A Place of Her Own

by Barnes, Miranda

  Jenny smiled with delight. ‘You’d better come in, Tom. We can’t discuss business out on the street.’

  ‘No, we don’t want the neighbours to see us.’

  ‘Tom! That’s not what I meant at all,’ she said, laughing.

  She led him into the old shop and began telling him what she wanted doing, and inviting opinions on things she was unsure about.

  ‘So,’ he summarised after a little while, ‘replace the windows, strip the floor, put up shelves and a counter, and display boxes.’ He stopped and glanced round. ‘What about the walls?’

  She looked round herself at the crumbling, discoloured walls and tried not to shudder. ‘They’re not very good, are they?’ she admitted. ‘A coat of paint, do you think?’

  Tom shook his head. ‘The plasterwork needs repairing.’

  He stuck a finger into a crack and pulled a chunk of plaster loose. It seemed to leave a big bare patch behind.

  ‘Oh, dear!’ Jenny said, even more worried.

  ‘It’s nothing. I can fix that. Fill the gaps. Put a skim over it.’

  ‘Really?’

  He nodded. ‘Best to do it before we start putting shelves up and decorating.’

  Jenny felt very happy Tom was here, looking things over, suggesting solutions to problems. He seemed so different. She had great confidence in him and his judgement.

  ‘What?’ he said, seeing her looking at him.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said, giving him a smile. ‘Just ... Oh, I don’t know! I’m just so happy you’re here. That’s all. It’s so good to talk to someone who knows what he’s doing about all this.’

  What she didn’t say was that it felt good to have him, Tom, here. She felt very comfortable in his presence these days. And, to be honest, she admitted to herself, she found him a very attractive man. She liked that mass of black curly hair. She liked his eyes, and the way he studied things. Even more than that, she liked his presence, his strong, quiet presence. How wrong can you be? she wondered, thinking back to their difficult encounter the night she’d arrived in Cragley. What an unpleasant man he had seemed then.

  She pulled herself together. Tom was contemplating something else. He walked backwards and forwards a couple of times. Then he stamped on the floor in a few places. She saw and felt it give slightly.

  ‘I’ll have a look under the floor while I’m at it,’ he announced. ‘The joists need some support. Maybe something’s come loose, or broken away. Either that or there’s a bit of rot or woodworm damage.’

  Jenny hadn’t thought of that. Her spirits began to sag again. It was beginning to look a bigger job than she had imagined.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ Tom assured her. ‘You’re bound to get a bit of floor weakness after a hundred years of folk treading on the boards. It should be all right, basically. But it’ll be best to sort it out before we do much else.’

  Jenny nodded, her spirits recovering once again in the face of Tom’s practical competence. ‘Will there be a cellar you can get into?’

  He shook his head. ‘Just a big cavity, if it’s the same as mine – which it will be. I’ll be able to get into it all right. There’ll likely be a little entry somewhere that the electricians or the plumbers have made. I’ll use that.’

  He looked around again and added, ‘That’s about it.’

  ‘It’s enough! How long is it all going to take?’

  ‘A couple of weeks. Maybe less, if I get cracking.’

  ‘Is that all?’ Jenny was pleasantly surprised. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘It’s not a big job.’

  ‘It seems it to me.’

  He shook his head.

  ‘What’s it going to cost, do you think? Not that that matters much. The work has to be done.’

  ‘I’ll work out an estimate for you, but I’m not expensive. I’m cheaper than Harry Cummings, anyway,’ he added with a mischievous smile. ‘He’d want to make it seaworthy!’

  She laughed and invited him to the kitchen for a cup of tea. What a wonderful start to the day! she thought. A prospect of progress at last.

  ‘Hannah says you’ve been bringing in stuff for the shop,’ Tom said. ‘What have you been doing with it?’

  ‘I thought I’d better keep the shop clear until the work was done. So I’ve been putting it in the big shed at the bottom of the garden.’

  ‘Good idea.’

  ‘It’s a good shed, actually. I was surprised. It’s more of a workshop than a storage shed.’

