Finding Love at Sunset Shore, page 14
A damp and dishevelled Cameron was standing there with a bicycle hanging off one shoulder and holding a rucksack and bin bag in the other.
‘Whatever’s happened?’ she asked, feeling a little exposed in her PJs.
He took a deep breath. ‘My housemates had a vote and they’ve kicked me out.’
For a moment she was relieved – at least they hadn’t been rumbled. But instantly she realised Cameron was in distress. ‘Come in,’ she said, stepping back as the bicycle wheel tilted in her direction. ‘I don’t think your housemates can do that.’
‘Well, they have.’ Cameron lifted the bicycle off his shoulder and looked around for somewhere to put it down. He propped it against a kitchen cupboard. ‘I got home to find all my stuff outside with a note saying they would let me off the rent as they didn’t need my contribution but they couldn’t live with my moaning anymore.’
Ros hadn’t seen him look down before. His usual smile no longer etched in place, he was a sad sight. She got him a beer from the fridge and joined him on the sofa. She grabbed a cushion and hugged that in an attempt to cover up her pyjamas. ‘Darla said you were tidying up after them a lot.’
‘Cheers. I was. I suppose I did grumble about it though.’
‘That’s understandable. I expect they’ll miss you when they realise they’ve got to tidy up themselves.’
‘They won’t bother.’ He took a swig of his drink and sighed.
‘So what now?’ asked Ros.
Cameron slowly turned to look at her. ‘I was kinda hoping I could stay here for a bit.’
Chapter Nineteen
It had been a long while since Ros had had a man stay in her apartment. She’d felt put on the spot the previous evening but she could hardly turn him away, especially as it was raining and he had a flat tyre. He’d helped her make up the spare bed and had thanked her a number of times.
There had been no sign of him when she’d got ready for work so she began writing a note but everything she put made it sound like she was asking when he was leaving. It was something they hadn’t discussed. She screwed up her third attempt and decided she would text him during the day to ask how everything was going.
As soon as she was outside, she called Darla. It was early but Darla would already be coming to the end of her shift as a cleaner.
Thankfully she picked up straightaway. Unfortunately she also started speaking. ‘Hiya,’ said Darla. ‘If you’ve found the stand for the telly, I’ll love you forever. I can’t get the bloody thing to stand up on anything. At the moment it’s on the floor propped up against the chimney breast at such an odd angle I have to kneel on the sofa to see the screen properly.’
‘Darla, that is a minor issue.’
‘Not to me it’s not. Don’t get me wrong, I am hugely grateful. Even viewing daytime telly like a meerkat will be a bonus. But I’m not sure it’s worth the TV licence. You see—’
Ros was struggling to find a gap. ‘Darla! Please listen.’
‘Sorry. What’s up?’
‘Cameron turned up at mine last night with all his worldly goods. His housemates have evicted him and now he’s staying at mine.’
‘Poor Cameron. They were a right bunch of Hurray Henrys. That’s good of you to put him up.’
‘Little choice really. I felt obliged. But it was also the right thing to do.’ Conflicted didn’t really cover how she felt.
‘I guess he doesn’t have anyone else in the city apart from me,’ mused Darla.
‘He did say he’d considered asking you but seeing as Netley Marsh is quite a way out when he only has a bicycle with a flat tyre as transport, it wasn’t feasible last night.’
‘Also I only have one actual bed. You have two. So definitely the right choice.’
Ros wobbled her head; she wasn’t convinced. ‘You do have three spare bedrooms, even if they’re lacking beds, and you have a large sofa,’ said Ros, thinking out loud.
‘It’s frowned upon to sublet properties while you’re house-sitting,’ said Darla.
‘It would hardly be subletting. A friend sofa surfing wouldn’t get you into trouble, would it?’
‘Are you trying to dump your boyfriend on me?’ Darla laughed.
‘He’s not my boyfriend. He’s a stand-in, as well you know. And not dump exactly. It just feels awkward him being here.’ Although she had to admit she even felt a little like that when Darla stayed. Perhaps Ros had just spent too long living alone.
