Page 30 of Love from Pretty Beach

James, the barman, overheard. 'Yeah, you'll want to order the lamb quickly. First come, first served, you know how it is and that bread and butter pudding is almost walking down the laneway on its own.'

Archie turned to Darby and joked. 'This is clearly a matter of some urgency. Shall we secure our lamb before it disappears?'

'Absolutely. I have to try both dishes.'

After putting their order in, they gathered their drinks and walked through into the small, snug area.

As Darby walked to her seat, she loved the place.

A built-up fire roared from a huge old fireplace, beautiful, worn timber tables were tucked on either side, an asleep Labrador took up most of the space on a rug by the fire and a huge old fisherman’s basket groaned with logs.

Each table was topped with a small lantern with a candle flickering inside, the walls were covered in old black and white pictures of Pretty Beach and a gigantic mirror over the fireplace threw little twinkles of light around the room. Life had been worse.

Darby appeared to be fine on the outside, or at least that’s what she hoped.

On the inside, it was quite a different story.

As she eased herself down onto a chair, she felt all kinds of oddness.

Archie clearly didn’t feel that way at all.

In fact, he was totally and utterly at ease in what he was doing, saying, and probably thinking.

A penny dropped. Of course, unlike her, he obviously went out to dinner all the time.

This was on the regular for him. Unlike her, this wasn’t a big deal in the slightest. It was just dinner and a few drinks in the pub.

A regular old end of the week catch-up and getting to know someone he’d recently met.

It wasn’t special at all for him. Oh my actual Christ, this wasn’t even a date!

There was no specialness going on in his body, no zooming of blood, no heart threatening to undo itself and gallop down the road.

There was nothing going on inside him and especially not in that little spot sitting just behind the rib cage on the left.

Darby forced herself to take in what Archie was saying, but really, she couldn’t concentrate as it dawned on her that she’d totally got the wrong end of the stick.

What an idiot. Accomplished people like Archie went out to dinner all the time.

Darby tried to bring herself back into the room.

'So, how are you getting on with the kitchen demolition?

‘I’ve sanded the wall down and I am very pleased with myself. I’ve also spent a large chunk of my savings on a range cooker, which has finally arrived and is in place. It got lost somehow, but now it’s in.’

‘Oh, wow, you don’t mess around.’

‘I’ve not been able to cook a roast for a while, so I had a fair bit of urgency around that.’

‘What sort of a range cooker?’

‘Umm, one that looks fancy but in actual fact was very reasonable. I would have liked an Aga, but we can’t always have what we want is what I tell my children on repeat.’

Archie raised his glass. ‘My kind of parenting style.’

Darby touched her glass to his, surprised to find that her nerves had dissipated somewhat and she was having a nice time.

When she'd seen his genuinely pleased expression when she'd arrived, she’d told herself that she’d stay for dinner.

Voicing her thoughts without thinking about it, she immediately regretted it. 'Cheers. I’m glad I came.'

Archie frowned. ‘Me too. What have you been up to? Any incidents in charity shops lately?’

‘Gosh, that was awful. I felt like an overturned beetle. Honestly, it was all Anna. I didn’t even want to try the coat on.'

'There was something almost poetic about the image of you on the floor when I walked in the door.'

As they sat and chatted about all sorts, Darby felt not only strange and weird there was something else: a sort of veiled excitement feeling.

As if she were a tad hyper. She hadn’t felt it for so long that it engulfed her.

She was nearly jigging. As they chatted about this and that, the Grade II listed wall, how she loved living in Pretty Beach, and how she was going to get the bathroom renovated, Darby wanted to hug herself.

Hooray, hooray, hooray. She was actually having a nice time.

The man she was out with so far had not thrown up any red flags that he was a serial killer.

So far, he appeared normal. He wasn’t slagging off an ex, making weird suggestions about kinky sex or informing her that he preferred women who looked a certain way.

Picking up their glasses and asking him what he wanted to drink for her round, his hand touched her arm.

As the tiny touch of their limbs initiated what felt like a jolt of electricity zap through her, Darby Lovell felt like she might fall over.

Telling herself she was ridiculous, pathetic and sad all rolled into one, she made her way to the bar.

Just after she got back from the bar, their food arrived.

Gorgeous roasted vegetables, rosemary potatoes and a little jug of gravy.

'This looks incredible. Honestly, it was the same the first time I came here all those moons ago. No one even takes any notice of it and expects it even. I’ve never been to a Michelin-starred restaurant and I have no intention of going to one, but I assume this fits in with that.

I love real food and this always hits the mark. '

‘I know. I think it’s how Pretty Beach has always run. It’s almost like a competition with everyone trying to outdo one another all the time.’

'Yep, that’s so it.'

Every single thing about the LO thing in Pretty Beach was entirely justified as Darby popped a forkful into her mouth.

The lamb was tender and the flavours out of this world.

The vegetables had been roasted to the point where they were caramelised to perfection and the rosemary potatoes were crispy and fluffy within.

