Page 20 of Check Me Out

Bless him, he smiled shyly. “Socially, I mean. There’s a lot I want to know about you.”

“Ya think?” I waggled my eyebrows but my heart wasn’t really in it. And to be honest, it probably wasn’t the time for more jokes. Marcus’ earnest look didn’t waver. It was like he reallydidwant to talk to me about things, not just find the nearest bed.

He leaned in, exactly as if we were about to kiss.Be still, my beating heart!

“Do it,” I breathed. To hell with passing customers. Kingsmere may have been a small town, but I bet most of them had seen worse.

The muffled boom was a surprise distraction, and we both froze.

“Do I hear thunder?” Marcus murmured against my cheek.

This was a Special Moment for us, but I didn’t think I’d ever affected the weather before. “Maybe a pallet tipping over?”

Then…

“Fire!” someone yelled from outside the store entrance. “The barbecue’s on fire!”

8

Marcus

We dashed back outside to find a confusion of people milling around the barbecue, the air full of loud, excited voices. Shanaz was hopping up and down, waving her hands, which didn’t seem to be helping anyone. Flames flickered several inches above the grill, and had caught the edge of the rubbish in the nearby bin. Two kids were wrestling for possession of their dad’s coat, apparently to suffocate the flames, while their dad struggled equally hard to keep hold of his precious clothing. Lina was already fast approaching from the store with the fire extinguisher.

But first, there was Mr G, shaking up another two-litre bottle of YBB’s Value-Range lemonade, ready to spray it over the flames like champagne at the end of a Formula 1 championship. He seemed to lose focus—or maybe he lost his footing in his floppy sandals, which would certainly explain his contribution to the gazpacho disaster yesterday—because, as the top popped off the bottle, the fine mist of soda arced in the wrong direction.

Right towards us.

“Pips!” I cried, but there wasn’t much either of us could do. As I watched, mesmerised, Mr G tottered to a halt, the lemonade gave one last, brutal, farting noise, and spewed its contents all down Pips’ front. It swamped him from his chin down tohis hips, and all points in between. He yelped; Mr G grunted, suddenly realising he’d lost control of the whole thing; and Lina gave a cry of horror. Someone at the back of the group of customers gave a hoot of laughter.

I bet that was one of those kids wrestling with their dad’s coat.

Pips’ mouth was open, his eyes wide, his face scarlet. He plucked his sodden tunic away from his pecs, but just held it there; he didn’t seem to know what else to do. He looked like he was barely holding his temper, and—oh God—it looked like there were tears threatening.

“Sorry, Pips!” called Mr G. He looked truly regretful. Lina had him by the arm, like he was going to make a break for freedom. I reckoned poor Mr G wasn’t going anywhere fast, not in those sandals.

“Take Pips to the staff room,” Lina hissed to me. “I’ll sort this lot out. Both the barbecue and the peanut gallery.” She was rolling up her sleeves as I carefully guided Pips back into the store ahead of me.

It took a couple of hours to douse down the barbecue, remove the bin, and mop the pools of lemonade that gathered on the uneven paving outside. I knew this because Shanaz kept popping her head back through the staff room door to keep us informed, and to gaze at Pips with an expression of equal awe and horror. The twentieth time she tried to talk to Pips, I took a step towards the door—to tell her exactly how little she’d be talking if I got my hands on her and, by the way, how come the fire started while she was in charge of the barbecue?—but then I saw a firm hand grip her by the ear and yank her back out into the hallway. Raised voices followed; the louder of them was Lina’s. Shanaz didn’t bother us again.

Pips had hunched down on one of the plastic chairs we used at break-time. I mopped him down as best I could with any towels I could find—most of them coloured pink from yesterday’s gazpacho incident—but he was still rather damp. He refused to take off the YBB tunic, maybe thinking it’d soak up the worst of the damage, but I could see drops of soda hanging like tears from the bottom of his beautifully fitted trousers.

“Tamara says you should go home now and recover. I think she’s worried it’s all been too much for you.” I paused, not sure how he’d take my next comment. “She said I should make sure you get home safely, and then I could take the rest of the day off too.”

“Bet she hadthat smileas she said it,” Pips muttered. “The one that looks like she drew it on with a 2H pencil.”

He was right. Tamara had been very tight-lipped.

I protested, “It wasn’t your fault. It looks like Shanaz jolted the gas tap back on while she was cleaning it. Then a half-lit cigarette end was tossed by a careless smoker towards the bins, but fell into the barbecue instead—and that was all it needed.”

“I should never have left it unattended.” Pips looked up at me with an expression somewhere between pitiful and furious. “I told you it hadn’t been my year, didn’t I? I’ll be honest, this is my fourth job in nine months. I only got it because Lina recommended me. I’m pretty sure Tamara will now berecommendingI move on again.”

“Oh no, she won’t,” I said. Because if she suggested it, I’d have a strong word in the right quarters. I wasn’t going to let Pips suffer for other people’s mistakes. “But I thought you said you were only here temporarily?”

“I should have said, until I get fired. It’s what happens,” he said morosely. “I act up, I don’t pay enough attention, I don’t really commit to anything. So, now it looks like I’m useless in retail. Same as I was useless in hospitality at the hotel in town. Or in accounts at the council. Or in construction—”

“Construction?” I blurted out. He was strong enough, but so pretty… Or was I stereotyping him?

“Yeah, exactly.” He’d caught my reaction. “I broke three nails the first day I was at the yard, and I had to stop driving the forklift—”

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