‘Do you think you’ll get any?’
‘What? People – customers?’
He nodded.
‘A few. People will go anywhere for good coffee – especially if it’s free.’
He laughed again and said, ‘It’ll go down a treat, free coffee. They’ll be coming from as far away as Edinburgh and Newcastle for that.’
She smiled and felt relieved. They seemed more relaxed with one another now. She was glad.
‘About the twins,’ he said suddenly. She waited. ‘They can be difficult, I know. None better. But they’re not so bad, really.’
‘I know that,’ she said gently. ‘They’re not bank robbers or serial killers, or anything, are they? They just like helping my old greenhouse to collapse.’
He smiled and dipped his head. ‘I’m sorry, Jenny, if they’ve been giving you a hard time.’
‘I just wanted you to have a word with them. That’s all. Nip things in the bud before they get out of hand.’
‘I will. I’ll do that.’
She sipped her coffee and tried not to study his face. She didn’t want him to feel under interrogation. She didn’t want him to clam up again.
‘It’s been difficult,’ he said. ‘Ever since their mother died, it’s been an uphill struggle.’
Ah! She’d wondered about the mother. Here was the answer.
‘I’m sorry to hear that, Tom. What happened?’
‘Annie got ill.’ He shrugged and added, ‘That’s all, really. She passed away after a short illness, as they say. It broke my heart. I was devastated. The twins were, as well.’
‘You must all have been. How long ago was it?’
‘Three years gone. Nearer four now.’
‘You must all have had a terrible time,’ she said gently. ‘I can see that. How awful for you. And the poor children.’
He looked up and gave a weary smile. ‘It’s not what we planned, Annie and me. We were a happy family once. But things happen. You just have to get on with it, don’t you?’
True enough. She offered him another coffee, but the mood had changed and he declined.
‘They won’t go to school, you know.’
‘The twins? Why ever not?’
He shook his head. ‘They just won’t. The battles there’s been over that! I used to have to see them on to the school bus, or they wouldn’t have bothered getting on. But all that meant was they got off at the next stop, and spent the day roaming round the countryside. I decided I’d rather have them here all day instead. But that meant I had to give my job up.
‘I probably would have had to, anyway,’ he added. ‘I wasn’t up to it any more.’
‘Was the Education Authority happy with that arrangement?’
He shook his head. ‘But they accepted it.’
‘Really? I thought it was the law that children had to go to school?’
‘It’s not so unusual, apparently. I was told there’s a lot of lads – lads, especially – that give up on going to school when they’re fourteen or fifteen. Out on the farms. Isolated places in the hills. The authorities don’t like it, but...’ He shrugged. ‘Nobody has the answer.’
Jenny was surprised. She had assumed truancy was a problem only in the inner cities, the world she knew best.
‘What was your job, Tom?’ she asked to change the subject.
‘Joiner and carpenter.’
‘Really? Like Harry Cummings?’
‘No,’ he said with a shake of the head. ‘Not at all like him. He’s a joiner and boat builder. It says so on his door!’
‘Ah! Big difference.’
‘It is. Not that he gets the chance to build many boats. When’s he coming to do this work for you?’
‘I haven’t a clue. I don’t think he has either. He’s snowed under with work.’
Tom nodded and said, ‘He’s not much for the joinery, anyway. He’s a boat builder at heart.’
‘Boats?’ she said wonderingly, thinking about it. ‘On the Tweed?’
‘Boats on the Tweed,’ Tom agreed, looking up with a smile. ‘For the fishing, you know.’
‘The fishing. Yes, of course.’
She laughed. She laughed out loud. For some reason, it seemed the funniest, most charming thing she’d heard since coming to Cragley.
Chapter Six
‘Is this shop still not open?’
She spun round and laughed at the sight of Will Renfrew rattling the defunct door handle.
‘Soon!’ she told him. ‘It will be very soon, I hope. Good morning, Will. How are you?’
‘Excellent, thank you. And a very good morning to you, too, my dear,’ he responded, doffing an imaginary hat.
