Page 24 of Don't You Want Me, Baby?

She sat there, sobering up as she listened for him leaving. When the back door closed behind him, she finally let out the breath she’d been holding. He’d called her Cherry again. It had been a while since he’d used his nickname for her freely as he did now, in honour of the cherry Danish he had started making, just because she’d told him it was her favourite. Now he used it all the time, and she loved the sound of it. Waited for his lips to utter it daily. She was so restless right now, sitting there in Tyler’s wake. She could smell his aftershave on her clothing. It lingered like his parting words. The look on his face when she’d told him what she wanted. Did she really expect anything different? What kind of man would have any other response, really? They weren’t even together. Sure, she liked him. A lot, but it was new, and fragile. If she was going to do this, she needed to go all in. Make the smart choices and, at least thisway, it was easier. Tyler didn’t want kids. Hell, he’d practically run out of the place at the thought. Maybe his ex had done a bigger number on him then she’d imagined.What was her name again? Lauren? Laurel?He never spoke about her, apart from alluding to the fact that the break-up had been messy.

Either way, it didn’t matter now. He’d gone, and she hadn’t changed her mind about her plans in the last half hour. She couldn’t go on like this. She knew she wouldn’t sleep. There was no chance of that, with her mind whirring. Looking at the clock on the shelf, she saw it was just after midnight.

‘Well,’ she said to the empty room. ‘Happy fecking birthday to me.’ When she spotted her laptop, she took a swig of water, and fired it up. She was going to hit her thirties running.

Opening up her business plan, she read through what she had written months ago. It was pretty good; even with her tequila goggles on, she could see it was going to be hard for the bank to turn down. She felt excited, until she decided to read her emails. There was one from the council and, when she opened it up, her heart sank. When her grandmother had passed, her friend Denise, who worked in the planning department, had pulled her aside at the funeral and told her that she would do anything she could to make sure that the Arms would be there waiting when she was ready.

She read the words over and over, willing them to make sense, to disappear.

So happy to hear you’re finally doing it, but I was surprised that you don’t plan to keep it as a pub. I’m sure your grandmother would be happy, either way. An eatery sounds swish! Good luck to you and Bradley! Planning don’t have a meeting until the end of August, so I’ll be in touch. Remember, you didn’t hear it from me.

Have a great birthday!

Love, Denise

‘What the… Bradley is going after the Arms?’

She read it over and over, wracking her brain. Why the hell would he do this? They had never talked about the Arms being anything but hers. She thought back to the last few months. His pulling away, furtive phone calls. He’d been struggling to find a good venue for a while, wanting something in the heart of Hebblestone. Well, he’d obviously found it. He’d strung her along until he got the planning go ahead. Once he had that, the investors would pony up the money… and the Arms would be his.

She thought of his face when she’d given him an ultimatum. The way he’d walked away so easily. Talked of things he couldn’t pull back on. He’d just assumed she’d go along with it, because she’d listened to him about holding off on her plans.

‘He… played me. He strung me along ’til it was too late.’ He’d never cared what she wanted. He’d just looked at the Arms as an opportunity. For him. ‘God, I took him there. I’m so stupid!’

Pulling up a fresh email, she clicked on his address and started typing.

This is war, Sloane.

11

‘A bit to the left,’ she shouted up the ladder. ‘Shazza, hold it tight, I can see it wobbling!’

Sharon groaned, gripping the tall, metal ladder tighter as Tyler stood at the top, a banner in his hands.

‘Under New Management’ was written across the white canvas in huge, golden font, matching the metal sign above it.

Fitzpatrick Arms – fine ales and home-cooked food

‘That’s it!’ She grinned, and Tyler tightened the rope.

‘You sure?’ he bellowed down to her. ‘Cos I’ve moved it twenty sodding times!’

‘Yes, yes!’ She laughed, standing back as her two friends came to join her. ‘Look at it,’ she beamed. The place was perfect. Colourful hanging baskets hung from evenly spaced hooks around the wooden trim, making the cream rendered walls look all the better and brighter. The banner finished off the look, with the gold and silver balloon arch around the door and the sandwich chalk board off to one side. ‘Opening day specials’ waswritten across the black surface, Tyler’s neat hand detailing the delicious-sounding dishes underneath. ‘Can you believe it?’

Sharon laughed, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. ‘I can, mate. You deserve this, after everything. You’ve worked hard.’ People were starting to walk up to the entrance and, as Sharon pulled away, she shot her a wink. ‘I’ll go see to them, get the drinks sorted.’

She was left outside with Tyler, taking in the people she’d known for years, and new faces, all talking and laughing as they headed into her new home.

‘Proud of you, mate.’ She turned, and bumped into him in more ways than one. ‘Oh! Sorry. Geez, you’d think I’d get used to being a wide load.’ Her pregnant belly had well and truly popped, and she cradled her bump out of habit. Tyler laughed, putting his hand on her tummy and pulling her in for a gentle hug.

‘You look beautiful. You always do to me,’ he breathed into her ear. ‘Amber?’

‘Yeah,’ she said, lost in his embrace, the tickle of his aftershave and scented words in her ear.

‘Amber,’ he said again. She could hear a banging noise in the distance. Bang bang bang, like rapid fire.

‘Yes, Tyler?’

Bang bang bang bang.

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