Annie had started an Instagram page and already it was being tagged in carefully crafted customer photographs of cups of coffee with the ocean in shot: #coffeebythesea, #saltwatercafe, #beachlife. She wondered if John was on Instagram. She wondered if he had seen all the positive comments and beautiful pictures of the café and the stunning vista. She wondered why she cared.

—

It was gone three o’clock by the time Annie closed down the café. Tiggs raised her head briefly as Annie entered the sitting room, yawned, and then tucked it back under her paws. The air was stuffy; the autumn sun was high in the sky and the little room seemed to soak in all its rays. Annie threw open the windows and went to make some tea.

She returned ten minutes later to find Tiggs on the windowsill, her ears pricked up and the room filled with the sound of Peter Gabriel singing “In Your Eyes.” It was coming from outside. Annie crossed to the window and looked down. Max. He was wearing trainers, baggy cargo trousers, and a long tan trench coat with the sleeves rolled up. Above his head he held an old boom box out of which Peter Gabriel’s gravelly voice drifted up to her, while Max—uncharacteristically—said nothing, but gazed at her, hopeful and pleading as he re-created the iconic John Cusack window scene from Say Anything.

Max’s arms shook slightly from the effort of holding the boom box aloft. Two of Annie’s regular customers hurried by and pretended not to notice the grand gesture being performed on the promenade. Well, that’ll be all over the village in no time, she thought. Annie sighed; how could anyone fail to be moved by such a demonstration? But she knew that to give even an inch would be dangerous. When the song finished, Max pressed stop on the tape cassette, placed the boom box on the floor, and continued to stare up at her like a lovesick Romeo. Annie leaned out the window.

“You look like a crazy person!”

“Crazy in love with you!” Max grinned.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she muttered under her breath. “Come round the back,” she called. Max nodded but didn’t speak, picked up his boom box, nodded cordially to two women out walking their dogs, and moved out of her line of sight.

Annie opened the front door and sat down on the step; she motioned for Max to sit too.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” asked Max.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Max sat next to her. “Are you afraid you won’t be able to resist me if I come upstairs?”

He had that glint in his eye that used to make her melt. She knew that if she were to let him upstairs now, she would be in for a good time. She gave herself a mental slap.