Chapter Eleven

‘ Y ou'll pop over, won't you? For a proper catch-up?' After shrugging into her coat, Carrie hugged her.

‘Yes, looking forward to it.' Debbie smiled.

‘I still can't believe you're Florrie's granddaughter.' Carrie shook her head. ‘I remember sneaking through the hedge into your nan's garden so we could play first thing in the morning.'

‘Hah, I remember that too. Barbies at dawn! See you.' Debbie waved as Carrie and Daniel headed towards the door of the pub. Apart from Wendy and Teresa, the table was empty now everyone had enjoyed the last of their cocktails and had headed for home.

‘Come on then. My taxi is outside. I'll give you a lift Wendy. I can get the driver to drop you at the bakery on my way too, Debbie?' Standing up, Teresa yawned. ‘I'm definitely ready for my bed. I just hope Gavin's managed to get Pippa to sleep. She's been genuine horror at going to bed lately.'

‘Oh, Hudson's been the same these past couple of weeks. Maybe there's something in the water at the moment?' Wendy laughed. ‘I don't know how you do it with getting to the bakery for the morning baking every day.'

‘Oh, I make up for it on my days off. Sleep's more important than housework, right?' Teresa grinned and tucked her chair under the table.

‘Absolutely.'

‘Are you coming with us, Debbie?' Teresa looked across to Debbie. ‘Or are you staying to ogle Gerald's nephew a little longer?'

Feeling her cheeks pink, Debbie looked away from the bar and focused on Teresa and Wendy. ‘No, I'll walk, thanks though.'

‘Go on down and speak to him.' Teresa held her hand out towards Debbie. ‘Come on.'

Debbie grimaced. Did she? He'd said not to leave without saying goodbye, hadn't he? Taking Teresa's hand, she let her pull her up. ‘Okay.'

‘Good, good.' As they got to the bar, Teresa patted her on the back before crossing her fingers. ‘Good luck.'

Shaking her head, Debbie grinned. She hadn't had so much fun with a group of friends as she had tonight for ages, months, years, possibly. Each and every one of them had made her feel welcome again, just as they had when she'd first arrived in the middle of the bakery family dinner. They'd included her in conversations about the bay, things they'd been doing and their lives in general. She waved as Teresa and Wendy disappeared through the pub door and into the darkness of the evening.

‘Hey, had a good time tonight?' Walking across to the end of the bar she was standing by, Richie began clearing glasses which had been left there. ‘What were they wishing you good luck for?'

‘Oh, nothing.' Debbie shook her head. After drinking a few cocktails, she wasn't about to take the chance of attempting to make something up. It was better to change the conversation and answer his first question. ‘Yes, I've had a great time, thanks. The quiz was really fun.'

‘Huh, thanks.' Richie grinned and looked around the pub. With the other bartender in the back and the punters having left, they were the only ones there. ‘I'll miss this place when I go back home.'

‘Oh, of course. You don't live here, do you?' She slumped onto a bar stool.

‘Nope. Unfortunately not.' With the last of the dirty glasses loaded on trays ready to take through to the dishwasher, Richie picked up a cloth and began wiping the bar down. ‘And you? Will you be heading home after your stint at Elsie's?'

‘Umm...' She looked down at her hands before looking back up at him. ‘I'm not sure.'

‘No? You're thinking of staying down here?' A small sparkle appeared in his eyes. Or at least she thought it did.

‘Maybe. I've not really got much to head home for. I mean, my mum and stepdad are there obviously, and I'd miss them, but I left my job when my ex abandoned me and went into temping, so that's nothing I can't do anywhere.'

‘What about your home?'

‘I don't have a home.' She laughed. The miserable fact that had seemingly constantly played on her mind since she'd had to give up the rental she and her ex had been living in, somehow appeared to be a tiny slither of a positive instead. ‘I've been crashing in a friend's spare room for the last few months. And you know what? That might just be a good thing.'

‘A good thing?' Laying the cloth down, he placed his palms on the bar and met her eyes.

‘Yes, a good thing. You see, it gives me choices, doesn't it? Staying with a friend and doing temping jobs. It means I'm kind of free to decide what to do with my life. It gives me some breathing space.'