  Tom nodded. ‘Craig Dalglish set it up. He used to live here, years ago. He was a bit of a craftsman himself. Wood turner. Just amateur, mind, but he turned out some good stuff. I had my eye on his workshop myself at one time.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘It’s a long story.’

  He shuffled and began to get to his feet. Jenny wondered what the story could be, but accepted that it was off-limits. Probably a plan he and his wife had had in mind. She didn’t ask.

  ‘By the way, Tom, Hannah has been wonderful. She’s been helping such me a lot lately. You’d be amazed at what she’s done.’

  He looked a bit uncertain, puzzled even. She told him what they’d been up to. By the time she’d finished, he looked even more surprised. Pleased, too.

  ‘I thought something must have changed in that girl’s life,’ he admitted, ‘but I didn’t know the half of it.’

  ‘Didn’t she tell you?’

  ‘She said she’d been here once or twice, but not what she’d been doing.’ He looked up and gave a grin of delight. ‘I’m amazed!’

  ‘Young people, eh Tom? They don’t get enough credit.’

  ‘Thank you for spending the time with her, Jenny. Not everyone would. I’m grateful.’

  ‘Not at all, Tom. I like her. Besides, she’s been an enormous help. In fact, I’m thinking of offering her a little wage to continue helping me. If you wouldn’t object?’

  ‘She’d like that!’ He chuckled. ‘Thanks again. She’s been a worry to me since Annie died. I mean, she’s getting older now, and coming to a time in her life when a father can’t give her everything she needs. Advice, and so on,’ he added awkwardly. ‘Women’s concerns.’

  ‘I understand. But you’re doing fine, Tom. So is Hannah. You don’t need to worry about her.’

  He nodded. ‘I just wish I could say the same about the other one,’ he added darkly.

  ‘James?’

  ‘James.’

  ‘What’s the problem there?’

  Tom sighed and looked close to despair. ‘He’s got a date with the magistrates coming up.’

  ‘For not attending school? Surely not?’

  ‘For vandalism, they say, and persistent trouble-making.’

  Jenny thought quickly. ‘He’s not been in trouble before, has he?’

  ‘Only every day!’

  She grimaced. ‘I’m sorry, Tom. I hope things work out for him, and for you.’

  ‘Aye,’ Tom said miserably. ‘So do I.’

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Is something wrong, Hannah?’

  ‘No. Where do you want these soaps putting?’

  ‘Those hand-made, sweet-scented, pastel-shaded, carefully-wrapped tablets of bath-time delight?’

  ‘Them ones.’

  ‘In the shed, please.’

  Hannah went off willingly enough but Helen was worried about her. She wasn’t her usual self. Her sense of humour had deserted her, for one thing. She was too quiet, for another. But Jenny didn’t want to press her. Not yet. She didn’t want to add to whatever pressures the girl was already experiencing.

  She made a mug of coffee and got out a carton of fruit juice for Hannah. Then she began making some scones. How domesticated I’ve become! she thought with a wry smile.

  ‘Sit down, Hannah!’ she ordered when the girl returned. ‘Have a rest. You deserve it. And help yourself to juice.’

  Hannah sat in a disconsolate heap.

  Jenny took pity on her and stopped what she was doing. She rinsed
the flour from her fingers and dried her hands.

  ‘Hannah?’ she said quietly, and was appalled by the tearful face turned towards her. ‘What is it, dear? What…’

  ‘It’s James!’

  ‘James? I don’t understand.’

  ‘He’s been at it again – and he blames me! I know he does.’

  ‘What’s he done now?’

  ‘Fighting on the school bus. Him and Greg McCord.’

  It was news to Jenny that James had even been on a school bus. Good news, actually.

  ‘Has he been going to school?’

  Hannah shook her head. ‘Sometimes he goes on the bus, though.’

  ‘Whatever for?’

  ‘He spends the day in Berwick. A few of them do that. I do it sometimes,’ she added defiantly.

  Jenny took that in her stride. The situation was complicated enough.

  ‘So why does he blame you?’

