The Great Pick Up Line
Welcome Jane Cable as they share their Great Pick Up Line from Another You.
Take it away Jane!
I settle myself on my favourite bench. Studland Bay is like glass. A gull swoops below me, sunlight glinting off its wings. I’d like wings. I close my eyes and imagine them stirring under my chef’s whites, feathers chafing my skin. Restless to break loose and fly. I must read Jonathan Livingston Seagull again.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but did you drop this?”
My head jerks up. Light invades my eyes and I see only the American’s silhouette, his arm outstretched.
“It’s so pretty; I wouldn’t have wanted you to lose it.”
I hold out my hand and he drops something small and cool into it. A tiny silver seahorse, just half an inch long, with a loop attached to its head. I can almost see the chain breaking, the charm sliding off. I look at him, shielding my eyes with my other hand.
“It is pretty – but it’s not mine.”
A line appears across his brow. He is older than Jude, younger than me. Early thirties perhaps? His face is tanned, his neck muscular, his eyes invisible behind vintage aviators.
“Should I take it to the police station?” he asks.
I shake my head. “They’ll just file it away somewhere. Tell you what, I’ll put up notices in the pub and the car park. Whoever lost it is more likely to see them there.”
“The owner won’t mind?”
“The landlord’s my…” Why don’t I want to admit to it? “It’ll be ok. I work there. In the kitchen.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
God, that makes me feel ancient. “It’s not ma’am – it’s Marie.”
He shifts his stance, almost smiles. “So how did an English rose come by a French name?”
I feel the colour rising up my neck. “It’s not French, it’s just different.”
“Well what do you know? My folks wanted me to be different too so they named me Corbin. Corbin’s where my granddaddy Summerhayes had his farm before the town was even built.”
“And where’s that?”
He all but stands to attention. “Kentucky. In the good old United States of America.”
I gaze down at the pendant in my hand. “And do you have seahorses there?”
“Oh my, Marie,” he laughs. “We don’t even have an ocean to put them in.”
“Then I’ll take especially good care of this one,” I promise as I tuck it into my pocket then set off down the path. As I descend towards the village the thunder in my head begins again.[/quote]
Another You by Jane Cable
The past is never dead…
Marie Johnson is trapped by her job as a chef in a Dorset pub and by her increasingly poisonous marriage to its landlord. Worn down by his string of affairs she has no self-confidence, no self-respect and the only thing that keeps her going is watching her son turn into a talented artist.
But the sixtieth anniversary of a D-Day exercise which ended in disaster triggers chance meetings which prove unlikely catalysts for change as Marie discovers that sometimes the hardest person to save is yourself.
About Jane Cable
I have been writing on and off all my life but started to take it seriously when my first romantic suspense novel, The Cheesemaker’s House, reached the final of The Alan Titchmarsh Show’s People’s Novelist competition. It gave me the confidence to publish the book independently and in 2015 it won the Words for the Wounded Independent Novel of the Year. As a direct result of this I was signed by my agent and within a year had my first publishing contract with Endeavour Press.
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