A Date at the end of The Pier (Norman Landing Seaside Village Book 4) by Emily Harvale

Author:Emily Harvale [Harvale, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crescent Gate Publishing
Published: 2023-07-03T16:00:00+00:00

Nineteen

Thanks to Gio – and his Nonna’s magic potion, my skin is almost as good as new when I wake up on Sunday morning. He gave me a tub of the miracle cream before I left La Dolce Vita yesterday evening, together with the other half of the cucumber, which he’d stored in his fridge.

‘Smooth the paste over your face, close your eyes and cover them with cucumber slices, and then relax for at least five minutes,’ he instructed.

‘D’you want to come round and do it for me? I might not do it properly.’

I tried to persuade him with my best ‘puppy-dog’ eyes and he hesitated for a split second, but then he smirked.

‘You’re an intelligent woman. You’ll be fine. Repeat it tomorrow morning and again on Sunday night.’

I followed his directions and I can’t believe the difference. I could get away with not wearing any make-up today. But as I’ve got five dates, make-up is a must.

I soon discover the law of averages clearly does not apply to my dates. The ones today are slightly better than yesterday, I suppose, but not enough to make much difference.

I start the day with Alan and I think things are looking up. The only troubling thing about him is that he’s been married once already and then he was engaged. In both cases, no one else was involved with the break ups. He said he and his wife, and then he and his fiancée, just agreed they’d made a mistake. He’s either worryingly fickle, or he’s exceptionally unlucky in love. Other than that, he’s nice, but I’m not sure he has potential. Although they do say, “third time lucky”. Perhaps I could be his number three.

When we say goodbye, he doesn’t mention seeing me again, so maybe not.

I send a text to Gio telling him I’m fine, that I’m waiting for my next date, and that I’ll text him later.

Next is Owain. He’s built like a rugby player, but as gentle as a kitten – and he actually has a kitten, he tells me.

‘Cyril is a rescue and he thinks he rules the roost. He’s only three months old but he’s already seeing off my neighbour’s dog, although when my neighbour pops in for a cuppa and brings Calypso, his Great Dane, with him, Cyril jumps up on his back and rides him as if the poor dog’s a horse. And then they curl up together as if they’re the best of friends. I love the little guy to bits.’

‘He sounds wonderful,’ I say, and Owain pulls out his phone and shows me some pictures of Cyril, and of Cyril riding Calypso and also some of the two of them curled up together.

Owain seems to be interested in me and he asks all the right questions. He’s got a warm smile, a jolly laugh, and eyes that twinkle when he looks at me. I like Owain.

He works for the local council in Brighton in the planning department and he loves his job. He asks about mine and doesn’t appear at all concerned that I have to travel a lot.

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