  ‘He thinks I should have been there with him. Then it wouldn’t have happened. That’s what twins are for, he says – to stick together.’

  ‘What does your dad say?’

  Hannah sniffed. ‘Not much. He says he’s going to find work for James to do, to keep him out of mischief. But he’s worried, as well. I know he is. He doesn’t want the police coming to the door.’

  ‘He won’t want to see James in any more trouble either,’ Jenny suggested.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Maybe he could come and help us?’

  ‘In the shop? I don’t think so.’

  ‘No. We don’t have a lot of scope for fighting in here.’

  A faint smile crept across Hannah’s face. Jenny decided it was a good sign.

  ‘What does James like doing? Playing football?’

  Hannah shook her head.

  ‘What, then?’

  ‘Not much. Only computers really. He likes messing about with the computer.’

  ‘You’ve got one at home?’

  ‘An old one.’

  ‘What does he do? Play games on it?’

  ‘Not much. He likes taking it to bits and putting it back together again.’ She grinned and added, ‘Dad doesn’t know he does that. He’d probably go mad if he knew!’

  ‘I’ll bet,’ Jenny said thoughtfully.

  ***

  Jenny was impressed with the way that Tom got to work. He hadn’t been in the house five minutes when the sounds of hammering and sawing began. Soon she could smell the unfamiliar scent of sawdust in the air. She hurried to shut doors before it got everywhere. He seems to know what he’s doing, though, she thought with satisfaction. And something’s being done. At last!

  When she went outside, to go to the village shop, she was astonished to see the old windows were already removed and lying outside the house on the footpath. Even more astonishing was the sight of James wielding a hammer as if he meant business.

  ‘Hello, James! I didn’t know you were here, as well.’

  ‘I have to be, don’t I?’ came the sullen reply.

  ‘He’s helping me,’ Tom said sharply, putting an end to it.

  Jenny couldn’t help smiling to herself as she went on her way. Maybe the boy was protesting too much. There was an energy and commitment about the pair of them that was unexpected. Maybe they’d both needed something to do, she thought happily. But, then, don’t we all?

  Later, she had an idea. She waited until Tom was out of the way, gone into Berwick for some special screws and other things he was short of, and then she approached James, who was collecting together scrap wood and sweeping up.

  ‘How’s it going, James?’

  ‘All right.’

  He didn’t look round or stop sweeping.

  ‘You’ve got the new windows in, I see?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  It was hard work, but she was prepared for that.

  ‘James, Hannah tells me you’re interested in computers?’

  He gave her a quick, suspicious look but said nothing.

  ‘I’ve got this old one I want rid of. Would it be any use to you?’

  ‘What is it?’

  She told him. He was non-commital. He really was hard work! she thought. She pitied the teachers at his school.

  ‘Maybe you could cannibalise it – use it for spare parts?’

  ‘It’s a better one than ours anyway,’ he said reluctantly.

  ‘Is it? So you might be able to use it?’

  ‘Maybe. I’ll have to take a look. How much do you want for it?’

  ‘Nothing. If you don’t want it, I’ll just have to see if the Council will collect it and take it away.’

  ‘Let’s have a look now, then,’ James said, coming to a decision, ‘before our dad gets back.’

  The computer was fine, actually. It was in working order. Nothing wrong with it. But she’d bought a new one, with more capacity, just before the move. She’d known she would be doing a lot of research and ordering online. So it had seemed a sensible investment. But she hadn’t been able to bring herself to throw the old one away. It was a good thing she hadn’t, she thought now with relief.

  ‘I’ll take it off your hands,’ James said gravely, once he’d taken a look. ‘If you’re sure?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ she assured him. ‘Please take it.’

  To her surprise, James smiled and said, ‘Thanks.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Suddenly Tom had finished work. The shop was ready. Empty but ready.

  ‘All yours now,’ Tom said with a smile. ‘You can fill it with whatever you want. I’ve done my bit.’

  ‘Really? Oh, come on, Tom! Let’s have a look.’

