‘I’ll have this one with the swans on,’ Mrs. Ord decided eventually, after considering one with cats, and another with cocker spaniels.
‘Oh, yes. The swans on the river at Berwick.’
Mrs. Ord nodded. ‘He likes birds.’
‘He should like that card, then. Everyone loves swans.’
Mrs. Ord agreed. Then she added, ‘You’ve been on holiday, have you? I see the shop was closed?’
‘Yes. I went to visit friends in Kent.’
‘Nice. You won’t have heard the news, then?’
‘What news, Mrs, Ord?’
‘About Tom Laidlaw?’
Jenny looked up. ‘What do you mean? What’s happened?’
‘The accident.’
‘What accident? Mrs. Ord?’
‘He had an accident at work. Something fell on him, or he fell down or something. The paramedics had to take him to hospital.’
Jenny felt a tightness in her chest. She stood still, trying not to panic.
‘He’s not too bad, though. He’s back at home now, I believe.’
As soon as she could get rid of Mrs. Ord, Jenny hurriedly closed the shop and rushed next door.
James opened the door. ‘Hi! How are you doing?’
‘I’ve just heard about the accident, James.’ Jenny said hurriedly. ‘How’s your dad?’
‘All right. Are you coming in?’
‘Is he in bed?’
‘At this time of day?’ James chuckled. ‘He’s in the kitchen.’
He would be in a wheelchair, probably, Jenny thought. Or one of those special beds. It would be easier to have it downstairs. More convenient. James and Hannah couldn’t be rushing up and down the stairs all day.
He was actually in a chair.
‘Jenny! Hannah said you were back. How...’
‘Never mind that, Tom. How are you? I just found out about the accident. Mrs. Ord...’
She stopped, breathless, realising Tom looked pretty normal. In one piece, at least.
‘I thought it was funny no-one came round when I got home,’ she continued slowly. ‘Then Mrs. Ord told me. How are you? What happened, actually?’
She stopped again.
Tom held up a hand. There was a thick bandage on his thumb.
‘I had to have six stitches in it,’ he said, eyes twinkling.
Jenny stared, aghast. ‘Is that all?’ she demanded.
He nodded. ‘How bad did you want me to be?’
Relief flooded through her. ‘Oh, you fool!’ she snapped, more to herself than to him.
‘Steady on! I cut it. That’s all. Had to go to hospital in Berwick.’
‘But Mrs. Ord said the ambulance...’
‘I couldn’t drive myself, could I?’
‘Oh, Tom!’
She laughed and closed her eyes for a moment. ‘I was so worried.’
‘About what? Me?’
She laughed again and rushed to plant a kiss on his cheek. He hugged her. ‘I’m all right,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry about me. It’s good to see you back,’ he added.
‘It’s good to be back,’ she murmured.
She closed her eyes and stayed where she was, glad to be so close to him, happy to have him hold her. He kept hold.
‘How silly of me,’ she said eventually. ‘I thought ... Oh, that Mrs. Ord!’
‘A right doom monger, isn’t she?’
Jenny nodded, but she was no longer upset or unduly bothered about Mrs. Ord. Or the accident. Especially when he kissed her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘So you’ve got a poorly finger?’
He nodded and grinned.
‘Anything else?’
‘Not a thing.’
‘Sure?’
‘Sure.’
‘I’m so glad, Tom.’ She laughed ruefully and shook her head. ‘That Mrs. Ord! What about Hannah? Is anything wrong with her?’
‘Hannah? No. She’s fine. Moody, but fine.’
‘She seemed so … so distant. I couldn’t understand it.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘About what? Don’t worry about what?’
Tom looked awkward for a moment.
‘What is it, Tom? What are you not telling me?’ She pulled away a little, so she could see his face more clearly. ‘Is it James again?’
He shook his head. ‘James is fine, too.’
‘Tom!’
He gazed at her and shrugged apologetically. ‘It’s nothing.’
‘Tom!’