Richie slowly nodded. ‘I guess you're right. It does.'

‘And choices are a good thing, right?' She twisted around on the bar stool and held her arms out, encompassing the empty pub. She could almost hear her own words slurring. Maybe she shouldn't have had quite so many cocktails. Not that she'd had many, she just hadn't drunk alcohol in a while. ‘I mean, if you didn't have a girlfriend, house or job to go back to, just think you could stay here. Run the pub.'

Richie chuckled. ‘I can't do that.'

Twisting back around, Debbie shrugged. ‘Why not? It's your life. You can do anything you want to.'

‘No, I really can't. For a start, it's my uncle and aunt's pub. I don't think they'd be best pleased if I chucked them out.'

‘And the girlfriend back home. She'd miss you too.' Debbie trailed her finger in a sticky residue on the bar. It hadn't occurred to her to ask about a girlfriend yesterday when they'd been talking. She guessed she'd just been overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with running into him again all these years later and overwhelmed with everything with her nan. She hadn't even been thinking straight.

He chuckled again and picked up the cloth, wiping the sticky mess from the bar before giving her a sidelong look. ‘There's no girlfriend back home.'

‘Sorry, wife then.' She looked pointedly at his ring finger. Had he taken the ring off so as not to lose it when cleaning the pub?

‘No wife either. Not even a dog. A sad existence, really.' He grinned as he caught her eye.

‘Oh, that's a shame.' How daft must she sound? Crossing her arms on the bar, she lowered her forehead, hiding from his gaze.

‘Yes, a real shame.' He reached out and gently touched her forearm.

‘Hey, Richie. I'm off now. Unless there's anything else you want me to do?' The voice of the other bartender filled the pub.

Debbie quickly looked up as the other bartender walked through to the bar.

‘Nope, that's great. Thank you for all your help this evening.' Richie held the cloth up in a wave.

‘No worries. See you tomorrow.' Grabbing his coat from the coat stand by the door, the bartender left, letting in a blast of cold as the door swung shut behind him.

Shivering, Debbie stood up. ‘I guess I'd better go, too. Let you lock up.'

‘Will you have a coffee before you go?' Richie glanced towards the silent coffee machine.

‘A coffee?'

‘Yes, it'll warm you up before you brave the cold and give me a chance to finish tidying before walking you to the bakery.'

‘You don't need to walk me home. It's only a stone's throw away.' Debbie laughed.

‘Even so, it'd make me feel better and I wouldn't be half of the gentleman you think I am if I didn't.'

‘I don't think you're a gentleman.' Debbie covered her mouth with her hand. She hadn't meant to say that aloud.

‘Oh really? I'm hurt.' Holding his palm across his chest in mock-shock, Richie pulled a face. ‘What do you think I am, then?'

‘Haha, you may have everyone else fooled, but I can see you're still that cheeky kid I knocked over with my bike. Just in adult form now.' In gorgeous adult form. She watched as his biceps flexed as he leaned on the bar again, his face inches away from hers. At least she hadn't said ‘gorgeous' aloud. Or at least she was pretty certain she hadn't.

‘You know me too well, hey?'

Debbie nodded. He was so close; she could feel his breath on her face, his gaze locked with hers and she inched forward.

Stepping back, Richie rubbed his hand across his face and pointed towards the coffee machine. ‘I'll just get that coffee now.'

Blinking, Debbie tried to work out what had just happened. Hadn't they shared a ‘moment'? She'd been certain he'd been about to kiss her? Had she got that completely wrong? ‘Err, no, I need to get back. Thanks though.'

‘Really? Hold up and I'll walk you.' Richie switched the coffee machine off again and began walking around the bar.

‘No, it's all good, thanks.' Slipping off the bar stool, Debbie headed towards the door. ‘See you around.'

‘Wait...'

Stepping outside, Debbie welcomed the evening air cooling her cheeks as she closed the door to his voice. The last thing she wanted was for him to walk her home. She couldn't think of anything more awkward after she'd completely misread the situation. A walk along the beach to clear her head was what she needed now, not to have to make small talk with him, when all she wanted was for the ground to swallow her up.