Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92668 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92668 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
I wondered if it was because we had independent shops and not chains. If we wanted something from one of the stores, we had to actually go and get it, not just order it online.
I mean, I knew a few of the stores had a website you could order on, but you still had to… you know. Go and get it yourself.
Archaic? Perhaps. But I kind of liked it.
As I walked into the coffee shop, I was reminded of why that was the case.
F*ckoffee was adorable. The inside was decorated in shades of a pinky-peach and lemon yellow, with the back wall a simple white. They were adorned with photos of coffee and beans and all things coffee shop-ish, for lack of a better way to describe it, and every table had a small glass vase with a single sunflower in.
There was even a big corkboard by the door with a pay-it-forwards scheme. I paused to look it over and saw every kind of order imaginable from a regular coffee to a vanilla latte, and some even had a cookie or muffin added on. A small note at the top told people in need to grab a note and take it to the counter for your order to be filled with no questions asked.
I loved them already.
It wasn’t busy—a fact I’d been counting on by not coming during the lunch rush—and so I was able to wander right up to the counter without having to wait in line.
Heather turned to me with a smile on her face. Her black hair was pulled back into a twist in a pale green crocodile clip, and a few wisps framed her dark eyes as she greeted me.
“Charlotte! How are you, love? What can I get for you?”
I couldn’t help but smile back at her. “Just a cup of coffee, please. And can I get one to put on the board?”
“Of course you can. I’ll just charge you for the board.”
“Oh, I can pay for both.”
She waved her hand at me as she turned. “Nonsense. Even if I hadn’t already promised you, I heard about that ridiculousness with the bed and breakfast. As if you could have murdered anyone.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Look at you. I’ve got a stack of five kilo bags of sugar in the back that wishes it was as sweet as you.”
I laughed, stepping aside as a woman walked up next to me. “That’s kind of you to say. Let’s hope the police agree with you.”
“From what I hear, Noah George does.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
I scoffed. “That was a long time ago.”
“I’m so sorry to interrupt you,” the woman who’d just approached said, looking at me. “I heard Heather mention the bed and breakfast. Does that mean you might be Charlotte?”
Discomfort flitted through me at the intensity of her gaze, and I took a small step back. “Yes, that’s me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She held out her hand. “Stephanie Tierney.”
Oh.
Shit.
She couldn’t have been much older than me. If I had to guess, I’d say it was five years at most. Her dark hair hung around her shoulders in loose waves—the kind that took much longer to do than they looked—but her eyes belied her grief.
They were ringed in red, shadowed by darkness, and just held that little shimmer of sadness that came from a deep-rooted place of tired pain.
I didn’t like her husband in our short meeting, but my heart ached for her.
I swallowed, shaking her hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs Tierney.”
“Please, call me Stephanie.” She brushed it off, clasping our hands with her other one. “And thank you. I was hoping to run into you sooner or later. Heather, I’d like to cover Charlotte’s drink, if I could. I’ll have a cappuccino.”
Heather nodded, and I opened my mouth to speak, but she gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head in my direction, and I shut up.
I’d come back tomorrow or later and slip a few quid to her for the board for another drink.
I didn’t feel right taking two free cups of coffee.
“Are you both having them to go?” Heather asked, pausing in front of the coffee machine.
Stephanie nodded. “Yes, please. Charlotte? I’d love to talk to you, if you’ve got the time.”
God, she was so nice.
How was I supposed to say no to her?
“Of course. To go is perfect, Heather, thank you,” I said.
Heather made our drinks and put them on the counter, accepted Stephanie’s payment, then gave me a reassuring smile as I followed the other woman out.
I wasn’t looking forwards to this all.
The coffee shop was on the end of the high street closest to the promenade, and Stephanie took a left towards the beach, and I fell into step alongside her.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said after a moment of silence.