Title: Turntable
Elsie frowned down at her small but neat handwriting.
Arriving at the first potential property that morning she'd proved to be a tad more organised and efficient than he. She'd produced a clipboard containing sales information and paperwork, with space on the page for her to make notes.
Only when they'd bid the real estate agent farewell did Charles relax. After he paid for and settled them into a pair of deck chairs with a beach view, he revealed the contents of the picnic basket he'd awkwardly clutched to his side since disembarking from the London bus.
"Did you cook all this?" Elsie asked as she delicately spread pate across a roll.
"Heavens, no!"
There was merlot and he dealt with its distribution into two plastic glasses smoothly before she had a chance to protest.
"It's all Beryl's doing. I wouldn't recommend you consume anything I scrape together," he joked.
She snorted softly, causing him to be momentarily dazzled.
His reaction to her mirth only emphasised that the questions he'd asked himself on the journey from London were rhetorical. He would take any crumbs Elsie Hughes threw his way. A business partnership? It wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind when he'd quit the restaurant but it would keep her in his life.
"I liked Brunker Road," he blurted out eagerly.
"There'll be some renovations required before we could accept customers."
"That could turn out for the best though. I could supervise, giving you a chance to work out a suitable period of notice at Haxby."
Just then her mobile phone vibrated. She glanced at the notification, but didn't attempt to make any reply. "Charles," she said, looking up, "I don't think this is going to work."
He sloshed a little red wine. "What?"
"I'm sorry. I've changed my mind."