She had been cleaning the outside windows. Now she dropped the cloth into the bucket and began to unpeel the yellow rubber gloves she was wearing.
‘I’m a bit frustrated, to be honest, Will,’ she told him. ‘I’d hoped to be up and running by now.’ She waved a despairing hand at the shop front and added, ‘But I’m not.’
‘These things take time,’ he said judicially. ‘Give yourself a break. Come and join me in “The Leaping Salmon”?’
‘The pub? Is that where you’re headed?’
‘It is.’
‘Now? At this time of day?’
‘I’ve just won a commission. I’m celebrating.’
‘Still … It’s ten in the morning, Will.’
‘For coffee, I should have added. Just for coffee.’
‘In the pub?’
‘That’s their morning trade. Den of iniquity at night, I’m told, but in the morning it’s highly respectable.’
‘Respectable?’ she repeated dubiously, looking him up and down, assessing his paint-spattered cord trousers and old jumper. Wondering what had happened to the smart suit she had once seen him wearing.
‘You’ll do,’ he assured her. ‘Just come as you are.’
‘Thank you very much! Is that your artist’s attire, by the way?’
‘My gardening attire.’
‘Nice.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Think they’ll let you in, dressed like that?’
‘I’ll tell them I’m going to pay cash.’
‘For the coffee?’
‘Heaven save me from petty shopkeepers! Are you ever going to get your coat?’
***
‘So what’s the problem?’ Will asked when they were safely inside “The Leaping Salmon”.
She hesitated and looked round the room. ‘I’ve not been in here before,’ she said, eyeing the surprisingly fresh decor. ‘It’s quite nice, isn’t it?’
‘Not bad, now smoking’s banned and they can keep the place clean.’
‘And you were right about the morning clientele and trade. Very respectable!’
There were half-a-dozen elderly people enjoying morning coffee while they chatted or read their newspapers. Not a lager lout, or any other kind of youngster, in sight.
‘The shop,’ Will said firmly. ‘What’s the problem?’
She smiled at him. ‘You’re very persistent.’
‘I am. Indeed I am.’
Handsome, too, she thought with amusement. She wasn’t keen on the little beard and moustache, but they certainly added to his aura. He shouldn’t be here, though. He should be in Vienna or Prague, in the 1890’s. He should be wearing a hat and carrying a cane or an umbrella, an elegant lady with skirts down to the ground by his side.
‘My patience is not unlimited,’ he warned her.
She laughed and put down her coffee cup.
‘The problem is Harry Cummings, the joiner. I’m still waiting for him to come and make the alterations and put up the shelves. I can’t open for business until that’s done.’
‘If he comes to do that before he fixes my leaking roof, I shall be furious.’
‘Oh, dear! Of course. You’re waiting for him, as well, aren’t you?’
‘Only for a year.’
‘A year!’
‘Just o
ver, actually. But that’s not long. Not here, it isn’t. Besides, the roof has probably been leaking for most of the last century.’
‘Is your house in poor repair?’
‘Not at all. At least, I don’t think so. But when my grandfather designed it, he clearly specified the kind of buckets to be put under the leaks. It’s just that you can’t get them anymore. So the roof will have to be mended instead.’
‘I see.’ She laughed and shook her head.
He never stopped, she reflected later. The flow of stories and wry asides never even slowed. He was a born entertainer.
‘But I must be going,’ he said eventually, glancing at the old clock on the wall. ‘You shopkeepers are all right for time, no doubt, but I must make a start on my commission.’
‘What is it for?’
‘A family portrait. Three Cocker Spaniels and a Persian cat.’
She shook her head again, and tried not to laugh any more. She was sore with laughter.
‘About your problem,’ he said, standing up and helping Jenny to her feet.
‘My problem?’
‘The shop. You could do worse than ditch Harry Cummings and approach your next-door neighbour.’
‘Tom Laidler?’
‘That’s the one.’ Will nodded. ‘He’s an excellent joiner. At least, he was. I know he hasn’t worked for a while, but I don’t suppose he’s forgotten how.’