He reached a decision. ‘OK, then. You want to know the truth? Here it is. Hannah thinks you’ll leave. She thinks you’re probably going to go back to Kent.’
She stared at him.
‘We all do,’ he added with a shrug. ‘We’ve been worried. Upset.’
‘About me?’ she said wonderingly. ‘Tom! I had a week’s break. I visited Kat and her husband. They’re old friends.’
‘I know, but...’
‘That’s all, Tom.’
He shrugged again. ‘She thought you wouldn’t come back, and even if you did...’
She was puzzled, as well as happy. She stared at him until what he was saying sank in.
‘Poor girl. I must talk to her.’
‘If you would.’
‘You were all worried?’ she said slowly.
He nodded.
‘You, too, Tom?’ she whispered, hardly daring to say it.
‘Very much,’ he said huskily, his face flushed.
‘Why would you worry?’
‘Why do you think?’ He smiled and looked embarrassed. ‘I’m very fond of you, Jenny. I’m not much with words, but a man can have hope, can’t he?’
‘Hope, Tom? What do you mean?’
‘Well, I know you’re soft on Will Renfrew. Why wouldn’t you be? He’s a good man. A lot to offer. Still … I hoped that if it didn’t work out ... One day, maybe.’
Her heart was pounding. She held her breath. ‘Tom, I...’
‘I know, I know! Silly, isn’t it? But even if it is silly to think like that, I wouldn’t want you leaving.’
Somehow, through all this, the answer to a little mystery revealed itself. She guessed now why Hannah had been so puzzled.
‘Tom, have you been sending me flowers?’
He shrugged.
‘Tom?’
‘Once or twice, maybe,’ he said diffidently.
She wrapped herself round him. ‘You lovely, wonderful man!’ she murmured. ‘And all this time I thought you couldn’t possibly be interested in me.’
He smiled and reached for her. They kissed again, and she felt the thrill of being kissed by the man she wanted to do just that.
‘I’m fond of Will Renfrew, as you put it,’ she said moments later. ‘But he’s a friend, that’s all.’
‘I thought...’
‘I’ve told him so. Yesterday, when he brought me home. I told him. You, and Hannah and James, are who I’ve always longed to be with, Tom.’
He shook his head and hugged her with delight. They gazed at each other with wonder.
‘That’s what I wanted, as well,’ Tom said. ‘You here with me. But I never thought it would happen.’
‘Shush!’ she said, gently laying a finger across his lips.
The front door slammed shut with a bang. ‘Missed it!’ Hannah called, as she came hurtling into the room. ‘Missed the so-and-so school bus. What am I ... What’s all this?’ she demanded, incredulity giving way to a smile that spread like the rising sun across her face.
Jenny giggled and tore herself away from Tom. ‘Hannah, let me set you straight. I’m not leaving Cragley. This is where I want to be.’
‘I thought...’
‘And I have no intention of marrying Will Renfrew. In fact, your dad and I...’ She broke off to glance at Tom.
He nodded. ‘It’s true,’ he said.
Hannah let out a whoop and raced out of the room, ‘James!’ they heard her calling up the stairs. ‘James! Guess what.
’
‘We’ve started something now,’ Tom said happily.
Jenny smiled and nodded. ‘Haven’t we just.’
The twins came into the room, faces flushed with excitement.
‘I’ve told him!’ Hannah said. ‘I’ve told him you’re staying – and everything!’
‘We’re very pleased,’ James confirmed. He tried to be solemn, serious, but his face soon dissolved into a smile as big as Hannah’s.
Jenny got up to hug and kiss them both.
‘Show her, Dad,’ James said later.
‘What?’
‘You know!’ Hannah insisted.
She got up and brought across a couple of little stools from the far side of the kitchen. Jenny had noticed them, and had admired them.
‘Crackets,’ Hannah said.
‘We know the shop trade is a bit slack,’ Tom said. ‘So we put out heads together while you were away, to see if we could come up with anything to help.’
‘You made these?’ Jenny asked.
He nodded. ‘‘They’re called crackets. Just simple little things the pitmen used to make for themselves. Hannah noticed some in a pine shop in Morpeth.’
