Chapter Six

P icking up her pace, she ran across the road towards Elsie's van and hurried around towards the driver's side. Just as she rounded the end of the van, she walked smack bang into someone and, looking up, realised it was Richie.

‘I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going.' She glanced down, hoping he hadn't spotted her tear-streaked cheeks.

‘No worries. Neither was I. Is everything okay?' He placed his hand on her forearm.

‘Yep, all fine. Great, actually.' Pulling the van key from her pocket, she jabbed at the button, willing to hear the gentle click of the doors unlocking.

‘Are you sure?'

She looked across at her arm. His hand was still there, his warmth still penetrating through her cardigan. She nodded again, feebly this time.

‘I'm just about to grab a coffee. Why don't you join me?' His voice was soft as he took his hand from her arm and pulled some keys from his pocket, before holding them up and nodding towards the pub.

‘You're going out.' She pointed to the canvas bag he was holding in his free hand.

‘Oh, I was going to grab a couple of bits from the shop, but any excuse to fill my stomach with caffeine and save me from spending...' He grinned and shrugged. ‘What do you say? Will you join me for coffee and rescue me from the chore of shopping?'

‘Okay.' Taking a shuddering breath in, she dried her tears with the pads of her index fingers as he unlocked the door and she followed him into the pub. Returning to the bar stool she'd been sitting on only minutes before, she pulled herself back up on it and pushed her used cold mug aside.

She watched as he switched the coffee machine back on and made the coffee, all the time giving her the silence she needed, not pushing her to talk.

‘Here you go, a latte, extra froth.' He smiled as he pushed the glass mug towards her before walking around the bar and sitting on the stool next to her.

‘Thank you.' As she took a gulp of her drink, she looked over the rim of her mug at him as he took a sip of his own, leaving a little milk froth on his beard. Picking up a napkin, she leaned forward and gently wiped it dry. ‘Milk froth.'

‘Ah, thank you. My mum's right, you know. She's always saying she can't take me anywhere without me knocking something over or making a mess.'

She smiled and folded the damp napkin, running her thumb across the edges to crease them. ‘My nan wasn't in.'

‘No?' He took another sip of his latte.

‘No.' Shaking her head, she sighed. ‘I'm sorry about crashing into you.'

‘Like I said, no need to apologise. It was likely me who knocked into you, anyway.' He looked at her, a deep crease forming between his eyebrows. ‘Can I ask if everything is okay? I don't want to pry, just to know if you're all right.'

Nodding slowly, she looked down into her mug. The bubbles on the latte were silently popping one by one. ‘I don't know. I mean I will be. I think.'

‘Right.' His voice was soft, unassuming.

Debbie glanced across at him. Meeting his eyes. What was it with him? She just wanted to tell him, to offload, to share what she'd been keeping to herself all these years. The guilt, the hurt, the pain. Biting down on her bottom lip, she felt her eyes well up with tears again. ‘I didn't come back to the bay after that summer because my parents were involved in a car crash and my dad... he didn't make it.'

‘I'm so, so sorry.' His voice cracked as he leaned forward, placing his hand on her forearm again. ‘That's terrible.'

‘This is the first time I've been back since, to the bay, to my nan's house.' She closed her eyes. ‘I just couldn't face it.'

‘That's understandable. I can imagine it must be difficult coming back to a place you used to visit with him.'

‘It's not that.' She shook her head vehemently. That wasn't the problem. She loved visiting, Warwick, the town she'd grown up in, walking through the park her dad had taught her to ride her first bike, paddling in the brook her dad had taken her and friends to, climbing the trees in the woodland her dad had climbed with her. ‘The bay, my nan's house, my nan's doorstep was where I found out I'd never see my dad again.'

‘That must be hard coming back then.'

‘Yes. I just feel so guilty. I've let my nan down. She tried so so hard to keep in contact but a couple of years after my dad passed away, we moved to Scotland and with one thing and another, I just...' Her tears were running thick and fast and she couldn't get the words out, she couldn't speak. Lowering her head to her arms, the wooden bar cool against her forehead, she let the tears, the emotions she'd tried so hard to contain release. In between sobs, she heard the scraping of wood against the floor as Richie stood up, felt his arms around her shaking shoulders as he pulled her towards him. She felt the circular motion of his hand against her back as he let her cry.

After what felt like half an hour of her crying on him, she pulled away as her tears stopped. She wiped her hand across his damp shirt. ‘I'm so sorry.'

Sitting back down on his bar stool, he picked up another napkin and gently wiped her cheeks. ‘She'll understand.'

Taking the napkin, she patted beneath her eyes. ‘I don't know if she will.'

‘Of course she will. You're her granddaughter.'

Nodding slowly, Debbie twisted the damp napkin in her hands. She hoped he was right. She looked up at him. ‘I think you've passed the test. I think you're a proper qualified bartender now. Complete with a degree in listening to over people's sorry stories.'

Sighing dramatically, he shook his head. ‘That's a relief. I don't know what I'd have done if I'd had to call my aunt and uncle back from their holidays because I'd failed.'

She smiled despite herself. ‘Seriously, thank you.'

‘Anytime.'

‘Huh, I'm hoping I don't have any more grandparents I've failed.' She shrugged.

Shaking his head, he looked at her. ‘You've not failed her. You know that really, don't you?'

‘Do I? That's how I feel. I didn't even tell her I was coming in case I chickened out at the last minute.' She watched as flakes of the napkin fell to the bar.

‘It's a big thing coming back to the place you were when your life changed. It's a huge deal. Don't be so hard on yourself.'

She glanced towards the clock hanging behind the bar and stood up. ‘I should go. I've skipped enough volunteering time and wasted your morning, too. The book club will be here any moment ready to celebrate and the last thing you need is some woman blubbering in the corner.'

Standing up too, he held his hand out for the rest of the napkin. ‘You've certainly not wasted my morning. It's been amazing to see you again after all this time.'

Holding her hand over his, she unclenched her fist and watched the pieces of napkin fall to his palm. ‘You too. And thank you.'

‘No problem. See you around.' He walked across to the door with her and held it open.

‘Yes, see you.' She paused in the doorway, suddenly not wanting to leave. As she looked across at him, their eyes locked. He'd been so kind. He was so easy to talk to and after all this time, she could still remember the way he'd made her feel the summer they'd met - he'd made her feel special. They'd only been young, and they'd only been friends but back in a time when she'd been second-guessing her every move during secondary school, she'd been able to be her true self with him. Blinking, she shook her head and walked towards the van.