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A Season for Second Chances(118)

Author:Jenny Bayliss

“Well, there’s an easy cure,” said Greg. “He just needs to stop being such a bloody liar!”

“You’re not planning on becoming a psychiatrist, are you, Greg?” Annie asked.

“Life coach.” He grinned.

* * *

After half an hour’s walk, she was braced for the day. She let herself in by the café door, flicked on the lights, and made straight for the heaters. Five minutes later, with her hands thawing out nicely and the coffee machine grumbling into life, Annie began to take the chairs down from the tables and then she stopped.

The plate she’d left out for Alfred was empty, as was the thermos. A folded note next to the plate, written in a spidery hand, read, Thank you. Annie felt a stab of sadness at the thought she might never see him again. She wondered how he would get on today, hoped he would be able to settle in and accept the help that the shelter was offering. It was selfish of her to want to keep him in Willow Bay, but the crotchety old chap was as much a part of the Bay as the gulls and the craggy cliffs; with him gone it was like there was a piece missing from Willow Bay’s jigsaw.

* * *

By eleven o’clock, she still hadn’t heard from John. She knew he was taking Alfred to the shelter at nine a.m., and she’d been checking her phone ever since.

“He’s probably caught up in paperwork,” said Gemma. “You said he’s acting as Alfred’s next of kin, didn’t you? So there’s probably forms to fill in and stuff like that.”

“I guess so,” said Annie. “When’s Brian back?”

“Next Wednesday,” said Gemma. “He’s home for two months. I’ve learned not to say anything to the kids until a couple of days before he’s due back. They get so unbearably excited and high-strung that they stop sleeping and start having tantrums every fifteen minutes.”

“Crikey. Don’t worry, my lips are sealed.”

The door opened, and a gust of wind made the fairy lights swing and the baubles on the tree jangle. Annie looked over, hoping to see John. It was Max. Gemma made a show of pushing the bucket farther under the counter with her foot, and Annie had to work to tamp down her smile.

“Can we talk, properly?” he asked without preamble.

Annie looked at Gemma. All the tables were full, but they were up to date on orders.

“It’s fine, go,” said Gemma, making shooing motions.

“Come through,” said Annie.

She led Max through to the hallway and pushed the door not quite closed, so she could keep an ear on the café.

“Can we go upstairs?” Max asked.

“No,” said Annie. “Gemma might need me.”

“I didn’t really envisage doing this in a drafty hallway.”

“I’m sure you’ve done plenty of things in drafty hallways, Max.”

“I came to tell you that I surrender. You win,” he said.

Annie raised an eyebrow and waited for the catch. “I don’t think there are any winners in this situation,” she said. “I just want what’s mine.”

“I’ll buy you out. I’ve spoken to my parents, and they’re going to lend me the money. It’ll take a few weeks to get it sorted.”

Annie could hardly believe what she was hearing.

“I instructed a solicitor this morning,” he went on. “There’s nothing to contest. You’re only asking for what you’re entitled to.”

Annie raised her eyebrows. “Thank you, Max,” she said. When she darted a look at him, his eyes were glassy and brimming with tears.

“I am so fucking sorry,” he said with a quavering voice. “So very very sorry.”

“Okay, well, it’s done now. We can both move on.”

“Do you think we could ever be friends?” he asked.

“Don’t push it,” said Annie.

Max choked out a watery laugh, which immediately became a sob. “Can I have one last hug,” he whispered through his tears. “For old times’ sake.”

For crying out loud! she thought. “Sure,” she said. “One last hug. But no funny business.”

“No funny business,” Max repeated like a sobbing parrot.

Max reached out and pulled her into an embrace, clinging to her and making her hair warm and damp as he buried his face and wept into it. Despite feeling mild repulsion at being squeezed, she found herself rubbing and patting his back as though she were soothing a giant child, which, she thought, just about summed up their relationship. She thought she heard the door creak, but when she managed to loosen Max’s hold enough to move her head, there was nobody there.