LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter 3

      ‘Now you’re sure you don’t mind me popping out for a bit, Libby-girl?’

      Libby bit back an exasperated sigh and turned instead towards her father with a smile. ‘Of course not, Dad.’ Taking in the whiteness of the collar of his shirt half-trapped beneath the lapel of his best jacket, she cocked her head. ‘You look smart, got yourself a hot date?’ She’d meant it as a tease—though nothing would please her more than if her long-widowed father found a companion to share his life with—but regretted the words as an ugly flush mottled Mick Stone’s cheeks.

      Gaze dropping to the cap clutched between his fingers, Mick shook his head. ‘Nothing like that, lovey, just a bit of business. The accountant wants to discuss last quarter, the usual stuff.’ Libby relaxed. The books were all in order, but their accountant still liked to keep in regular contact. It was a personal touch she knew her dad appreciated. And just maybe the conversation would work its way around to plans for the future.

      Stepping forward, she eased the wayward point of his shirt collar free and straightened it before letting her hand drop to smooth over the rough tweed covering the big heart which had given her all the love a girl could ever have needed growing up. ‘Ignore me, Dad. It’s nice to see you looking smart, that’s all. Take as much time as you need. Eliza’s still at a loose end, so she’s going to give me a hand with lunch club.’

      Friday lunch club was a tradition her parents had started when they’d first opened their fish and chip shop on the seafront promenade at Lavender Bay. The tradition of eating fish on a Friday might have waned in popularity, but the pensioners still flocked through the doors for a bargain meal. Rain or shine, through the high heat of summer and the cold depths of winter, they turned up like clockwork and went away smiling with a small cod and chips, and a pot of mushy peas for those so inclined. What they lost in profits through the discounted price was more than covered by the return in numbers—and community goodwill.

      It was not lost on either Libby or her dad that for some of their customers, lunch club was a highlight of the week. Nobody was rushed through their order, and on warmer days such as that morning they put a handful of folding tables and chairs outside the front door for those who wished to linger and share their meal.

      Her father paled. ‘Oh, lovey, I forgot all about blooming lunch club when I made my appointment. I…I could put it off.’

      This time she didn’t hide her sigh. ‘Give it a rest, will you? I can manage the shop with my eyes shut. It’ll do Eliza good to do something other than mope about the place.’ Libby scrunched her nose. ‘That sounds awful. I don’t mean it like that, I’m just really worried about her. Nothing’s been the same since she came home.’ Eliza, one of Libby’s two best friends, had recently split from her husband and returned to live with her parents who ran The Siren, the main pub a few doors along the promenade from the fish and chip shop. Her other best friend, Beth, lived next door in a flat over the shop she’d inherited earlier in the year.

      Since leaving Martin, Eliza had been at something of a loose end and Libby worried that if she didn’t find her way soon she might think about leaving Lavender Bay again. Both she and Beth had moved away permanently following their university courses, leaving Libby alone. University had never been on the cards for her, not that she’d ever been that academically inclined to begin with. From the first moment the careers advisor had called her in to talk about the future, Libby had had only one answer: she would work alongside her dad in the chippy.

      Though the loss of her friends’ physical presence had sat on her heart like a stone, she’d never felt jealous of them. Lavender Bay was her home, and she couldn’t imagine herself anywhere else. This was where her mum was: in every grain of sand upon the beach; in the cry of the wheeling gulls high over the rolling waves; in the weft and warp of Libby’s daily routines.

      There was no denying her relief that both Beth and Eliza had returned to the bay, nor that she’d been completely lost without them. Oh, they’d each done their best to keep in touch with regular Skype chats and not-so-regular visits home, but it had only served to emphasise the difference between their lives. While they grew and expanded their life experiences through both successes and failures, like a fly suspended in amber, Libby’s life had remained resolutely the same.

      And then there was her dad. Mick Stone had always hung the moon and stars for Libby, and his quiet strength had been the rock she clung to through the maelstrom resulting from her mother’s painful illness and eventual death when Libby had been barely 13 years old. Her resultant teenage rebellions as she struggled to adjust to their new status quo had bounced off Mick’s solid frame without seeming to make a single dent at the time. It was only as she grew older that Libby had begun to come to terms with just how difficult she’d made things for him.

      Mick’s weathered face softened. ‘Poor Eliza, she’s been through the mill, hasn’t she? Let me get this business out of the way, and then I’ll pick up the slack here.’

      She snorted. He wouldn’t know slack if it pinched his nose. No one worked harder than her dad. Though she did her best to ensure they split the work as evenly as possible, he was forever

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