‘They sell well, the woman there said,’ Hannah added. ‘She told me people like them as souvenirs, and for little children.’
‘They are attractive,’ Jenny said thoughtfully, turning one over in her hands.
‘I thought I could make a few for you. An extra line for the shop?’
‘What a lovely idea! Thank you, Tom.’
‘James, here, had an even better idea.’
James shrugged diffidently. ‘Online selling,’ he said. ‘Internet sales. You don’t even need people coming to the shop.’
‘I had wondered about that,’ Jenny admitted. ‘But you need a website, and...’
‘A website, yes,’ James said. ‘I’ve built one for you. It’s just rough at the minute, but it could soon be made operational. There’s internet companies that do that for you.’
‘You’ve built one!’ Jenny shook her head. ‘James, that’s amazing.’
‘We thought it might help.’
Jenny looked at the three of them, each in turn. ‘Pool our resources?’ she said, smiling. ‘Is that what you were thinking? A family business?’
There were murmurs of agreement.
‘What wonderful people you are!’
Tom looked relieved. ‘Go and see what’s happening in the outside world,’ he told the twins.
‘Your dad and I have a few things to discuss,’ Jenny added. ‘Quite a lot, actually.’
James and Hannah laughed and departed readily.
‘What a wonderful morning,’ Jenny said, smiling lovingly at Tom.
‘What a wonderful life,’ he murmured in return.
‘Oh, yes,’ she agreed. ‘Oh yes, indeed!’
If you enjoyed reading A Place of Her Own, you might be interested in A New Beginning by Miranda Barnes, also published by Endeavour Press.
Extract from A New Beginning by Miranda Barnes
Chapter One
Kirsty stopped the car on the brow of the hill and gazed with growing excitement at the view. There it was! She smiled and gave a little shiver. Perfect. Just as she remembered it. Exactly as she remembered it. Apart from the “For Sale” sign flapping in the wind. She wondered what that was about.
Fells Inn. Ancient. Built of Lakeland stone. Painted white. The centrepiece of the hamlet called Fells. Behind it the lake, and then the mountainside, Goat Fell, sweeping up to the sky. The sky, of course, was deep blue, like the lake. And the whole scene was bathed in brilliant spring sunshine. Just as it should be.
She smiled and chuckled aloud. Then she reached for the ignition key, restarted the engine of her little VW Polo and began the long descent down the steep, winding lane to the lakeshore. So far, so good. Her hopes were high.
The car park behind the inn was a muddy morass dotted with shallow ponds. Winter rain on top of ground already waterlogged, and then churned by the comings and goings of so many vehicles, had taken its toll. Kirsty took one look, winced and reversed the car, to park on the road at the front of the building. One thing she had not brought was a pair of wellies. Obviously a big mistake.
She took just one of her bags to start with and headed for the entrance. She paused uncertainly just inside the front door and gazed around with growing pleasure. So she hadn’t imagined it! Her memory hadn’t played her false. It really was like this.
Blackened ceiling beams. Dark-wood panels on the walls. Gleaming brasses hung seemingly at random. Glass display cases here and there, containing stuffed fish and preserved feathered creatures. Ancient stone-flagged floor, and chairs and tables almost as old. A log fire gently smouldering in the massive stone hearth, not quite ready to burst into flames.
No-one in sight, though. She stood patiently at the bar, and after a minute or two a young man arrived with a harassed look. ‘Yes?’ he enquired. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Hello. I have a room reservation for the week. Kirsty Johnson.’
‘Oh, right. I’ll get one of the girls to come and see to you. I’m a bit busy myself. Can I get you a drink? Cup of tea? Anything else?’
She declined the offer. All she really wanted at this stage was to settle into her room and have a rest. It had been a long journey.
‘I have been here before,’ she said, ‘but a long, long time ago.’
‘That right? I’ll just see who’s here to get you booked in.’
He turned and disappeared through a doorway behind the bar. She felt slightly disappointed. It hadn’t been much of a welcome. She shrugged. The man was busy.