  He had done an excellent job. She saw that at once. The re-plastered and fresh-painted walls. The new windows. The stripped floorboards. The shelves and display units, and the counter top. He had even had someone he knew come in to install new wiring and lighting, placing downlighters and spotlights exactly where she wanted them.

  ‘It’s wonderful, Tom!’ she breathed excitedly. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’

  She turned and beamed at him.

  He shrugged and gazed around nonchalantly. ‘It’s not bad, is it?’

  ‘Not bad? It’s terrific! It really is.’

  She forgot herself and gave him a little hug, she was so excited.

  ‘Sorry, Tom,’ she said, seeing him flinch, realising she had embarrassed him.

  He laughed, recovering. ‘Nothing to be sorry about,’ he said. ‘I just wish all my clients were so appreciative. Generally, I just get complaints.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s not true.’

  She broke away to investigate the space he had created. In her mind’s eye she was plotting where things would go. Stocks of the hand-made candles here. The wooden toys against the back wall. Maybe some of them could even hang from the ceiling? The downlighters would show off the jewellery beautifully in the case she’d had made. Oh, it would be wonderful! But so much to consider – and to do.

  What about the hand-made paper items Hannah had spotted and ordered? Where would they go? She grimaced. Store them in the shed at first, probably. No point trying to cram too much in here. But she’d better ask Hannah first.

  ‘Where’s Hannah?’ she asked, turning back to Tom. ‘What?’ she demanded, seeing the big grin on his face.

  He shook his head. ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘I was just enjoying watching you being carried away.’

  ‘Oh, Tom! You have no idea. It’s wonderful. Finally, at last, after two whole years of planning and thinking and worrying, I can set up shop. You’ve no idea what it means to me.’

  ‘I’m happy for you,’ he said, nodding with understanding. ‘By the way, is it still “Good Times”?’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ she said, surprised he knew.

  ‘Hannah told me. It’s a good name.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘If you’re sticking to that, I know a man who paints shop fronts and does fancy signs. I can get him to call in and talk to you about it, if you like?’


  ‘Oh, excellent! I was wondering what to do about that.’ She took a deep breath and beamed with pleasure. ‘Thank you so much, again, for what you’ve done here, Tom. We’re just about there now. And you’ve helped make my dream come true.’

  ‘Aye, well.’ He was fidgeting now, uncomfortable with her emotional words. ‘I’ll be getting on now. Hannah’s gone over to see her friend at High Town Farm, by the way. She’ll not be back till tonight.’

  ‘Oh, yes. I forgot. She did tell me. Where are you going?’ she demanded, seeing him edge towards the door.

  ‘Got to get on. Things to do,’ he muttered vaguely.

  ‘Not yet, you haven’t!’ She smiled and beckoned to him. ‘This calls for a celebration. Come on! I’ll buy you lunch at “The Leaping Salmon”.’

  ‘You’ll buy me lunch?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘I don’t know that that would be right.’

  ‘Well, I do. I owe you such a lot. Besides, there’s more business to talk about.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘So fetch your coat. Let’s go. I’m starving.’

  He looked at her speculatively for a long moment. Then he smiled that smile she was beginning to associate with him. He’d come round.

  The pub was as busy as it had been the last time she was there. Even more so, she thought, gazing round with interest. ‘It’s a popular place, isn’t it?’

  He nodded. ‘They do a good meal here, which is half the battle these days.’

  She wondered how he knew. Eating out? Old times, probably.

  They ordered. Then it was time to talk business.

  ‘Tom, you’ve done a super job on the shop. You really have.’

  He chuckled. ‘Surprised you, eh?’

  ‘Well...’

  ‘I liked the work, actually. I enjoyed it. Once I got started, I realised how much I’d missed it.’

  ‘Maybe you should keep it up?’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Well, if my experience is anything to go by, Cragley doesn’t have enough working joiners and carpenters. I could still have been waiting next year for Harry Cummings to turn up.’

  ‘Or the year after, maybe.’

  ‘Or the one after that. If then – if ever!’

  ‘There’s certainly plenty of work for a skilled man,’ Tom said cautiously. ‘I’ll give you that. And I could do with the money.’