Page 10 of Toy Boy

“My boss – Megan… You spoke to her, this morning. Do you rememberher?”

“Yeah, I remember her.”

She rolls her eyes again. “But you don’t remember me…” She says that almost to herself, her gaze dipping briefly. “Anyway, she said you were in town for the summer.”

“I am. I’m looking after the surf shop for a couple of months.”

She looks back up at me. “A working holiday?”

“Kind of.”

“Your accent…” She squints a little, almost as if she’s trying to size me up; work me out. “Definitely not from around here.”

“No, I’m not.”

She doesn’t need to know where I’m from.

“I’m going to hazard a guess at somewhere Scandinavian. You look Scandinavian.”

“Do I?” I arch a brow, the corners of my mouth inching up into a smirk.

“Yeah. You do. So, you’re travelling, huh?”

“Like I said, kind of… Areyoufrom around here?” Getting her to talk about herself might distract her from trying to find out shit about me.

“Beachcastle Bay born and bred.” She leans back against the counter and downs a mouthful of beer. “I did manage to escape for a while, though. I went to college in Brighton, and I’m hoping, in the next couple of years, to move to London. My dream is to open my own café one day, specialising in desserts, but I need to get some high-level training under my belt first.” She downs another mouthful of beer. “I only came back to the bay to make a bit of money, and gain some experience while I’m looking for the perfect opportunity down south.”

She’s given away far more about herself in a few seconds than she was ever going to get out of me, but she seems happy to talk about herself. I’m not.

“You’re a chef, then?”

She nods and smiles. “Well, that’s what I aim to be, eventually. A pastry chef. And Megan, she’s been great, letting me try out my own recipes at the café so I can…” She smiles again and shakes her head. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear about my grand plan.”

“No, please, go on. You’re obviously very ambitious.”

“Well, my dad was a chef, so, I guess that’s where I get my love of food from.”

“And this café you want to open? Would it be in London?”

“To be honest, ideally, I’d like it to be somewhere on the coast. Somewhere like this. Like Beachcastle Bay. I want it to be small, intimate, and informal. A place where people can hang out and meet up and…” She shrugs and jabs the side of her forehead with her finger. “It’s all up here, in my head, my grand plan. But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see how it all pans out. In the meantime, though, Megan’s been kind enough to give me a job atFlowers, and let me gain some experience of working in a real kitchen, knowing full well I won’t be there forever.”

“She’s a good boss?”

“Megan? Yeah, she’s cool. She’s like a mum and a best friend all rolled into one, everyone loves her.”

Everyone, huh?

“Well, I only got to talk to her for a few minutes this morning…” I leave that sentence hanging and glance around the bar. It’s filling up now, and it’s getting dark outside, but there’s a small, decked terrace out front lit up by a plethora of solar lights, there’s plenty of space out there. “Has she owned the café long?”

“A few years. I think she wanted something to do, initially, because her then-husband worked long hours…” She suddenly stops, as though she’s just realised she’s offering up information about someone else now. Information she probably shouldn’t be sharing with complete strangers. “I’m sorry. Probably shouldn’t be telling you any of that.”

Not sure it’s me she should be apologising to, but I don’t think she’s done anything wrong. It’s not like she’s given away state secrets or anything. “It seems like a great place. It’s certainly popular, even that early in the morning.”

“That’s down to Megan. She startedFlowersfrom scratch, all on her own; knew exactly the kind of place she wanted it to be, and she’s turned it into this really cool hang-out. I’m lucky to be a part of all that.”

I throw her a smile before I pop the last of my burger into my mouth, and wash it down with the final dregs of beer.

“Are you going already?” she asks, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

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