Archie pushed his sleeves up and picked up three of the carcass panels at once. Darby gulped. 'These are going in the wood store out there?'
'Yes, someone is coming for them tomorrow. I was just going to carry them out individually. They are heavier than they look. My arms feel like they've been stretched on some sort of medieval torture device.'
Archie laughed. 'These old things are properly made, not like the rubbish nowadays.'
'Correct. They were made to last.'
'What made you finally crack today?'
There was no way that Darby was going to tell Archie about the new thing in her life, her channel and that it was that which had nudged her into motivation. 'I don’t know. When I got up this morning, they greeted me and it was the final straw.'
Archie nodded in the direction of the empty wall. 'So, what's the plan?'
'Open shelving on a cream-coloured wall and lots of hooks. It needs lightening up.'
With Archie’s help, the rest of the cupboards and panels were out in the wood store in a jiffy.
As they stood outside, Archie brushed the dust off his hands. 'I'd call that a successful operation. It didn’t take long at all.'
'Thanks so much for helping. I was starting to think I'd bitten off more than I could chew.'
'Nah, it will look great in here. Right, well, I think we've both earned a drink. You reckon?' Archie checked his watch. ‘It’s the end of the week after all. I've got nothing planned except going home to stare at spreadsheets about lime mortar compositions.’
OMG! Am I being asked out for a drink by a star? **** my life! An actual movie-star-esque man is asking me to go for a drink. I might die. I need oxygen.
Darby looked down at her filthy clothes and dust-covered hands. 'I look like I've been in a fight with a building site.'
'It's late afternoon in Pretty Beach. The bar's going to be set pretty low...'
'I'd love a drink.'
'Perfect.’
Oh, you’re telling me this is perfect.
18
Darby looked in the mirror in the pub toilet and gasped at what looked back at her. In her old painting dungarees with a striped long-sleeved T-shirt underneath and a pair of battered boots she used to do the gardening, she was hardly looking her most scrubbed up. In a way, though, she liked that, because for sure she was real and the only way was up from where she was standing. To be frank, too, it was quite nice just to be makeup-free, comfy, a bit of a mess and totally and utterly herself.
Anyway, it wasn’t as if she was on a date or anything. Archie had only asked her for a drink because he’d probably realised that to get his job done would involve him having to liaise with her about the listed wall. Technically, with the right of way and everything, not having her onside would be a pain in his backside. Noting to herself that, yes, he was just trying to butter her up, she washed her hands and then pinched her cheeks in an attempt at making her look less corpse-like. Nodding, she tutted. Yes, of course, that was the reason he’d asked her to go for a drink, duh: to keep her sweet in case he needed to keep her on side.
A few minutes later, and slightly deflated, she was standing at the bar where a small half of beer was on the side and Archiehad a pint in front of him. He pointed to the small half glass. ‘Locals Only. Works for me.’
‘Lovely, thank you.’
Archie gestured to a chalkboard on the far side of the bar. ‘I don’t know about you, but I am ravenous. Do you fancy anything?’ He lowered his voice. ’The Locals Only chips are incredible.’
I fancy one thing for sure: you.
Darby also lowered her voice. ‘What makes them Locals Only?’ Locals Only was a peculiar Pretty Beach custom whereby certain produce in pubs, cafés and shops was specially made for residents and those who lived in Pretty Beach. Darby was well aware of its merits and had sampled Locals Only food all over Pretty Beach over the years. It never, ever let you down.
Archie laughed. ‘Well, I imagine they will be like nothing you’ve ever tasted.’
James, the barman, who had just finished serving another customer, overheard. He lowered his voice. ‘The potatoes are from the allotments and the vinegar is one of Lottie’s specials. Honestly, best ever.’
Darby nodded. She knew of Lottie, who ran a catering company in Pretty Beach and whose food and wares were often part of the Locals Only scene. If Lottie was involved, there was no need to contemplate further. ‘I’m in.’
Archie nodded and grinned. ‘Me too.’
