The Secret Seaside Escape - Heidi Swain Page 0,29

about really,’ she chuckled, ‘but I’m sure Hope will be thrilled you’re on board. The pair of you are going to hit it off in no time.’

‘Hope?’

‘Yes,’ said Sophie, as she loaded the drinks on to a tray, ‘that’s my daughter’s name.’

I worked on my list while Sophie served up snacks and drinks to a slow but steady flow of customers throughout the morning and then pushed it aside to eat the bacon and avocado toasted sandwich she set down next to me.

‘Lunch,’ she beamed. ‘On the house, as a thank you for helping me think about all the ways I can make the café more popular.’

‘You are most welcome,’ I told her, ‘and thank you,’ I added as I took the first delectable bite.

The sandwich was divine and Sophie’s freshly made, secret recipe salsa which accompanied it, gave it an extra kick which cut through the saltiness of the locally reared bacon and enlivened the avocado perfectly. She had a real talent when it came to clever flavour combinations and I was looking forward to her new marketing strategy kicking in and more people finding Sophie’s Sunshine Café – which was the name she had settled on – for themselves.

‘I’m wondering if I should have an aquarium in here,’ she said when she came to collect my empty plate, ‘full of tropical fish. This place is such a contrast to what folk expect to find on the Norfolk coast, that I’m wondering if I should just run with the theme and take it to the next level.’

I could certainly confirm that it was different.

‘The next level sounds like an excellent idea to me,’ I agreed. ‘Especially if you keep making curried crab. That whole fusion idea is fantastic.’

Sophie’s beautiful dark eyes widened at my words and I wondered what other delights she was cooking up.

‘Can I have a sheet of paper from your notebook, Tess?’ she asked urgently.

‘Of course,’ I said, tearing a page out from the back.

‘What is it that you’re working on?’ she asked, once she had finished frantically scribbling. ‘You’ve been beavering away all morning. Are you writing a book?’

‘No,’ I laughed, ‘it’s for Sam, actually.’

‘Sam?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘He’s agreed to let me come up with some ideas for an evening of entertainment in the pub over the bank holiday weekend. We’re working on it together.’

‘Seriously?’ Sophie gasped.

‘Seriously,’ I laughed.

‘But won’t you be gone before then?’

‘Sam has said I can rent the cottage for a few extra weeks,’ I told her, ‘now I’m staying in Wynmouth until the end of June.’

‘My goodness,’ she beamed. ‘That’s wonderful news, but I have to say, I’m a little shocked.’

‘Shocked?’

‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘Sam was determined the cottage was coming off the holiday market. Whatever did you say to make him change his mind?’

‘Nothing really,’ I told her, my cheeks starting to burn. ‘I didn’t say anything.’

‘And now he’s letting you help out at the pub too . . .’

I hoped she didn’t think I’d set my sights on the friendly local landlord. George’s loaded comment had already suggested that he had ideas in that direction and I didn’t want Sophie joining in too.

‘Anyway,’ she thankfully carried on, ‘what have you got on your list so far?’

‘Not as much as I’d like,’ I said, happily grasping the change in subject. ‘To be honest, and I know you’ll hate me for it, but I would have loved to do an online search to firm up some of these suggestions. Unfortunately, I haven’t got my phone on me.’

‘Well, I suppose I can help you there,’ said Sophie, ducking down under the counter and then popping back up clasping a brightly coloured patchworked quilted bag. ‘You can use my laptop if you like. It would be good for it to get an airing before Hope comes back and tells me off for not using it.’

‘Goodness me, Sophie,’ I laughed. ‘You have a solution for everything, don’t you?’

‘More often than not,’ she smiled warmly. ‘More often than not.’

Chapter 7

Sophie very kindly said I could take the laptop back to the cottage if I wanted to and, even though the offer was both generous and thoughtful (classic Sophie traits, I was beginning to realize), I decided not to accept. I had really had to force myself to stay focused during the afternoon in the café, and I had still struggled to eschew my inbox and avoid social media. Left alone with the device overnight, I didn’t think I could trust myself not to give in to

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