Free The Runaway by Katie Flynn

devoured. He often brought business contacts into the café; Dana had thought nothing of it until now. She cleared her throat. ‘I’d better point out that I saw you in the café yesterday, so I take it that it wasn’t just tea and scones you and your fat friend were discussing. Really, James, didn’t it occur to you that it would have been good manners to introduce him to either Caitlin or myself? We don’t own the place, of course, but we are your tenants and must deserve some consideration!’
    If she had hoped to discompose him, however, she was disappointed. He flashed her a big, self-confident grin then leaned across the table, meaning to chuck her under the chin. Dana dodged, though she said nothing. She had long ago realised that James automatically patronised women, convinced that the entire female race was inferior to the male. ‘Good manners? What’s them?’ he said cockily. ‘I’m a plain man, me.’ His eyes met Dana’s and she caught a flicker of something – was it humour? – inhis glance, but then he transferred his gaze from herself to Caitlin and Dana took back her unvoiced criticism, because his whole face changed when his eyes met those of her friend. If he really does love her, Dana told herself, I’d better listen to his latest hare-brained scheme before I tell him we’re not going to play.
    ‘Ready? Then pin back your lugholes …’
    This time, the scheme was not just to rearrange the tea room to give them a couple of extra tables, or to move to bigger premises; this time it was to tear the café apart. The wall between the café itself and the storeroom would come down, a window would be made in the rear wall to give the place more natural light, and their dear little flat would be gutted and turned into a modern kitchen.
    ‘And where are we supposed to live?’ Dana asked sarcastically. ‘In the outside privy?’
    She expected James to be confounded by the question, but he grinned even more broadly. ‘I’ve bought a flat over the cycle shop in Wentworth Street, only a couple of hundred yards or so from here,’ he said triumphantly. ‘If you agree to the conversion you can live there rent-free for three months. Because of the upheaval, we’ll say – for a while at least – that it’s one of the perks of the job. How’s that for good manners?’
    Dana could not help laughing, but Caitlin gave a little squeal of excitement and began to exclaim, then glanced at her friend. ‘Oh, but what are we to do whilst the place is being altered?’ she asked. ‘And we’ve not even seen the Wentworth Street flat yet; we might hate it.’
    ‘You’ll love it,’ James said positively. ‘It’s got its own private staircase, leading from the yard to the front hall, so you won’t have to go into the shop at all. WentworthStreet is a lot quieter than Heyworth, and just think how nice it will be to be able to lock the door of the café and walk away from work as other people do.’
    ‘You make it sound very tempting, but I should need to know a lot more before agreeing to such a radical change,’ Dana said coolly. ‘For a start, it would mean closing the café for several weeks, if not months …’
    James interrupted at once. ‘No, no, I’ve thought of that. Herbie Porter says he’ll do the work in four to six weeks, from start to finish. You won’t need to close the café for long, because he’ll try to do the messiest work on Sundays whenever possible.’ He delved into his file and produced a number of typewritten sheets. ‘Sign here, ladies, and I’ll arrange a meeting between Herbie, you and me. Obviously I’d like you to capitalise on the Christmas rush, but when that’s over Porter will start converting the property and improving it as well.’
    He pushed the forms enticingly towards Caitlin, but when her friend would have seized the pen Dana shook her head. ‘No you don’t, alanna,’ she said firmly. ‘There are several things to be done first.’ She ticked them