Tim, Elvis and I left the cottage, and I speed-walked to the gate.

“Marnie.” Tim caught up with me and laid his hand on my shoulder. My arm twitched, and I longed to shake him off, but basic good manners and the thought of being seen by Mr Simpkins or passing locals stopped me.

“Thanks for the flowers,” I said, lightening my voice. “And good lu – no, break a leg for Tuesday.”

Tim swooped and kissed me on the lips. It was short and sweet; a perfect first kiss for a Mills & Boon novel, but no Bogie & Bacall fireworks and definitely not Debbie Does Dexter Bay.

“I’ll see you soon.” Tim held the gate for us to pass through, Elvis dragged me up Hill Street, and I didn’t look back. Ten minutes later, after a marathon lamp post-sniffing session, we arrived at Sue’s house, and I rang the doorbell.

“Marnie, hi. Yo, Elvis.” Sue looked perky and cheerful. Male voices sounded from inside, and then I heard laughter.

“Is Don back?” I asked as I stepped into the hall and unclipped Elvis’s leash. He bolted for the living room.

“No, but Emma’s husband came by, and they’re getting on like a house on fire.” Sue led the way to where Colin lay on his settee, and a tall, blond man lounged in the armchair next to him. “Ian, this is Marnie.”

Ian Turnbull stood and shook hands with me. “Bertie’s life-saver. Pleased to meet you and Elvis.”

“Happy to help.” I smiled at him. “Is Emma with you?”

“She went shopping, and I bailed out and came here.”

“I’ve made coffee, and there are biscuits in the big blue tin,” Sue told them. Then she turned to me. “Walkies?”

We said our goodbyes and headed to the door with Elvis dancing around us. Once we were outside, Sue studied my face. “What happened last night?”

“Shall we hit the moor path?” I asked.

“Yes. Whatever. Just stop stalling and start telling.”

“Oh, God,” I said as we walked up Moor Road, “It was hell.”

“Brilliant. Let’s hear it.”

I told Sue everything. I shared my doubts about Tim, the frustration over Paul, the underlying feeling of being manipulated and my return to pre-Jeff jewellery. “It’s more than that. I felt like a different person, stronger than the old me, someone who takes no crap from anybody. Well, sort of. I think.” I sighed. “My head’s bouncing like a yo-yo. I go from enjoying Tim’s company to fantasising about setting the Kray Pigeons on him. That’s not normal, is it?”

“Well, what’s normal for you isn’t necessarily normal for everyone else.”

“Thanks. That’s a big help.”

Sue was silent for several minutes. Elvis sniffed at a pile of rabbit droppings. I wished we’d stopped for some of Sue’s coffee before leaving. And then she spoke:

“Maybe I pushed you into this too soon. Sorry. Blame the gin…and the vodka.” Sue heaved a sigh. “Trust your instincts, Marnie. You’re not the same person who met Jeff fourteen years ago, and you won’t rush into anything else the same way, will you?”

“No,” I said. “I told Tim we had to take it slowly. Trouble is, I think he only hears what he wants to.”

“And don’t rush into anything with Paul, either.”

“I’m not rushing anywhere with anybody. Paul’s got his hands full with sulky Steph. She was making a play for Tim, and she got defensive when I mentioned Mark Cooper.”

“Think something’s going on there?”

“I don’t know, but there was tension between her and Paul. I’m not getting involved, though, and he can sort that one out himself.”

“So, you stormed out of the hotel.”

“Tim followed me.” I cringed, remembering the shouting match. “I met his father, insulted his dead mother and then I told Tim to sodding sod off.”

“Short, concise and to the point. I like it.”

“He came back this morning. I hid behind the settee, but Elvis gave me away. Tim apologised and gave me more flowers.”

“Does he have shares in a florist?”

“I’m beginning to wonder.” I sighed. “I’m mortified – I suddenly started crying, and he hugged me.”

“Marnie, think about it: eight days ago, you lived a life of boring normality with Jeff. Now you’re single, you have a lovely, big, mad dog, a good-looking guy to go out with, and another one lurking on the sidelines. You’re getting a divorce and your mojo back. No wonder you cried. I hope you ruined his shirt.”

“It’s drip-dry.” I blew air out through pursed lips. “Talking of the guy on the sidelines - Paul turned up when Tim was there. I answered the door, but Tim heard us and muscled in. I was furious. Paul wanted to know how I was after the hotel fiasco, and he noticed my wedding ring was gone.”

“Yeah, I saw that.” Sue nodded. “Another good sign you’re moving on. Tim’s jealous of Paul, then?”

