Page 47

Susie slipped a twenty-pound note in the Try Again till.

‘This is me, officially buying the ‘ladette’ T-shirt. I love it too much as a look and I want to keep it forever as a memento of what we achieved yesterday. I mean, you were the hero, Tee, but I had a sort of Robin charm alongside your broody Batman.’

Temperance nodded from the office doorway. ‘Don’t suppose in all your gratitude that you want to invisibly mend the gingham dress for me so I can get it out on the rack?’

‘You’re not keeping it?’ Stevie sounded crestfallen.

Temperance shook her head. ‘It’s a beauty – a rare beauty.

But I won’t have another dressy occasion to wear it to for .

. . a million years. It’s a bit fancy for your average speed-dating night.

And who knows what kind of chaotic energy it’s clinging on to?

It might inspire me to start more random fires in woodland.

’ She gave a hollow kind of laugh. ‘Suse can do a cleaning ritual, then I’ll mend it and it can go out on the shelf and find a new, merry little life. ’

‘If you say so.’ Stevie turned back to the display she working on: a chunky woven tapestry of vintage belts, using a peg board and a lot of imagination.

Checking her phone for the hundredth time that hour, Susie huffed and put it face-down on the cash desk. ‘Why won’t he text me?!’

Her big sister let out a low whistle. ‘You. Are. Smitten.’

‘I am not! I’m just on edge about how it went at the council office. He could so easily just drop me a little message to say it’s all done.’

‘Or maybe he’s still in there right now, and being respectful to their workplace by staying off his phone? I’m sure he’ll be in touch when he can. Mark doesn’t seem like the gameplaying type.’

Susie puffed out her cheeks. ‘It’s not . . . not about games, or us . . . it’s about the preservation order, and the next steps of the campaign.’

‘OK,’ Stevie sing-songed with a sarky edge. Her British sense of humour was sharpening by the day.

Temperance noticed from the way her little sister hugged her own shoulders that she was feeling exposed. ‘Sorry, we’re just teasing. But in all seriousness, I love this laser focus you have for getting the preservation sorted. It’s very cool.’

‘Well, thanks,’ Susie mumbled.

The shop doorbell chimed. ‘It’s done!’ Mark appeared in the doorway, his hair tussled and his eyes slightly wide, as if he’d just seen a ghost. When in fact he was smack bang in front of a coven. ‘The application is submitted and I told the family.’

‘Oh my god.’ Susie rushed over to hug him and he lifted her off her feet, spinning her around.

As he put Susie down, Mark kept one arm around her waist and put her other hand to his cheek. ‘I feel . . . liberated! ’

Susie searched his face. ‘Are you sure? How did they take it?’

‘My dad barked out “bloody hell” and my mum said “goodness”, which is pretty colourful for repressed rich people. They didn’t chuck me out on my arse or anything.

They also didn’t exactly fight me when I handed in my resignation.

But . . .’ he frowned, ‘I knew I didn’t belong there anymore.

In some ways, it was like I’d already left.

You know, in my heart. And I want to be the kind of person that takes risks, follows their instincts.

’ His looked straight at Susie and his smile picked up again, all the way to his ears.

‘But now the preservation process has kicked off, and we’re going to see it through!

No one is coming for East Prawle while I have breath in my body. Step one: we celebrate.’

‘Celebrate? I was hoping we could go over some ideas for the campaign? I think we can squeeze in a charity surf competition in early September, if we get going quick enough. An old mate of mine in Woolacombe will lend me loads of boards, I’m sure Margie would love setting up a beach bar for the day and we could call the papers, maybe get a few local celebs down .

. .’ Susie was ticking ideas after ideas off her fingers.

‘How about we plan while we celebrate?’ Mark suggested smoothly. ‘Afternoon tea at The Harbour Hotel over in Salcombe. On me. Well, to be accurate: on the Beston portfolio account there before my parents take me off the signature list. We’ll toast and plan and brainstorm and eat scones.’

‘Scones!’ Stevie squeaked from the back wall.

‘Everyone is invited, of course!’ Mark added. ‘I’ve got enough lifejackets for all of us in the rig, we can be there in twenty minutes, sinking our teeth into clotted cream.’

Stevie blushed, ‘I didn’t mean . . . you don’t have to . . . ’

‘A quintessential afternoon tea must be on your English adventure bingo sheet, Stevie,’ Temperance nudged.

‘Why not? The Harbour is mega fancy. I bet their cucumber sandwiches will be unforgettable. You deserve this experience! Besides, we could all do with a little treat after the last few days, don’t you think? The, er, weird storm and everything.’

Susie squeezed Mark’s arm. ‘What if we bumped into someone from your old office? Or your family?’

He shrugged. ‘I’m not running and hiding.

I haven’t done anything wrong. Besides, someone very wise once told me that if my family can turn against me over something like this, they’re not all that great a family to have.

’ Mark leant forward and kissed her briefly.

‘And the little chocolate gateaux slices they do at the hotel are,’ he made a throaty growl, ‘so good.’

Temperance scribbled on a piece of paper on the cash desk. ‘Let’s go then!’

They grabbed their bags and headed out the door, Temperance locking it behind her and sticking up her hasty sign: Shut for afternoon tea. Cream then jam xxx