Yet she seemed to be the only customer. The lunch-time rush was over and no doubt the other guests were all out or resting. The staff, too, it appeared. The poor man was having to do everything himself.
Eventually a woman about her own age, mid-thirties, arrived with a bright smile.
‘Hello there! Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Carol. How can I help?’
‘I need booking in – I’ve been told.’
Carol looked puzzled.
‘The young man...’
‘Didn’t he do it?’
Kirsty shook her head. A small frown raced across Carol’s face. ‘Men!’ she muttered indignantly.
Kirsty smiled.
Carol reached for a heavy book, the register presumably. ‘I hope you’ve not been waiting long?’
Kirsty shook her head. ‘Only a minute or two.’
‘Room Number Three,’ Carol said, peering hard at the register. ‘I don’t know why Henry couldn’t do this himself.’
‘Henry?’
‘The manager. The owner, actually. You just spoke to him.’
Kirsty nodded and gave Carol a sympathetic smile. She knew what managers could be like. Some of them were of the view that you didn’t keep a dog and still bark yourself.
‘Right.’ Carol closed the book, picked a key off a hook and turned to lead the way upstairs. ‘We’re quiet at the moment,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘So you’ve got a choice of rooms. If you don’t like Number Three, I can show you one or two others.’
But the room was lovely. At least, it had a wonderful view of the lake, which was all Kirsty was really interested in at that moment.
‘How beautiful.’
Carol smiled and stood back while Kirsty leaned against the window ledge and peered out across the water.
‘Do you know,’ Kirsty said, ‘I believe I’ve had this room before. I came here once or twice as a little girl with my parents, and I’m sure this is the room I used to have.’
‘Really?’ Carol said with an indulgent smile. ‘Fancy you remembering that.’ She glanced around and added, ‘I don’t suppose the room is any different at all. Even the wallpaper will probably be just the same.’
Kirsty looked round, noticed the wallpaper was a bit ragged and faded in places, and nodded her agreement. ‘I think you’re right.’
She c
aught Carol’s eye and they both began to laugh.
‘If the window rattles in the wind,’ Carol advised, ‘just jam a bit of folded paper or a beer mat between the cracks. These old sash windows leave a lot to be desired. And if you get cold, there’s spare blankets in the wardrobe.’
‘You’ve thought of everything,’ Kirsty said, smiling happily.
‘You have to, to survive in a draughty old place like this.’
‘The view’s nice, though.’ Kirsty watched as a sudden rain squall moved like a tornado across the placid surface of the lake.
‘Oh, yes. The view’s lovely – as long as it’s not raining.’
***
By six-thirty she was ready for her evening meal. She made her way downstairs and settled at the end of the room, “The Bar”, where tables were set out for dining. She studied the menu placed on her table. Judging by the greasy feel of the card, it had been in use a long time. The unadventurous list of contents tended to suggest the same thing.
She opted for the grilled salmon and made her way to the counter to order. The man who had greeted her when she arrived was there, manning the pumps. Henry, she remembered Carol had said his name was.
‘Be with you in a minute,’ he called.
She nodded and smiled, and watched him continue to unload glasses from a dishwasher. Obviously no nonsense with him about customers coming first.
‘Come on, Henry!’ a man at the far end of the bar called. ‘This is no way to run a business. You’ve got customers standing here, parched for a drink. And that young lady looks in need of nourishment.’
Henry reluctantly conceded the point and left the glasses to dry a bit longer. He gave Kirsty a weary smile and came to take her order. ‘I’m working my fingers to the bone,’ he complained, ‘and do I get appreciated?’
‘Is that why you’re selling the place?’
He nodded. ‘One of the reasons. I’ve had enough here. Been here far too long.’
‘How long?’
‘All my life.’
‘Really? You were born here?’
He nodded. ‘Twenty-nine years’ ago. I have to get out before I’m thirty.’
‘So it must have been your parents that had the place when I came here as a little girl.’
A Place of Her Own Page 11