Read Online The Beach Cafe by Lucy Diamond - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lucy Diamond
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had an image of the beach in my dream the night before. The glittering water, the cool blue morning, the calmness that had descended upon me. I gripped my pen, unable to bring myself to move it across the paper. I didn’t want to be here any more. Amber was right. Life was too damn short.
‘It is with great pleasure that we . . .’ he droned, then looked up and noticed that I wasn’t doing anything. ‘Miss Flynn! Are you listening?’ he snapped. ‘Have you written a single word yet?’
I stared him full in the face, hating him. ‘No,’ I said softly. ‘I haven’t.’ Adrenaline spiked through me, and then the music from Working Girl suddenly started up in my head, Carly Simon singing ‘Let the river run . . .’, the chords swelling louder, stirring me into action. Sod this for a life. I’d had enough of being a working girl, if it meant putting up with creeps like Davis. I chucked my pen and notepad onto his desk.
‘I quit,’ I told him. ‘You are the most disgusting and vile person I’ve ever had to work for. You repulse me, you and your . . . your sweaty hands and your horrible froggy eyes.’ Yikes. I wasn’t quite sure where the froggy-eyes bit had come from, but they looked as if they were about to explode out of their sockets right now. I stared him down. Moral high ground – I owned it. ‘So I quit,’ I said again, turning away, nose in the air. ‘You can shove your job somewhere painful.’
‘Miss Flynn !’ he spluttered, but I didn’t wait to hear the rest of it. I walked out, head high, straight back to my desk where I wasted no time in turning off the PC and gathering up my possessions. My phone started ringing, and the intercom was flashing, but I ignored them both. Not my job any more.
Jacqueline appeared by my side like a heat-seeking missile. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ she snapped. ‘Bit early for lunch, isn’t it?’
‘Get stuffed, Jacqueline,’ I replied. ‘I’m off. You’ll have to get a new skivvy from now on. Oh yeah, and by the way, I’ve left something in the cupboard for you.’ I indicated the spot where I’d dumped a huge armful of filing earlier that week. ‘Have a nice life.’
‘Wait!’ she shrieked. ‘You can’t just walk out!’
‘Watch me,’ I said, and swished past her, right out of the door before she could argue.
My heart was galloping, I was shaking all over and my breath was coming out hard and fast, as if I’d just run up six flights of stairs. Oh my God, Evie, I thought, as the cool air of the morning hit me outside. What just happened in there? What did you just do ?
I cycled over to Matthew’s office on the other side of town and phoned him. I was alternating between euphoria at having quit and shock at how quickly and theatrically it had happened. But nobody with an ounce of sanity or self-respect could have stayed on working for King Sluggo, especially after the take-down-your-knickers remark. You had to know your bottom line, as my mum might have (inappropriately) commented. And when that line was crossed, it was time to make a stand.
Well, I’d done that all right.
‘Hi,’ I said, when Matthew picked up his phone. ‘Fancy skiving off for half an hour so you can meet me for a quick coffee?’
There was a moment’s silence, when I could imagine him blinking in surprise. Silly me. Matthew wasn’t exactly the skiving type, and especially not on the spontaneous whim of his work-shy girlfriend. ‘I mean – you could call it your early lunch break,’ I put in helpfully, ‘or—’
‘What do you mean? Where are you?’ he asked.
‘I’m outside your office. Just – ’ Just walked out of mine , was on the tip of my tongue, but suddenly I bit it back. I knew a revelation like that wouldn’t go down terribly well, blurted out over the phone. ‘Just fancied a break,’ I lied.
‘Um . . . Well, I’m right in the middle of something,’ he said. He was still working with the same IT geeks from the Christmas
‘It is with great pleasure that we . . .’ he droned, then looked up and noticed that I wasn’t doing anything. ‘Miss Flynn! Are you listening?’ he snapped. ‘Have you written a single word yet?’
I stared him full in the face, hating him. ‘No,’ I said softly. ‘I haven’t.’ Adrenaline spiked through me, and then the music from Working Girl suddenly started up in my head, Carly Simon singing ‘Let the river run . . .’, the chords swelling louder, stirring me into action. Sod this for a life. I’d had enough of being a working girl, if it meant putting up with creeps like Davis. I chucked my pen and notepad onto his desk.
‘I quit,’ I told him. ‘You are the most disgusting and vile person I’ve ever had to work for. You repulse me, you and your . . . your sweaty hands and your horrible froggy eyes.’ Yikes. I wasn’t quite sure where the froggy-eyes bit had come from, but they looked as if they were about to explode out of their sockets right now. I stared him down. Moral high ground – I owned it. ‘So I quit,’ I said again, turning away, nose in the air. ‘You can shove your job somewhere painful.’
‘Miss Flynn !’ he spluttered, but I didn’t wait to hear the rest of it. I walked out, head high, straight back to my desk where I wasted no time in turning off the PC and gathering up my possessions. My phone started ringing, and the intercom was flashing, but I ignored them both. Not my job any more.
Jacqueline appeared by my side like a heat-seeking missile. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ she snapped. ‘Bit early for lunch, isn’t it?’
‘Get stuffed, Jacqueline,’ I replied. ‘I’m off. You’ll have to get a new skivvy from now on. Oh yeah, and by the way, I’ve left something in the cupboard for you.’ I indicated the spot where I’d dumped a huge armful of filing earlier that week. ‘Have a nice life.’
‘Wait!’ she shrieked. ‘You can’t just walk out!’
‘Watch me,’ I said, and swished past her, right out of the door before she could argue.
My heart was galloping, I was shaking all over and my breath was coming out hard and fast, as if I’d just run up six flights of stairs. Oh my God, Evie, I thought, as the cool air of the morning hit me outside. What just happened in there? What did you just do ?
I cycled over to Matthew’s office on the other side of town and phoned him. I was alternating between euphoria at having quit and shock at how quickly and theatrically it had happened. But nobody with an ounce of sanity or self-respect could have stayed on working for King Sluggo, especially after the take-down-your-knickers remark. You had to know your bottom line, as my mum might have (inappropriately) commented. And when that line was crossed, it was time to make a stand.
Well, I’d done that all right.
‘Hi,’ I said, when Matthew picked up his phone. ‘Fancy skiving off for half an hour so you can meet me for a quick coffee?’
There was a moment’s silence, when I could imagine him blinking in surprise. Silly me. Matthew wasn’t exactly the skiving type, and especially not on the spontaneous whim of his work-shy girlfriend. ‘I mean – you could call it your early lunch break,’ I put in helpfully, ‘or—’
‘What do you mean? Where are you?’ he asked.
‘I’m outside your office. Just – ’ Just walked out of mine , was on the tip of my tongue, but suddenly I bit it back. I knew a revelation like that wouldn’t go down terribly well, blurted out over the phone. ‘Just fancied a break,’ I lied.
‘Um . . . Well, I’m right in the middle of something,’ he said. He was still working with the same IT geeks from the Christmas
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