She nodded thoughtfully. It was an idea. She wondered if she should.
‘One other thing.’ She waited. ‘Would you care to come here one evening for a meal with me? Local salmon – cooked, not leaping – or whatever else takes your fancy?’
‘‘I’d like that very much,’ she assured him, overcoming her surprise. ‘Thank you, Will.’
***
Back at the house, Jenny found she had a surprise visitor waiting. Jenny was curious, but pleased to see her.
‘Hello, Hannah! Are you waiting for me?’
The girl nodded. ‘I rang the bell,’ she said.
‘And nobody came – because I was out?’
A fleeting smile crossed Hannah’s face.
‘Are you coming inside?’ Jenny asked, opening the door.
Hannah looked uncertain.
‘Come and have a cup of coffee with me. Or tea? Or whatever else we can find.’
‘I just wanted to say sorry about the greenhouse,’ Hannah said in a rush. ‘That’s all.’
‘Oh? Has your dad had a word with you?’
Hannah nodded.
Jenny smiled. ‘Well, thank you for that, Hannah. I’m glad you came. I know it’s just an old wreck of a greenhouse at the moment, but as I told your dad I want to repair it and use it.
‘But come on in, Hannah! Let’s have a drink and a chat. If you’ve got time?’
Hannah grinned with what seemed like relief and nodded. The ice seemed to be broken at last, Jenny thought with relief as she ushered the girl inside.
Hannah wasn’t exactly a chatterbox but she did speak and listen normally when they reached the kitchen, like a grown-up young woman instead of a difficult child. Jenny welcomed the change.
‘You’re making it nice.’ Hannah looked round the kitchen with interest.
‘Well, I’ve made a start. I’ve decorated the kitchen and one of the bedrooms.’
‘Yourself?’
Jenny nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘I like painting – painting walls, that is.’
‘Oh, I don’t do pictures either.’
Hannah grinned. ‘My mum used to like decorating. I do, as well. But Dad says our house is all right as it is. So I don’t get the chance now.’
‘Come and help me do some of mine,’ Jenny said quickly.
‘Maybe.’ Hannah considered. Then she said, ‘I saw you in the pub with Mr. Renfrew.’
‘Did you? We just went for a coffee. It’s quite a nice place.’
‘Old-fashioned,’ Hannah said quickly. ‘It’s where the old people go.’
‘Thank you, Hannah!’
The girl smiled but took nothing back. That puts me in my place! Jenny thought wryly.
‘You know Mr. Renfrew, do you?’
‘Yes. He used to be the art teacher at my school.’
When you and James used to go to school, presumably, Jenny thought but didn’t say.
‘He likes painting, as well – but not walls,’ Jenny said mischievously.
‘That’s all he does now,’ Hannah said in a serious tone. ‘Paint pictures. He left the school.’
‘Perhaps he got bored with it?’
‘Probably he did.’ Hannah got to her feet. ‘Where do you want painting?’
‘Another bedroom is next on the list.’
‘Where’s the paint?’
‘What, now?’ Jenny asked with alarm.
Hannah nodded. She was ready, ready to start. Well, why not? Jenny thought, trying to recall the old saying of her mother’s about striking while the iron was hot – or something like that.
Hannah made a fair job of it, too.
‘Very good!’ Jenny said with admiration when she came to inspect the end result.
‘I’ve done better,’ Hannah responded off-handedly. ‘But I’m a bit out of practice.’
Just then a voice called to her from downstairs.
‘James!’ Hannah said by way of explanation. She dropped the roller. ‘I have to go.’
Jenny thanked her and invited her to come again. They descended the stairs together. James was waiting on the front steps.
‘What have you been doing?’ he asked, staring at his sister suspiciously.
‘Painting,’ Hannah told him.
‘Painting?’
‘Painting bedroom walls,’ Jenny said. ‘You could have a go, as well, if you like, James. There’s plenty wants doing.’
James looked disgusted.