“He said he felt insecure, but he’s over it.” I shook my head. “Boring normality seems suddenly attractive.”

“I forgot to ask, what did Tim wear?”

“Last night? He wore pretty much what he’s been wearing since I met him: chinos and a shirt. Not the same ones, obviously, but the same look. Smart but casual.”

Sue and I looked at each other.

“He’s so not the one for me, isn’t he?” I laughed.

“No, but you might have fun meanwhile.”

“Yeah…maybe I shouldn’t take him so seriously.”

We walked for a while, and then Sue asked what I planned to do next to find Jeff.

“No idea. Ask Emma?” We began heading back down towards Moor Road. “She did say they could help. It’s frustrating, though – I wanted to find him.”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“You still could. Maybe. If you had a plan.”

“Never mind a plan. Right now, I need coffee.”

Sue turned to me, a mischievous grin on her face. “I think we should visit Sea Brew.”

I felt a jolt of excitement and then hesitated. Paul might react awkwardly after this morning’s misunderstanding…but I could be friendly and open and get us back on an even footing. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s do it.”

We walked past the end of Elder Lane and met Emma and Bertie heading for the promenade. Sue invited them for coffee and cake, and as we headed to the seafront, Emma asked how my errant husband's hunt was going.

“Badly.” I gave a progress report on my week’s activities and the story behind the missing passport, and this took us to Sea Brew, where Emma paused outside the door and looked at me.

“That’s rather impressive,” she said.

“Is it?” I blinked in surprise. “I didn’t get anywhere.”

“You found the girlfriend’s home and information about how she and Jeff left their jobs. You interviewed the most important people in the case – I’d say you have a flair for this.”

I didn’t know what to say. But then, after a moment’s thought, I realised something. “I did enjoy doing it, playing detective. The results weren’t what I hoped for, but I felt energised, somehow, tracking people down and driving around with Elvis like….”

“Shaggy and Scooby?” Sue suggested, and I flicked her a two-finger salute.

Emma laughed and led the way into the café. “I have an idea you might like, but I’ll speak to Ian first and get back to you.”

“Right.” I nodded, intrigued, and then Sue spotted an empty window table facing the prom, and we pounced on it. I sat by the glass with Emma opposite and Sue next to her. Elvis tried to climb onto the empty chair beside me and then squashed himself beneath the table with Bertie and lay on my foot. The place was heaving, and I reckoned Paul would have to hire another staff member to keep pace. He was nowhere to be seen, but Steph bustled around, a grim expression on her face.

When she made it to our table, she didn’t acknowledge me, so I did the same and pretended we hadn’t shared an awkward drinks party the evening before. Sue ordered coffee and chocolate cake, and Steph marched off again.

Emma took out her phone and called her husband. “Ian, d’you know if TP’s still looking for someone? I think Marnie could be ideal. Yes…okay, I’ll ask her and get back to you.”

Emma smiled at me. “Ian thinks the job’s still going, but he’ll phone TP and make sure.”

“He’s phoning a tent?” Sue asked.

“Not a tepee. Initials.” Emma laughed. “That’s our nickname for him; his real name is Alf Langley.”

“But who is he?” I asked.

“He’s the detective we use to track people down and access records and background information. His assistant’s leaving, and he’s looking for someone else.”

“A detective?” I practically bounced in my seat. “A private eye? Wow.”

“He was a policeman, injured investigating a robbery and pensioned off. He started his business then - it’s small, but he’s very effective.”

“Why TP?” Sue wanted to know.

Emma grinned. “It stands for Transatlantic Pause. You know, like a satellite link-up to America on a news report? There’s always a delay before the other person answers. Alf’s like that. I think he’s super cautious and mulls over everything. When people meet him at first, they ask him something, then think he hasn’t heard, and ask him again, and he replies at the same time. It’s his little quirk.”

“Marnie, what d’you think?” Sue leaned across the table. “Wasn’t I saying that the other day? Your new job as a detective – and now you can do it for real.”

“If the job’s still open,” I said, then looked at Emma. “I’d give it a go, yes.”

“Alf likes to stay in the background at his computer. His assistant does the legwork, what you’ve been doing this past week.” Emma looked pleased. “Fingers crossed he hasn’t hired anyone yet.”

At this, Emma’s phone rang, and she snatched it up. “Ian. Yes? Absolutely, she’s keen. Uh-huh, yes, that’s a goer.” She ended the call and grinned at me. “The job’s still there. TP’s coming into the office tomorrow, so you can meet him if you’re free.”

“I am. This is brilliant.” I almost laughed with delight. “Thanks so much.”

