gave her her best apologetic smile. ‘Well done. That’s great, Cleo. Anything else?’
‘Yes, I’m looking up the next course. I asked what it was and they said takoyaki … which is … oh my goodness.’ Cleo went quiet and Regan imagined her going pale at the other end.
‘What is it?’ called Penny over Regan’s shoulder. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t bear the suspense.’
‘Octopus balls,’ replied Cleo in a watery voice.
Regan chortled and then stopped herself. ‘Maybe now would be a good time to tell them you’re a vegetarian.’
Penny gave a belated laugh.
‘Who’s that?’ asked Cleo.
‘Sorry, gotta go,’ said Regan. ‘Good luck!’ She felt a bit guilty as she hastily ended the call.
Regan was apprehensive sitting in the market manager’s office opposite Bernice, who was glaring at the two jam jars. They looked a little prettier since Regan had spent her break tying raffia round them and sticking on labels. Regan wasn’t entirely sure what the end product would look like, but at least she’d made an effort. She’d not realised there was so much involved in producing something as workaday as jam.
Bernice prodded the top of each jar with her finger and the metal emitted a popping sound. ‘They’re not sealed properly.’
‘I already opened them to check they were okay. I mean good. You know, first class.’ Regan decided to shut up.
Bernice took a teaspoon from her drawer and tried the tiniest speck from each jar, wiping the teaspoon on a piece of kitchen roll in between dips. Regan held her breath.
Bernice studied the pots carefully. The anticipation was excruciating. ‘I was hoping to try the pina colada,’ she said at last.
Regan thought on her feet. ‘I did make a batch, but I didn’t feel it was up to the high standards I’ve set for myself.’ Bernice’s eyebrow gave a twitch of approval at this. Phew.
Bernice put down the teaspoon and locked eyes with Regan. ‘All regulations adhered to?’
‘Definitely,’ said Regan, making a mental note to investigate what those regulations might be.
Bernice held out her hand in a Paul Hollywood-style handshake. ‘Welcome to Brighton Open Market,’ she said.
Regan grinned inanely as she strolled back to the café. Her phone rang and she answered it with a song in her voice. The song soon died in her throat. It was the council wanting to arrange an inspection of her food preparation area. Shiiiit!
A few seconds later she was on the phone to Charlie.
‘Why did you give them my address?’ asked Charlie, sounding perplexed and possibly a little cross.
‘Because I panicked. Just like I’m doing now.’ Regan spun around on the spot. There was no way she could have given her dad’s address – there was still lava on the walls.
‘And why today?’
‘Because they had a cancellation and the sooner they do the check, the sooner I can sell stuff.’
There was a sigh from the other end. ‘Beanstalk is home but he’ll be asleep. He’s covering for someone at the moment so he’s on extra nights.’
‘How do I get in without waking him?’ asked Regan.
‘Come to the station and I’ll give you my key.’
‘You’re a superstar!’
‘Hmm,’ came the reply. Charlie didn’t sound like he agreed.
‘Thank you,’ said Regan, doing another spin, but this time it was a happy one – and something caught her eye. ‘Gotta go.’
Heading down a side street was Elvis’s tail. Regan jogged across the road and caught up with him. ‘Kevin!’ she called. Kevin whipped round and scowled at her. His body was hunched and he looked terrified. Elvis stuck his nose in her groin, dropped his bottom to the floor and stared at her expectantly.
‘What’s wrong, Kevin?’ She side-stepped Elvis and inched closer.
He covered his shaking head with his hands. ‘Hit. Hit. Hit.’
Anger shot through her at what those kids had done to him. ‘Nobody’s going to hit you, Kevin.’ Regan looked around for some help, but there was no-one nearby. ‘Come to the café and I’ll get you a coffee. Okay?’ She reached out a hand to him and he retreated. Elvis manoeuvred himself under her hand in the hope of a cheeky petting session. ‘Is Elvis taking care of you, Kevin?’
Kevin dropped his worried gaze to the dog and his features softened. ‘Good dog.’
‘Yeah, he is a good dog.’ Regan crouched next to Elvis and gave him some fuss. He was feeling thin along his flanks. ‘Shall we get Elvis some milk?’
‘Thank you,’ said Kevin, and as if it were an afterthought he added, ‘carpe diem.’ This was a very different Kevin to the one she had