‘Ahh come on, it’s Cameron. He’s a sweetie. And we know he’s tidy. That’s what’s got him booted out by the rich kids.’
‘But still – sharing your home with a virtual stranger feels weird. I’m hoping he isn’t planning on staying long.’ And by long she meant more than a couple of nights.
‘Don’t be hasty,’ said Darla. ‘He’s not a stranger and the more time you spend together can only help make you seem more authentic as a couple. I reckon he’ll be a great housemate.’
‘But for how long?’ Ros was aware her voice was a few octaves higher than usual.
She heard a noise that sounded like Darla was sucking her teeth. ‘Students usually go home June or July time so he’ll probably get a new house share around then.’
‘But that’s months away!’ Ros’s voice had reached a whole new pitch.
Her dilemma was on Ros’s mind all day and she was aware that she had been a little abrupt with a couple of people, which was against her new policy. As soon as it was noon she fired off a well-composed text to Cameron:
Good afternoon, Cameron. Hope you slept well. How has your day been so far? I hope you are managing to resolve your issues. Ros
There was no immediate response so she went to get her lunch from the office fridge. Berlinda was stirring a Pot Noodle.
‘Hello, Berlinda,’ said Ros, before rummaging in the fridge. ‘I was thinking of getting out a plate, or should I stick with my Tupperware?’
Berlinda snorted a laugh. ‘I don’t know how that happened. But no hard feelings. Yeah?’
‘Indeed,’ said Ros, thinking murderous thoughts, which was technically different.
‘How’s that cute boyfriend of yours?’ asked Berlinda.
‘Very well, thank you for asking.’
‘Does he have any brothers?’ Berlinda made an unattractive snorting noise.
Ros liked straightforward questions especially the ones she knew the answer to. ‘No, he has an older sister.’
‘Shame. He was quite the star of the barbecue.’
‘Was he?’ Ros wasn’t sure how she felt about that comment. A little pride perhaps?
‘Yeah. Most of the admin team were drooling over him.’ She leaned closer, and Ros had to stifle the urge to move the same distance away. ‘The thing none of us can figure out is how you landed him. I mean no offence or anything.’
How could you not take offence at that? Berlinda and her coven obviously had discussed them as a couple and decided that Cameron was out of Ros’s league. Annoyingly it now made Ros consider it too. They were the same age. She currently had a more lucrative job although he would hopefully secure something of a similar calibre when he graduated. Ros realised Berlinda was most likely more focused on looks – they were a shallow bunch. Cameron wasn’t classically good-looking but he certainly couldn’t be described as ugly. She didn’t know where she would class herself in the looks department – it wasn’t something she thought about. Cameron had certainly tidied himself up since their first meeting. He had a strong jawline and an almost constant smile. A little off-putting at first but she was getting used to it. Ros rarely smiled.
Right at that moment she made a point of pasting on a smile. Now to answer the question. She took Cameron’s advice of being comical so as not to be in conflict or cause offence. ‘He offered me a screaming orgasm. How could I resist?’ she said.
Berlinda looked like she’d been hit in the face with a spanner and Ros resisted the urge to wave a hand in front of her eyes to check if she was still functioning.
‘It’s a cocktail,’ clarified Ros when there was no response other than the shock on Berlinda’s face. ‘He works in a bar,’ added Ros. It definitely lost something when you had to explain it.
Ros’s phone pinged. A timely response from Cameron. ‘That’s him messaging me now,’ she said.
Berlinda seemed to recover. ‘Oh right. I see . . . still doesn’t really explain it. But then it takes all sorts.’ She forked up a heap of noodles and chewed thoughtfully.
‘There you go then,’ said Ros, now keen to escape. She grabbed her Tupperware box from the fridge, waved it at Berlinda as if it were evidence and exited the break room. On her way back to her desk she read the message from Cameron.