“You’re welcome,” Emma replied as Steph reappeared with our order. We toasted my new job with coffee, then began eating the delicious cake. My head was full of possibilities. My new career as a younger Miss Marple….

While I was daydreaming, Sue concentrated on her cake and Emma looked out of the window and then pointed with her pastry fork. “Ian says we should get one of those now we’re country folk. Well, seaside folk - is that the same thing?”

“Get one of what?” Sue peered through the glass.

“Oh, you just missed it. A Land Rover.”

“Huh?” I snapped out of my Agatha Christie fantasy. “Not a blue one…?”

“Yes. It’s driven slowly past a few times - he’s probably looking for a parking space.”

My stomach contracted. I told myself there were loads of blue Land Rovers; no reason to assume it was his. I forced over a mouthful of cake, washed it down with coffee, and stared out at the promenade, checking passing cars, praying silently.

“There he is.” Emma waved her fork again. “Nice-looking guy – oh, he’s seen us.” Tim’s face lit up, and he waved and drove on. Emma turned to me. “You know him?”

I couldn’t speak.

Sue answered for me. “Marnie went out with him last night.”

“Oh?” Emma studied my face. “I’ll make an educated guess and say it didn’t go well.”

“You’d be right.” Sue frowned at me. “Thought he was going back to London?”

“He’d bloody better be,” I muttered.

“Did you arrange to meet him here?” Emma asked.

“No.” I laid down my fork. rested my face in my hands and spoke through my fingers. “He keeps turning up like a bad penny…or a stalker.”

“He’s keener than Marnie,” Sue told Emma. “He’s a bit pushy, too. He’s known her since Wednesday, and he’s already given her three loads of flowers.” She paused and then said, “Ah.”

I looked up, glanced at her face and knew what was coming next – or, rather, who.

“Hello, ladies.” Tim appeared at our table. “May I?” He didn’t wait for an answer but slid onto the empty seat next to me, leaned over and kissed me. I flinched away and almost cracked my head against the glass. Elvis and Bertie emerged to greet Tim, but he ignored them, so they slouched beneath the table again, and Elvis resumed his position across my foot. I felt my toes go numb while the rest of me seethed with anger.

“I thought you were heading back home?” I said in a tight voice.

Tim looked across the table. “I’m Tim, and one of you must be Sue.”

“That’s me.” Sue nodded, and Tim shook her hand. “This is Emma.”

Another handshake, and then Tim turned to me. “I had a great idea. Why don’t you come with me to London?”

“No!” This came out more forcefully than I’d intended; it was almost a shout. Several customers turned towards our table, and Steph materialised so suddenly I wondered if she’d shot up through a trapdoor like a baddie in a pantomime.

“Tim, hi, how are you?” She turned a mega-watt smile on him, and Emma stared, fascinated. “Did I hear you say something about London? Are you going back for your audition?”

“Yes, and I’m trying to persuade Marnie to come with me.” Tim looked at me again. “You can help me learn my lines.”

“I’m not going to London.” This time I hissed at him, then focussed on my cake and resumed eating, wondering how much damage I could do to Tim with the tiny pastry fork.

“I’d love to go with you,” Steph gushed. “But I think Paul might object.”

“Hi, Paul.” Tim waved towards the counter, and I paused with a mouthful of cake and followed his gaze. Paul was filling the cabinet with a tray of caramel tarts. He looked up at the sound of his name, saw me and smiled, and then he caught sight of Tim. Paul’s smile stuck. He raised a hand in greeting, then turned and hurried back into the kitchen.

My bad temper shot into a near-murderous rage. I carried on eating, stuffing each forkful into my mouth as though it had offended me, then slugging coffee the way a pirate might quaff rum.

Tim laughed at me. “You’ll get indigestion.”

“What audition are you talking about?” Emma asked him, and Tim opened his mouth to speak, but Steph beat him to it.

“It’s a film role,” she said. “Tim’s an actor.”

“And a model,” Sue told Emma, eyes dancing with laughter.

I wondered how Tim felt having someone else answer for him, and then I had the brief, mad idea of pushing Steph and him together. They could run away to London and live happily ever after in actor/model/waitress splendour.

“Come on, Marnie,” Tim said, voice dripping with honey, “Come to London; we’ll have a great time. What else would you be doing?”

“Going to a job interview and caring for Elvis, among other things. I do not want to go to London.” I jerked my head towards Steph. “Take her instead.”

Tim laughed as though I’d told a brilliant joke while Steph looked like she wanted to bitch-slap me into the middle of next week. I finished my cake, drained my coffee and looked at Sue and Emma. “I think it’s time to go.”