All in all, everything was delicious. 'Good God. This is extraordinary. I've heard rumours about the Christmas menu in here. I suppose you’ve had it, have you? I’ve never managed to get in. ’

Archie took a sip of beer. 'I’ve had the full Christmas dinner a few times. Apparently, people book tables in January for December. It’s like getting tickets for Wimbledon. I’m surprised they don’t do some sort of lottery.'

As they both tucked in, the chat continued.

So much for only staying for one drink; she was actually having a nice time.

The conversation was easy, the drink good and the atmosphere cosy and soft.

Her companion outstanding. In actual fact, she was so relaxed, she'd forgotten that she was on what was technically a date.

'So, tell me about this kitchen situation a bit more.'

Darby felt a bit embarrassed. ‘I finally got fed up with living in limbo. When I initially moved in, I’d intended on getting going with it all right away. I just hadn’t realised how exhausted I would be, I suppose.'

'It’s a big thing moving house. Was it a mess when you moved in?'

'No, not a mess. The previous owners were lovely. I kept telling myself I'd get around to changing things eventually. However, eventually never came, and I was stuck living with orange pine cupboards and flowery wallpaper.'

Archie nodded. 'I know that feeling, although it was years ago.

When I moved back to Pretty Beach, I rented a flat that was fully furnished and every single item was beige.

I mean the tiles, the carpet, the sofas, the rugs, even the bathroom suite.

It took me six months to realise I could actually change things, even as a tenant. '

'That's exactly it. Most things can be changed and it doesn’t even take that long. The cupboards in my place weren't just ugly, they were like a daily reminder that I needed to get my act together after, well, you know, after everything. Every time I looked at them, I felt like I’d failed.'

'I bet it feels better now.'

'Yes, and it didn’t even take that long! Honestly, why did I not start sooner? My next mission is to get started on the wallpaper in the sitting room and the garden.’

As they finished the lamb, they chatted away about all sorts. The conversation flowed very easily. When the bread and butter pudding arrived, James added a small bowl between them.

Darby frowned. ‘Ice cream?’

James nodded. ‘This is not your regular ice cream. Clotted cream ice cream via Lottie.'

Darby added a spoonful next to the pudding, tucked in and smiled across the table. ‘I don’t exactly have much room for this, but how could anyone say no? I’ll need to do a spin class tomorrow to work off the calories from the ice cream alone.’

‘I didn’t put you down as a spin class sort of person.’

‘I was joking. I’d rather poke my eyes out than go to any sort of class. The last time I did it, I had baby weight to lose and let’s just say it was not one of my better ideas. It did not end well.’

Archie put a spoonful of pudding into his mouth. ‘Well, this has been nice.’

Darby, as usual, spoke before she thought. ‘Yeah, it has. It's been rather a long time since I've done anything like this. To be frank, I'd convinced myself that I'd forgotten how to have normal conversations with attractive men over dinner.'

'Am I the attractive man in the scenario?'

Darby bantered back as quick as a flash, trying to cover her tracks. 'Don't let it go to your head. I have to say, though, I didn’t really expect you know, well, for you to, I don’t know, go to the pub with someone like me.'

'Someone like you? And that person is?'

'Over forty, complicated history, prone to domestic disasters and yeah, I do not have my ducks in a row. To be honest, I’m not exactly what most men are looking for in their dating profiles.

They always say they want someone fun-loving and are looking for zero complications and all that old tosh.

I mean, really? Who doesn’t have complications if they are on a dating site in the first place?

Sorry, I don’t know why I’m mentioning dating apps.

They literally make me shudder. Once bitten, twice shy. '

‘I’m hearing you.’

Darby swiftly changed the subject, wishing she hadn’t blurted out anything.

Her stomach was doing a complicated fluttering thing and the blood again rushed here, there and everywhere.

Archie almost swam in front of her eyes.

The alcohol, her emotions, and the warmth made her feel dazed.

Archie was either an exceedingly good actor or he was funny, charming and so laid-back he was almost horizontal. She wanted to get into his bed.

By the time another round had been suggested, Darby was in up to her neck. She’d fallen deep and hard, and oh, how glorious it was wading around in it. So nice. She wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but she did know that she was feeling something she hadn’t in a long, long, long time.

As it dawned on her that the thing she was feeling started with “H”, she swallowed. Good God! She was happy, yes, that was it. As the room continued to swim in front of her eyes, it swirled around her. Happy, happy, happy. Clap, clap, clap.

There was only one problem in the distance, rearing its ugly troll-like head.

It was probably all too good to be true.

Because, of course, this could not be real.

This Archie character was ever so good-looking, ever so nice, younger than her and ever so baggage-free on first encounter.

That alone, unfortunately, told our lovely Darby that there had to be a catch.

No doubt she would find out, by hook or by crook, soon enough.

For now, she’d continue to wade around. It turned out that having a happy evening wasn’t too hard after all.