Good, thanks. I got my tyre fixed and some uni work done. Loving the peace and quiet here. Hope you’re having a good day. See you later.
Ros read it a number of times. There was definitely no mention of him moving out. In fact he seemed quite settled. After mulling over a number of possible responses she went with:
OK
Ros unlocked the apartment door and was immediately met by a delicious aroma. She scanned the kitchen area and was pleased to see the bike had gone. Cameron was standing over the hob, stirring with one hand and his mobile in the other. ‘Okay, Gina. I’ve gotta go. Yeah, you too.’
Cameron turned in her direction. ‘Hiya,’ he said, shoving his phone in his pocket. ‘Your timing is perfect.’ He left the cooker, took a bottle of white wine from the fridge and poured a glass for Ros. ‘Dinner will be ten minutes. Kick off your shoes and relax – or whatever it is you usually do.’
‘I usually make dinner,’ said Ros, feeling quite thrown by the change in routine.
‘Not tonight. I thought I would cook you my speciality – paella – to say thanks for letting me stay.’
‘That’s very nice of you and really not necessary. But now you’ve brought it up I—’
‘This is such a great apartment. I am so grateful for you letting me crash here but we need to agree on rent. Would it be too weird to say take it off what you’re paying me?’ He pulled an awkward face.
‘To calculate that we would need to know how long you will be staying.’ There, she’d broached it.
The kitchen timer sounded and Cameron raised a finger. ‘Hold that thought. I need to serve up.’
Ros sipped her wine. It was perfectly chilled and she noted he must have bought it specially even when she had bottles in the rack. She glanced around. There wasn’t anything out of place. Even when Darla stayed some of her things migrated into the main living area – odd things like her hair straightener and socks. She watched him plating up the meal he’d clearly cooked from scratch. She was frequently tired when she got in from work, but the pre frozen batches of lasagne and chilli had become a little humdrum. What was it Darla had said? Don’t be hasty. Maybe she had a point.
They sat down to eat.
‘How was your day?’ asked Cameron.
Ros was surprised by how much the question threw her. She couldn’t remember ever having this sort of domestic chat. Her last boyfriend had been keen to tell her all about his day, the highs and lows and how brilliant he’d been, but showed zero interest in her job. ‘It was okay. Berlinda seems to think you’re out of my league.’
‘Blimey, she’s blunt. And I disagree; I’d be punching well above my weight with you. How’s the meal? Is it okay?’ He was watching her carefully.
Ros was impressed. ‘This is really good.’
‘Special family recipe,’ he said.
‘Paella is Spanish. I thought you said your family has Italian ancestral roots?’ she asked.
‘I did but this is nothing to do with that. Nan picked up one of those recipe cards in Sainsburys but over the years we’ve tweaked it a little. I’m glad you like it. There’s more where this came from.’
Ros eyed the pile on her plate. ‘Oh I have more than enough, thank you.’
‘I meant I have a few other DeFelice dishes I am a dab hand at that I’ll rustle up while I’m here.’
‘You’re thinking of staying for a while then?’ The prospect was seeming less daunting somehow.
‘Only until I sort out a new house share. I put some feelers out today so hopefully someone will have a spare room when they take up their new rental agreements at the end of term. Shouldn’t be more than a few weeks. End of July tops. If that’s okay with you.’ He paused to judge her reaction.
‘I think that will be fine,’ she said, having another mouthful of paella.
Chapter Twenty
Darla was having an altercation with the rooster. When she’d finished cleaning out the animals there was a cupcake with her name on waiting for her in the kitchen. The cockerel was getting more bolshy and despite Darla trying to stand her ground he was quite intimidating when he came at you beak first with feathers flapping. ‘Eek!’ she squealed, darting behind the henhouse.
‘Ahh . . . the master at work,’ said Elliott. She wondered how long he’d been lurking there. Darla stood up straight and pulled her shoulders back but at the same time kept a close eye on the chickens and one in particular.
