‘Earth to Beth.’
Eliza waved a hand in front of her face, and she blinked back into the present. ‘Sorry, I was woolgathering.’
Her friend wrinkled her nose. ‘By the expression on your face, you were thinking about he-who-shall-remain-nameless.’
Beth held up her hands. ‘Guilty as charged. Bloody hell, did you always know he was a total arse?’
‘Always.’ She softened the blow with a kiss and another fragrant hug. ‘But then I know what you and Libby both think of Martin, so it’s swings and roundabouts.’
She thought about arguing the point. Whilst she and Charlie were history, Eliza was still very much married. In the end, she copped out. ‘As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.’ They looked at each for a long moment, then burst out laughing.
‘God, but you’re a terrible liar, B, always have been,’ Eliza said between giggles.
A knock on the front door startled them both and they turned to see Libby with her mouth pressed against the glass. She’d blown out her cheeks, the way they used to do as kids, pulling a hideous face which set them off again. ‘Look at the bloody mess you’ve made on my nice clean window!’ Beth wagged a finger at Libby as she pulled open the door.
Libby tugged the sleeve of her jumper down and rubbed it vigorously over the wet mark, smearing it further. ‘Look, see, all fixed.’ She raised the arm she’d been holding behind her back to show a bottle of pink Lambrini. ‘So, are we having a party, or what?’
An eternal goth, she’d paired thick-soled boots with the skinniest black jeans, a black and red striped jumper and ears full of studs. The rainbow hair had been covered in jet-black dye and stood up in all directions. She reminded Beth of a miniature Dennis the Menace, and she said so.
Libby gave a graceful twirl, which shouldn’t have been possible in a pair of thick-soled Doc Martin’s. ‘You’re just jealous of my style, B.’
Eliza grabbed the bottle from her with a hoot. ‘Where the hell did you find this?’ She shuddered. ‘Just looking at it makes my head ache.’
Libby snatched it back. ‘Hey! I don’t care what kind of swill you drink these days, but I’m loyal to our past. It was this or a six-pack of Babycham.’
Beth shut and locked the door. ‘Come on upstairs, the pair of you. You’re supposed to be here to help me, not just get drunk.’
Libby’s heavy boots thudded on the steps behind her. ‘I vote we do both.’
‘Me too,’ Eliza piped up from behind her. ‘Two to one, you’re outvoted, Beth. Get the glasses out.’
By the time the Lambrini bottle was empty, they’d managed a layer of undercoat on the two biggest walls. Libby dropped her roller into the tray, knuckling the base of her back to stretch it. ‘Right,’ she declared. ‘I’m on strike until you feed me!’
Happy for an excuse to stop herself, Beth placed the brush she’d been using to edge along the skirting into a jar of cloudy water and stripped off the bandana she’d used to tie back her hair. ‘I thought we might get a takeaway, if that’s all right with you two?’
‘Perfect!’
‘Ooh, can we have pizza? I haven’t had pizza in ages.’
Libby and Eliza almost tripped over each other in their eagerness to respond. Knowing only too well her own shortcomings in the kitchen, Beth tapped her chin, pretending to consider the point further. ‘Or, I could make us something. It’s the least I should do to thank you both for helping me out like this.’
Their responses were even quicker this time:
‘Oh, no. Don’t put yourself to any trouble!’
‘It’s our pleasure to help you, B, that’s what best friends are for.’
She looked between the two of them; she could tell by the way Libby’s eyebrow was twitching she was trying not to wince, and burst out laughing. ‘God, you two are so easy to wind up! The menu’s on the pinboard in the kitchen. Come on.’
Bypassing the board, Libby went straight for the fridge and grabbed a fresh bottle of wine. ‘Who needs a menu? You and Eliza will split a large Hawaiian, because you’re freaks who think hot fruit is an acceptable topping, and I’ll have a regular spicy sausage.’
It had been their staple order whenever they were together, and Beth couldn’t help but smile when she gave the details to Gina over the phone and the woman added, ‘And two garlic breads, right, Beth? I heard Eliza was home for the weekend so I’ve been expecting your call. It’ll be about twenty minutes. Shall I send Davey to the back gate?’
‘Yes, please. We’ll keep an eye out for him.’
‘All right, love. How are things, by the way? I can’t tell you how thrilled we both were that you’re going to keep the emporium going. It’s been such a feature of the prom for so many years, the town just wouldn’t be the same without it.’
Beth knocked her head against the wall. She knew Gina meant well, and of course her return would be the talk of the town, but the weight of expectation didn’t help the butterflies in her tummy. The moment she opened the doors, everyone would be in to have a good snoop around and offer their opinions on what she’d done with the place.
She sighed. ‘It’s a lot of work, Gina. A bit more than I expected, if I’m honest.’ She felt a nudge at her elbow and smiled gratefully to Libby when she handed her a brimming glass of wine. ‘But I’ve got plenty of helping hands, I just hope people like what I’ve done with the place.’
‘You’ll be grand, sweetie. Don’t let those busybodies from the improvement society intimidate you. That leader of theirs is a nosy baggage. You know she came in here and told Davey we should consider upgrading our menu. Like this town hasn’t run on our pizzas and kebabs for the past twenty-five years. Bloody cheek!’
Beth sipped her wine, and made appropriate ‘uh-hum’ noises, letting Gina’s diatribe wash over her. Hester had clearly ruffled the woman’s feathers, and there was a real sense of hurt beneath the angry words filling Beth’s ear. It would be easy for a stranger to make assumptions about the type of establishment Gina and Davey ran, but the food was all freshly prepared with ingredients of the highest quality. Yes, it was a takeaway, but not the kind that had drunks spilling out onto the pavement after the pubs closed. Gina finally ran out of steam and let Beth go with a promise to call them if she needed anything.
‘Wow, who stuck a bee in Gina’s bonnet?’ Eliza asked with a smile as Beth hung up.
‘Mrs Bradshaw, on behalf of the improvement society. Suggested they should upgrade from pizza and kebabs to stuffed ravioli and mezze.’
Libby snorted into her wine, choking so hard Eliza had to give her a thump on the back. ‘Oh, to have been a fly on the wall for that conversation!’
Beth giggled. ‘I know! I bet it wasn’t the ravioli that ended up stuffed.’
Libby choked again. ‘That woman desperately needs to find a hobby before she turns the whole bloody town against her.’
‘Oh, I’m sure she means well.’ Typical Eliza, keen to see the best in everyone.
‘Sam