'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. Tellingherself 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.'
