun terrace from the beach, had greened up. Was it too much to hope that spring was in the air?
One look at Arthur’s distraught face had all thoughts of Jed and the softening season taking flight. He came in, again without Daisy, but followed closely on his heels by Biddy and Elvis.
‘I’ve been calling you all along the prom,’ the elderly lady yelled at the unfortunate man. ‘Where’s Daisy?’
Ignoring Biddy, Millie steered Arthur to his table in the window and sat him down. She feared the worst.
‘Cup of tea, Arthur? Or maybe a pot?’ At his nod she smiled and wasn’t reassured to see tears gleam behind his spectacles. To her surprise Biddy joined him, sitting opposite. Millie’s heart sank. Biddy wasn’t the easiest company and her tactlessness was legendary.
‘I said, how’s Daisy? Fern at the vet’s said she was in there.’
‘Biddy,’ warned Millie.
Arthur cleared his throat. ‘It’s alright, Millie. You may as well both know, the vet found a tumour. Daisy’s got to have an operation.’
‘A tumour? That doesn’t sound good.’ Biddy sniffed.
‘Biddy!’ Millie rolled her eyes.
‘What? No point beating about the bush, is there?’
Millie supposed there wasn’t. Concerned that Biddy might upset Arthur further, she rushed to the kitchen, made a pot of tea as quickly as she could, threw a few pastries onto a plate and joined the pensioners at their table.
‘You know I always drink coffee,’ grumbled Biddy.
‘Well, just this once you can have tea.’ As the woman began to moan, Millie cut her off with, ‘Don’t worry, it’s on the house.’
There was a silence as Millie doled out mugs and plates and offered round the cakes. She sneaked a dog biscuit to Elvis, who had retreated under the table and was sitting on her foot. ‘Go on, Arthur,’ she encouraged when he at first refused. ‘Try a bit of this tray bake. I soak the apricots in brandy to give them extra flavour.’
‘Brandy, I ask you!’ Biddy spluttered. ‘You’ll never make a decent profit by doing that sort of malarkey, young lady.’
‘Maybe not, but it goes down a storm and I only make it at this time of year.’ So put that in your pipe and smoke it, she added silently.
‘Not keen on brandy, me,’ added Biddy taking a huge mouthful and chewing with enthusiasm.
‘So, Arthur,’ Millie resumed, ‘Tell us all about Daisy. That’s if you can, of course.’ She put a hand on his and was distressed to feel it tremble.
He took an enormous breath and began to talk. Turned out Daisy had been under the weather for a while and, on a regular visit for her jabs, the vet had felt a lump on the dog’s stomach.
‘I don’t know how I could have missed it!’ Arthur cried. Millie pushed a mug of tea towards him.
Biddy pursed her lips. Millie braced herself for some kind of accusation or dire warning from the old woman. Instead she said, ‘Easily done. And some of them tumours grow fast. Besides, Daisy’s got such a thick coat, would’ve been easy to miss.’
Millie looked at Biddy in gratitude. She was being quite nice!
‘I had a goldie years ago,’ Biddy went on. ‘Just like your Daisy. Had her when I was doing my last job. Too busy rushing round the place. Missed a lump just under her ear.’
‘But she was okay, wasn’t she?’ asked Millie, praying Biddy had some consolation for Arthur.
‘Oh no. Turned out to be malignant. Had to have her put down. Upset all the girls, it did. Mind you, she was knocking on for twelve.’
Millie winced. Biddy’s rare tactfulness had been short-lived.
Arthur drank some tea. ‘Good age for a goldie,’ was all he said.
Biddy nodded. ‘You do what you can, don’t you?’ she boomed. ‘But there’s only so much you can do.’
‘What’s going to happen?’ Millie pushed the plate of cakes Biddy’s way in the hope of shutting her up.
‘They’ll have to conduct some tests, I expect, see what it is and we’ll take it from there.’
‘You got insurance?’ Biddy asked.
Arthur nodded. ‘But only up to a certain amount. If Daisy needs a very expensive operation …’ his voice trailed off.
‘Was going to say, I can always cough up a bit if you haven’t. What you looking at me like that for, Millie? We dog-owners got to stick together in times of crisis.’
Arthur dislodged Millie’s hand and reached over to Biddy. ‘Dear lady, that is a very kind thought.’
Millie looked from one to the other in amazement. Their usual enmity had been completely forgotten. Sliding off her seat she left them to it, praying Daisy would be in the clear – and that Biddy wouldn’t say anything more to upset Arthur.
It was the middle Saturday in January and Millie was going stir-crazy. She needed fresh air. She closed the café early and sent Zoe home. It had been quiet anyway since the literary festival had finished. She decided to drive into Lyme Regis. She had Tessa’s birthday present to buy and a sudden need to do some pottering around the town’s quirky shops.
It was one of those wonderful gifts of a day at which her part of the coast excelled. Spring really did seem just a few days around the corner. The sky was an optimistic shade of clear blue and you could smell the changing season lilting in on the gentle breeze from the sea. Millie wondered if her thick Guernsey might be a mistake, but it
