Page 141 of You Float My Boat

‘Yeah. You don’t say.’

‘You could try a restraining order.’

My eyes flicked left and right. Based on their expressions both Oz and Brooks seemed to think a restraining order was a viable option. It wasn’t something I’d ever considered, though probably should have. If it was just me, I’d have left it because a restraining order felt too serious. Too over the top, like I couldn’t deal with problems myself.

But now my problem was affecting Violet, I was quickly reconsidering.

‘How long does that take?’

‘I dunno, d’you want me to ask my mum? She’ll be much better at this than me. She might have more ideas too.’

My face screwed tight as a cringe slithered up my spine until my shoulders were practically touching my ears. I wasn’t sure which was worse, that Oz and Brooks both snickered either side of me, or that Olly was being deadly serious.

Olly’s mum, or Lady Greenwood of St James as she was known professionally, was President of the Supreme Court of the United Kingdom. Therefore, was so far above the pay grade of any problems I was having with my ex-girlfriend, even the thought of her knowing the broad details was mortifying enough for me to stop this conversation dead.

‘No, Ol. Absolutely not.’

‘Are you sure? She’d probably quite enjoy it,’ he replied, which didn’t make me feel any better.

‘I’m sure. I’ll figure it out.’

‘Okay. Now what was this aboutThe Great British Bake Off?’

‘Charlie’s been thinking again.’

‘That’s what I like to hear … hang on.’ There was a muffled sound down the line, though none of us could make out what was happening. ‘Hey, I need to go. Send me some of Charlie’s baking thoughts, will you? I need something to get me through the mountain of holiday work I have.’

‘Sure, no problem. Thanks, Ol …’ but the line had already gone dead.

For the first time all week I felt like I’d achieved something. What that achievement was, I didn’t know. But at least the hopelessness churning in my stomach had disappeared.

Oz clapped his hands together. ‘So, the plan of action is research restraining orders. You’ll send your sonnet poem thing to Violet with her purple cupcakes, and Olly can have two dozen of the rest of these.’ He turned, pointing to the mountains of trays and cooling racks.

‘That will still leave us with approximately four hundred cookies and God knows how many cupcakes.’ I rubbed my head, hard. ‘What do I do with the rest?’

I hadn’t finished my question before Brooks was on the phone calling in the cavalry, loosely translated as the entire crews from Blue Boat and Isis. I just caught my phone before the two dozen message notifications in ten seconds almost buzzed it off the counter.

It flashed up with the last message.

Bitters:

I’ll bring the milk.

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