Read Bye Bye Love for Free Online Page B

like. And at Christmas we really went to town, holly and ivy and paper chains and everything. It looked really lovely. And people used to cycle out from Rochford, and even from Southend just to have a pint with us. My dad kept the best pint for miles around. Everybody said so.’
    ‘Sounds wonderful,’ Jonathan said politely. ‘A proper village pub. Very different from the Trafalgar.’
    He gazed out to sea, to where huge cargo ships were making their way up the Thames to the London Docks, deliberately avoiding looking at Scarlett as he asked the obvious question.
    ‘So why did you move here?’
    ‘Oh…well…you know…like you said, it’s different. A new start.’
    She tried to make out it was a good thing, but it didn’t quite sound convincing.
    ‘Right,’ Jonathan said. He knew just what was going on. He gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Parents, eh? What can you do with them? They say it’s all for the best and they’ve got your best interests at heart and all that sort of rot, but when it comes down to it, they never listen to you.’
    Scarlett hesitated, then said, ‘Too true.’
    In front of them, the beach was beginning to clear. Mums were packing up picnic baskets and cleaning sand off tired children’s feet, dads were folding away the deckchairs and searching for lost buckets and balls. Jonathan glanced at his wrist, realised he wasn’t wearing a watch and stretched across to take Scarlett’s arm, turned it slightly and looked at the time. The living warmth of her arm beneath his hand sent a hot thrill through him.
    ‘Thanks,’ he said, as casually as he could. ‘I left mine at home. No good wearing one on the boat, it might get ruined in the water. It’s gone half past six; shall we go back and get something proper to eat? The chips made a nice amuse bouche but I’m dying for a proper meal.’
    He could have kicked himself. It sounded so pretentious.
    ‘ Amuse bouche? ’ Scarlett questioned, her forehead creasing in thought. ‘Mouth amusement?’
    Jonathan laughed with relief. She hadn’t thought he was trying to get one over on her.

    ‘Well done. That’s more than most people know. It’s a French restaurant term. It means a little twiddly tasty bit before the real starter, or in between courses. Something to keep the appetite interested before the next main event.’
    ‘Yes, of course,’ Scarlett said airily.
    Jonathan screwed up his chip paper and lobbed it into the nearest litter bin.
    ‘Come on, the kitchen’ll be all ours now.’
    As they made their way back through the raucous crowds and close-packed heat of the Golden Mile, he tried to decide just where to take her. What was she going to think if they stayed in the staff kitchen? It was going to look really unfriendly, as if he thought she wasn’t good enough to be invited upstairs. But his mother was so adamant about not letting staff into their private quarters. Not that Scarlett was staff, of course, but that was stretching the point a bit. He tried to assess the odds against his mother coming in and finding them there. It was high season, and it was Friday evening, the second busiest night of the week. She should be run off her feet in the bar all night. But if she was to pop up for something…no, it just wasn’t worth the risk.
    By the time they arrived at the dark rear of the Trafalgar, Jonathan had made his mind up. He led the way to the staff kitchen, which looked out over the yard.
    ‘I’ll just run upstairs and get some stuff,’ he said. ‘You won’t have had time to do any shopping, will you, what with moving and all that?’
    ‘No, well, there wouldn’t be much point, would there? We’ve got nowhere to cook,’ Scarlett said.
    Jonathan was mystified. ‘But this is the staff kitchen. Didn’t you know that? You and Irma and Marlene share this.’
    ‘Oh…’
    He could practically see light dawning on her expressive face.
    ‘My dad must’ve forgotten to tell me,’ she said.
    ‘Yeah, right,’ he