her own smile manically bright. ‘And how can I help you this fine day, Mr…’
‘Anthony Fisher. Call me Tony,’ he said, unfazed by Ditsy’s really rather frightening grin. Mia was almost impressed. ‘And I’m looking for a guidebook to the town, if you have such a thing.’
‘We most certainly do,’ Ditsy said. Mia started to get up to collect the Aberarian guide from the G shelf, and the corresponding map from shelf M, but Ditsy flung out an arm to keep her in her seat. ‘But actually, you’re in luck. For one day only, I can offer you something much better.’ Mia tried to break free, but the old woman’s arm was strong.
‘Really?’ Tony leaned his forearm on the counter and raised an eyebrow at Ditsy. ‘Lunch with you?’
Ditsy shook her head. ‘Even better. Your very own tour guide, free of charge.’
Mia had a horrible feeling she knew exactly where this was going. But Ditsy was freakishly strong for a seventy-six-year-old, and Mia could see no clear way of escaping that didn’t involve pushing her employer to the ground. It was tempting, she admitted, but possibly not the best of career moves.
‘It just so happens today is Mia’s afternoon off, and she is sadly lacking in plans.’ Ditsy grinned at her own cleverness. ‘She’d just love to show you around town, get you familiar with us, help you get a real feel for the place.’ Mia wasn’t sure how it was possible to make a tour sound quite so suggestive.
‘A real tour guide would be very helpful,’ Tony said, grinning this time. He really did have a very attractive smile. ‘I’m here for some business, you see, and if it goes well, I’m hoping to be spending quite some time in Aberarian.’
‘With your family?’ Mia asked, keen to nip this one in the bud before Ditsy got any more excited.
‘Oh, I’m not married,’ Tony told her. ‘Haven’t found a woman willing to take me on, yet!’
At that, Ditsy pushed Mia off her stool, slung her handbag and jacket into her stomach, and shoved her towards the door. ‘Well, then. You two have fun!’
As the shop door shut the musty smell of the A to Z shop behind them, Tony burst into laughter. Mia, trying very hard to stay cross with Ditsy, managed to keep a straight face for all of ten seconds before joining him.
‘We start our tour,’ she told him when she was finally calm enough to speak, ‘with the irrepressible Ditsy Levine, proprietor of the strangest shop on the North Wales coast and perpetual matchmaker.’
‘I like her,’ Tony said, in between chuckles. ‘After all, her matchmaking got me a guided tour of Aberarian.’
‘That it did,’ Mia agreed, gazing around the small town square and down the main street and wondering how long she could spin it out for. Since Ditsy had gone through so much trouble to set her up, she supposed she should make the most of it. ‘So, what do you want to see?’
‘Everything,’ Tony said, tucking her hand through his arm like they’d known each other for years instead of minutes. ‘We’ve got plenty of time.’
Mia swallowed, wondering exactly what Ditsy had let her in for. ‘Let’s start with the beach.’
* * * *
‘Are these all the bookings there are for the weekend?’ Charlie Frost stared at the almost blank page in front of him, knowing before she even answered that Magda was going to say yes.
‘So far,’ Magda said, because she was tactful and, Charlie knew, because last time she’d gently suggested perhaps they should look at closing the kitchen for a couple of days midweek, he’d bitten her head off. She learned fast, it seemed.
He sighed. ‘It’s all we’re going to get, and you know it. What about the…’ He waved his hands in what he hoped was an illustrative manner. ‘Thing with the dairy delivery. Did you get it fixed?’
‘All sorted. And there’ll be some walk-ins,’ Magda said, her Polish accent managing to sound hopeful even as she peered over his shoulder and winced. Charlie wondered again how a twenty-two-year-old girl who’d come to Britain to experience the bright lights of London had ended up practically running his restaurant in Aberarian, and decided he was just grateful she had.
‘Not enough.’ Charlie slammed the book shut. ‘I’ll have to go see Joe. Cut the order.’ He could phone, of course, or even email, but that would mean staying in the almost empty restaurant, watching his dreams continue to circle the drain.
‘Or we could open for breakfasts…’ Magda started, then trailed off when he glared at her. ‘I can look after things here.’
The early lunch crowd – all of two tables – had almost finished anyway. And as yet there was no sign of a later lunch crowd. Charlie supposed they might get a couple of stragglers, if they were very lucky, but otherwise he was shutting up shop at three and then he was free. Magda had the reins for the night, and Kevin had control of the kitchen. Charlie had plans – a tasting with Mia, meaning he’d be on the customers’ side of the restaurant that evening. Then a midnight showing of It Happened One Night at the Coliseum. There were worse ways to spend a Saturday night.
‘Thanks.’ He stored the book on the shelf under the front desk. ‘It won’t take me long.’
The fresh air as he walked along the front to Joe’s shop was a pleasant relief from the vanilla potpourri Magda had installed on the reception desk at the StarFish. Her theory was – people came to eat the fish, not smell it. Charlie felt people should really expect a little fish stink from a seafood restaurant.
Past the sea wall, the yellowy-grey sand stretched out to the currently distant sea, revealing shells and stranded jellyfish along the shoreline. The tide had turned, though. Only a matter of time before the detritus of the ocean washed away again. He smiled, remembering the blissful look on Mia’s face as she’d dug her bare toes into the sand that morning. He didn’t often manage to join Mia on her morning walks, but it was always worth it when he did. She never looked as happy as when she was walking along Aberarian beach in the early morning light.
Sometimes, just sometimes, he let himself imagine that he could make her look like that. But not too often. Mia would always snap him out of it with a comment about what a good friend he was, or how he’d be back in London where he belonged, any day now.
With one last glance at the sea, he cast Mia out of his mind and jogged up the stairs towards Joe’s.
Joe’s fishmonger and butcher shop was empty except for Joe himself, stacking cockle shells on the fish counter and staring balefully across at the abandoned butcher’s counter, his apron spotless.
‘Slow day?’ Charlie asked from the door, amused as always that Aberarian, realising it wasn’t big enough to support both a butcher and a fishmonger, had managed to combine the two so effectively.
‘Saturday.’ Joe’s voice was glum. ‘Used to be one of our busiest, when Dad ran the place. Everyone came in for a bit of something special for Sunday tea from the other side. Now they just go to the Tesco in Coed-y-Capel.’
‘Not everyone,’ Charlie said.
Joe’s face brightened. ‘That’s right. So, got a nice big order for me this week, have you?’
Charlie