‘Or help me clear up the greenhouse?’ Jenny suggested. ‘All that broken glass?’
James grimaced, and turned and marched off. Hannah followed, without a backward glance.
‘Come again, Hannah!’ Jenny called. ‘Any time.’
She got a little wave and a smile from Hannah then, but nothing at all from James. Still, she thought as she headed indoors, one out of two ain’t bad. Two out of three, actually, if you counted Tom as well. Progress!
Chapter Seven
Wendy, in the village shop, asked Jenny how she was getting along.
‘Still settling in, but I’m fine, thanks.’
‘There’ll be a lot to do. It’s years since that shop was last open. Even longer since it was a success story.’
‘Oh, I haven’t even started on the shop yet. I’m still waiting for the joiner to come and do some work on it.’
‘Harry Cummings?’
‘That’s him. You recommended him, remember?’
Wendy winced. Then she chuckled. ‘Has he said which year he’ll come?’
‘Not yet,’ Jenny replied with a weary smile. ‘He’s very busy, isn’t he?’
‘He is. He’s good, mind. But he can be hard to get.’
She began scanning the items in Jenny’s basket.
‘I see you’ve got some new technology.’
‘The scanner?’ Wendy chuckled. ‘It’s all right but I’m not sure it’s justified in my little shop. What I really need is more customers.’
‘Was it expensive to install?’
‘Not for me. It came free – from One North East, the regional development agency. So I thought I might as well have it.’
‘How did that come about?’
‘Some grant programme they run to support rural shops. Money from Brussels, I think. You might want to look into it yourself.’
‘Oh, I don’t think so. I won’t have anything like as many customers as you, Wendy. Everybody has to buy bread and milk, don’t they? But you don’t have to buy scented candles and hand-crafted paper.’
‘True enough. Still, they might be able to help you in some other way. It’s wo
rth looking into.’
‘You’re right. I’ll look into it.’
‘Ten pounds and forty-three pence, please,’ Wendy concluded.
While Jenny counted out the money, getting rid of some small change in the process, Wendy added, ‘You should have told Harry Cummings you wanted a boat building. He’d have been round like a shot then.’
‘You’re not the first to put that idea in my head.’
‘Well, if you can’t wait any longer, have a word with Tom Laidler, your next-door neighbour. He’s a joiner. Used to be, anyway.’
‘Someone else suggested that, as well. But it’s a bit awkward. I don’t think he works now, does he?’
Wendy sighed. ‘Not since Annie died, poor man. But he’ll have to start again sometime, won’t he? He can’t go the rest of his life without working.’
‘He says he has to look after the twins.’
‘Well, he’s a good man, is Tom, and I wouldn’t question his motives. He’s certainly got his hands full with the two of them, but it’s time he pulled himself together and got on with his life. He’s just going to waste.’
‘You knew his wife?’
‘I’ve known both of them all my life. We’re all from round here. None of us has gone far away. Annie was nice. So is Tom, actually. Annie wouldn’t want to see him like this. It’s such a shame.’
‘The children seem to be difficult.’
‘That they are! But they’re not bad kids really. They get into scrapes, but they’re teenagers. What can you expect? I think they miss their mum. That’s the top and the bottom of it.’
‘Tom says they won’t go to school.’
‘Well, maybe they won’t, but they’re not the only ones. It’s a long way to the high school in Berwick every morning. By school bus, as well. Then they have a terrible time if they miss the bus when it’s time to come home. It’s not a nice experience.
‘Anyway, the twins will be leaving next summer. I don’t suppose either of them wants to stop on,’ Wendy added.
Jenny picked up her bag. Then she paused. ‘But you think Tom might help me out?’
‘He might. It’s worth a try.’ Wendy grinned and added, ‘Say I suggested it. All he can do then is bite your head off!’
Will Renfrew was wonderful entertainment, Jenny decided with a happy smile as she sat down. On the way into “The Leaping Salmon” he’d found something amusing to say to everyone they had passed or even seen.
A Place of Her Own Page 3