‘Mistress would be more accurate.’ Although as soon as she’d said it, it conjured up thoughts of adultery, which was not the image she wanted to portray. ‘Anyway how can I – whoa!’ The cockerel was on the attack again. Darla dashed for the exit and took a few pecks to her calves as she fumbled her escape. Once out of the chicken run she was faced with Elliott’s smirking face. ‘And you could do better could you?’
‘I did all right until you arrived,’ he said with a certain smug lift of his chin.
Darla had wondered who had been looking after the animals in between Horace dying and her moving in. ‘Any top tips?’
‘You can let the chickens out from time to time.’
‘Nice try. Are you trying to get me fired?’
‘No. I’m serious. They like to stretch their legs and they’ll find a variety of bugs and things to eat, which are good diet supplements.’
‘But they’ll fly away and then I’ll be in deep . . .’
Elliott was proper belly-laughing and Darla was lost as to why.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘Chickens can’t fly,’ said Elliott, clutching his side as he was gripped by a fresh wave of hysteria.
‘Yeah they can. The big boy one definitely can.’
‘The rooster,’ he said as the laughter faded to a broad grin.
‘Yes, I know. Him. He flies at me all the time. Did you not just see him do that?’
‘Okay. But a couple of feet is literally as high as they can get. They can’t take off, so they won’t fly away. And if you want another tip, you need to stand your ground with The Captain.’
‘With who?’ asked Darla.
But Elliott was already pointing at the strutting rooster.
‘I didn’t know they had names,’ she said.
‘Horace only named him and the goats. He didn’t like to get too attached to something he would later be eating.’
Darla grimaced. ‘He ate his pets?’
Elliott laughed. ‘They’re not pets. They’re livestock. Your chicken korma looks a bit different when it’s on your plate, but this is how it starts. You knew that right?’
‘Yes. And I’m not a big fan of Indian curry by the way.’
‘Nor me. I prefer Thai.’
‘Me too,’ said Darla. ‘Tell me what the goats are called.’ She walked around to their pen and he followed.
‘Dusty, Panda and Nibbles,’ said Elliott as he pointed first at the white one that looked like it had grubby knees, next to the black and white one and then the brown one with a white line down its face. ‘And these . . .’ he pointed at the three predominantly black ones ‘. . . are Curly, Larry and Moe.’
‘Sorry I missed which was which.’
‘I don’t know exactly. And if I’m honest, I don’t think Horace did either. But it’s okay because they’re not like dogs – they don’t respond to names.’
‘Good, then at least I won’t offend anyone. Any sign of Winston?’
‘I was coming to ask you the same thing.’
‘Elliott, I’m sorry. You must be so worried about him.’
Elliott gave a quick shrug but Darla could see the concern on his face. ‘He is a wanderer but he’s never been away this long before. He has a favourite food, maybe I could drop some down to you in case he’s hanging around here somewhere.’
‘Sure.’
Elliott checked his watch. ‘I’d best get back.’
‘Of course,’ she said.
Elliott turned to leave.
‘Oh and Elliott, thanks for the advice,’ she added.
He nodded before walking away.
***
It wasn’t warm but for early April it was sunny and in between fluffy clouds, the sky was an unexpectedly brilliant shade of blue. It gave Darla an idea. If she could set up her phone to film her with an upstairs window behind her, she could pretend to be literally anywhere. As she hadn’t video-called her parents for a while she decided it was worth the effort of rigging something up. A phone call with them was nice but she missed them. It would be good to see them even if it was only on a screen, and they were always keen to see her too and worryingly they were increasingly interested in her surroundings.
It took her quite a while to work out what she could stand her phone on. She could have held it but that wasn’t ideal as she was prone to gesturing with her hands and she needed to be careful not to reveal too much, so a carefully angled shot was safest. Also she had decided to elaborate on her genius idea and go for a full costume change to aid the deception. She’d been lugging around her beachwear for six months. She’d packed a few nice bikinis and some colourful sarongs, none of which had seen light of day, thanks to her not getting any further than Southampton docks.
