Meet Me at Pebble Beach. Bella Osborne

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Meet Me at Pebble Beach - Bella Osborne


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yes, that’s it.’ They listened together. ‘Can you hear what they’re saying?’ Regan gave a slow and slightly bewildered shake of her head. Kevin spoke along to the pigeon’s tune. ‘You can’t do it, Kevin. You can’t do it, Kevin!’

      Regan would have laughed if Kevin’s face hadn’t been etched with horror. ‘Come on,’ said Regan, helping him up. She needed to find him somewhere away from the wood pigeons; all the scraps from the market must have drawn them in from The Level, so they’d be there for a while.

      They walked until she found him a wall to sit on. ‘There are no birds here.’ She gave him the drinks. ‘Here.’ The dog was now slathering wildly and had not left her side.

      Kevin’s eyes darted anxiously about and then he seemed to relax a little. She sat next to him while he sipped his drink.

      ‘Not seen you this week. You been on holiday?’ asked Kevin, now seemingly almost back to normal.

      ‘No, I quit my job.’

      ‘For a better one?’ Kevin tilted the milk cup for Elvis and he wolfed down the contents.

      ‘Er … no. I’m in between jobs. But it’s okay.’ She nodded and Kevin nodded too.

      ‘I wouldn’t want to be cooped up in an office.’ He was staring straight ahead. ‘I enjoyed working in the fresh air too much. The smell of the sea.’

      Regan was curious. ‘What line of work were you in?’

      ‘Engineer.’ His voice had taken on a clipped tone.

      ‘Did you enjoy the work?’

      Kevin looked at his scarred hands. ‘Yeah, most of the time.’ He snapped his head back. ‘Anyway, thanks for this.’ He held up Elvis’s empty cup.

      ‘You’re both very welcome. And thanks for taking care of me the other day. It was kind of you.’

      Kevin shrugged a shoulder. ‘Ditto.’ They smiled at each other. ‘Well, carpe diem.’

      She figured that was her cue to leave. ‘You too.’ Seeing Kevin kept reminding her that she was only one more bad decision away from being on the streets herself, and it scared the life out of her.

      Charlie was watching the door when she returned and looked relieved to see her. She sat down and picked up her drink. ‘That’ll be cold by now, let me get you a fresh one,’ he said, getting up from the table. She noted his empty cup. ‘I need another coffee anyway.’ She didn’t argue.

      He returned with the drinks and a couple of muffins. She went to protest but he waved it away. ‘I was hungry. Okay?’

      ‘Okay.’ She picked up the cake and began eating. It tasted divine but it crumbled everywhere. She could see Charlie was amused by it. So unlike Jarvis, who would have been on level two tutting by now.

      ‘So,’ he said, when he’d finished eating his, ‘are you coming back to Mantra?’

      She tilted her head to one side. He was one big incentive to go back, and not just because of the free muffin. He was very easy on the eye and, from what she could tell, he appeared to be totally lovely to the core. It was hard not to compare him with Jarvis. He was so much more easy-going. And he was patient. There was no way Jarvis would have waited in a café on his own like Charlie had done. Charlie was generous too, she thought, whilst she savoured her muffin. He was so much more fun than Jarvis. She liked the easy rapport they’d quickly developed.

      So was she going back to Mantra? ‘Yeah, I think so. It was a bit weird but I liked it.’

      ‘The trick is to practise. It’s like any new skill; you need to keep doing it and you’ll get better.’

      ‘How long have you been doing it?’ She noticed his eyebrows twitch. It had been ages since she’d flirted, and it was like flexing a little-used muscle. She popped the last of the muffin in her mouth and mourned its end.

      ‘Five months. I miss a few because of shift patterns but I’m usually there most weeks.’ Now she knew where she’d be most Saturday mornings too. ‘What’s new with you?’ He looked bright with anticipation and she hated to bring down the mood.

      ‘Not a lot. I’ve been looking for a job but it’s tricky with no WiFi, no computer and no fixed abode.’

      His expression changed to concerned. ‘You said you had somewhere to stay.’

      ‘Yeah, I do, but it’s a friend’s business premises. Living there is against the rules and she doesn’t know I’m doing it. It’s all a bit precarious.’ When she thought about it she got a bit panicked so she sipped her drink to try to distract herself.

      ‘Did you know the computers at the library are free to use?’

      ‘Thanks, that’s good to know.’

      ‘Look, Regan. I know we’ve only recently met, but if you’ll let me I’d like to help you get back on your feet. What happened to you was really …’ He looked like he was searching for the right word.

      ‘Shitty,’ she offered.

      He laughed. ‘Exactly. What do you say? Will you let me help? No strings.’

      Right now she could do with people she could trust on her side. He’d been right about the mindfulness and it couldn’t harm to have a police officer on her side. Especially one with such a long list of positive attributes. ‘Sure, why not?’

      ‘Okay. Let’s have a look at local jobs.’ He scooted his seat round to her and cosied up, and she noted he smelled of aftershave and coffee. He pulled up a website on his phone. ‘HGV driver? Maybe not.’ He eyed her cheekily.

      ‘You don’t know. I might be qualified,’ she said, making him tilt his head in question. ‘I’m not, as it happens, but I do like a Yorkie. Next.’ She leaned over his screen and got another whiff of aftershave. This was a good way to spend a Saturday.

      ‘Sous chef or carpentry lecturer?’

      ‘A bit niche.’

      ‘Recruitment consultant. How ironic,’ he said. ‘Assistant drainage engineer?’

      She wrinkled her nose. ‘What’s a production operative?’ she asked, touching the screen. They both read the details together. Picking, packing and labelling boxes. It wasn’t glamorous but it was probably the only one she didn’t need qualifications or experience for. He took a screenshot of the details, they swapped full names and phone numbers and he sent it to her. She typed his name in next to his number – Charlie McGee.

      Chatting with Charlie was making her feel buoyed and ready for action. She’d had a great time with him but now it was time to leave. As they were exiting the coffee shop, a man the same size and shape as the doorway loomed over him. Regan feared there was about to be trouble.

      ‘Hey Debbie, what you up to?’ he asked.

      Regan was confused. Had he mistaken her for someone else? But, before she could question him, Charlie spoke. ‘Hiya, Beanstalk,’ he said. ‘Beanstalk, this is my friend Reg.’

      Regan didn’t argue; everything was already too strange. ‘Nice to meet you, Beanstalk.’

      ‘You too, Reg.’ He gave an unsubtle head tilt in her direction and winked at Charlie.

      ‘Bye, Beanstalk,’ said Charlie, slapping the large fellow on the back when they passed in the coffee shop doorway.

      Beanstalk turned back for a second. ‘Hey, Debbie, I heard you got a bollocking from the station commander about Thursday’s shout. Tough call,’ he said with a wince, before disappearing inside.

      ‘You wanna tell me what went on there … Debbie?’ asked Regan, failing to hide her amusement.

      Charlie screwed his face up. ‘It’s a work thing. Pretty much all of us have nicknames.’


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