Ottercombe Bay – Part Two: Gin and Trouble. Bella OsborneЧитать онлайн книгу.
over, announced his arrival with a loud bray and barged the others out of the way.
‘Steady on,’ said Daisy, checking the name on his collar. ‘Hiya Guinness.’ Guinness wobbled his large head and tried to eat Daisy’s shirtsleeve, which made her laugh.
‘You feeling better?’ asked Tamsyn tentatively.
Daisy gave her friend a half hug. ‘Yeah, I am. Thanks for getting me out of the cottage.’
‘It’s what friends do.’
‘Let’s get a coffee. It’s my treat,’ said Daisy, and they followed the signs to the café. They took their tray outside and settled themselves down with a view of some white donkeys being fed their lunch.
‘Are you working today?’ asked Daisy in between mouthfuls of heavily buttered teacake.
Tamsyn gave a heavy sigh. ‘Yeah, they want me in at one o’clock, but they may not need me past four when everyone starts leaving the beach. I can never be sure what I’m going to get paid. Dad hinted again last night that I should be thinking about leaving home but even with saving all I can I don’t stand a chance of being able to afford my own place. Especially not around here.’ She sighed again and sipped her latte. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t moan. Especially not after the day you’ve had.’
‘My day has got a whole lot better,’ said Daisy. ‘Thanks to you.’ Tamsyn gave a weak smile, which quickly changed into a huge grin.
‘I’m going to hand in my notice. I’m going to quit the beach café.’
‘Whoa there. Let’s not get hasty,’ said Daisy. She wasn’t the best source of advice but at least Tamsyn had a job, however crap it might be.
‘No, I should have done it years ago. If I quit then I have to get something better.’ She picked up her coffee to clink mugs with Daisy.
‘Or you could keep the beach café job whilst you look for something else,’ she suggested. ‘That way you still have some income.’ How did you tell someone you cared about that this was the worst idea ever?
‘Hmm,’ said Tamsyn, appearing to consider this.
Daisy stared on wide-eyed and fearful. ‘What’ll you do?’
Tamsyn slowly ran a finger across her eyebrow. ‘I might do reading …’
‘I don’t think anyone will pay you for that. Unless you mean like a book editor – I think that’s all they do all day.’
‘No, palm reading, silly.’
‘I didn’t know you were like your mum.’
‘I’m not sure I am but if I don’t try I won’t know.’ Tamsyn was still grinning, the obvious flaws in her plan clearly not obvious to her.
‘You should probably test out your skills first. Punters will be hacked off if it turns out you can’t tell them their future.’
Tamsyn appeared to ponder this. ‘Let me try on you,’ she said, taking Daisy’s hand.
Daisy looked about her quickly, what would other people think? It looked like Tamsyn was about to propose. ‘I think you’re meant to read it not hold it,’ pointed out Daisy, embarrassment stealing over her.
‘I’m seeing if I can sense a connection.’
A loose connection in Tamsyn’s head was all Daisy could think of. Tamsyn shut her eyes and gripped Daisy’s hand. Daisy acknowledged an elderly couple who went past shaking their heads. Daisy waited. ‘Anything?’
‘I’m not sure what I’m meant to be sensing.’
‘Usually people with a gift tell you something about yourself you don’t already know.’
‘How can I not know something I’m telling you? Makes no sense.’ Tamsyn looked confused.
‘If you have the gift. You tell me something I know but you don’t.’ Tamsyn opened her mouth looking as if a light bulb had just pinged on above her head. ‘And not something Reg told you,’ added Daisy quickly. Tamsyn’s face dropped. ‘Just relax and see if you can sense anything.’ Daisy offered Tamsyn her hand once more.
‘Okay, let’s try again.’
Tamsyn held Daisy’s right hand for a while. Daisy noticed her coffee was going cold so picked it up with her left hand, which felt odd and she clumsily put it to her lips.
‘A-ha!’ shouted Tamsyn her eyes snapping open.
Daisy slopped her drink down herself. ‘Cock,’ said Daisy and Tamsyn gave her an old-fashioned look making her feel she needed to amend her swearing. ‘Cock … a-doodle-doo?’ Tamsyn seemed happy with the alteration. ‘Did you sense something?’
‘Yes,’ said Tamsyn emphatically.
Daisy was preoccupied with wiping the spilled coffee off her top. ‘Okay, what was it?’
‘Teaspoons!’ said Tamsyn her voice triumphant.
Daisy stopped what she was doing and blinked. ‘What about teaspoons?’
Tamsyn straightened. ‘My mind was a complete blank …’ This did not surprise Daisy. ‘And then teaspoons popped into my head. Do you collect teaspoons?’ Daisy shook her head. ‘Hmm. Have a fear of teaspoons perhaps?’ Daisy shook her head again. ‘Do you even like teaspoons?’
‘Not especially,’ said Daisy, as the serviette she was using to mop up the coffee began disintegrating.
‘Ahh, but you don’t dislike them.’
‘No.’ This was possibly the oddest conversation she’d ever had.
‘There you go then.’ Tamsyn seemed pleased. ‘I think I might have something.’
‘It’s a bit of a cliché but seriously Tamsyn I don’t think you should give up the day job.’
‘O-kay.’ Tamsyn’s tone was sulky.
‘You need to plan what job you really want to do. What are all the things you love? Think of those and they may uncover a wonderful opportunity.’
‘I love buttons,’ said Tamsyn and Daisy bobbed her head enthusiastically whilst she tried desperately to think of an associated job.
In that moment Daisy realised she also wanted something more – to do something she loved and not just for the money. She was here until the end of June and she couldn’t spend her time doing nothing because then it would seem like a life sentence. In the back of her mind something Max had said started to germinate. Perhaps it was worth having a chat to the planning office about the railway building; it couldn’t do any harm.
Jason was sitting in the pub engrossed in a newspaper headline about a drugs raid in Exeter, not taking his eyes off the page as he sipped his half of shandy.
‘All right?’ Max pulled out the stool opposite noting Jason’s intense expression. This was the stuff of his dreams – a big police case.
Max was wearing his lifeguard’s uniform and his orange shorts strained when his muscled thighs flexed as he sat down. He put his pint down and looked across the table. It made Max smile that as well as the drugs raid, Nesbit the eagle’s safe return home had also made the local front page.
‘Have the shed arsons made it to the nationals yet?’ he joked.
‘Don’t ridicule it, it’s a serious crime, Max. Mr Patel’s shed was torched on Monday and his tortoise was burned alive.’ Jason’s face was sombre unlike Max who was already cracking up.
‘Toasted tortoise. It might become a delicacy,’ said Max, bringing his laughter under control.
‘He was very upset,’ said Jason, folding up his paper precisely and laying it on the table.
Max snatched up the paper and turned