Stanley beamed. ‘I was the headmaster at the local school. I remember your mother and Cathy too. Two peas in a pod, they were, always getting told off for chatting and not concentrating on the task in hand. But how wonderful that you’re here and, might I say, looking just like her. How is she?’
‘She’s well,’ Amber told him. ‘She and dad have just emigrated to New Zealand.’
‘Gosh, how exciting.’ Stanley fixed her with his grey eyes. ‘Of course, that’s a long way from both you and Cathy.’
‘Not so far for me,’ said Amber. ‘I’m just passing through to see Cathy and then I’m flying on to start a new life with mum and dad.’ She didn’t admit that she had no idea what that life was going to entail. Everything was so up in the air at the moment and it was rattling her already shaky self-confidence.
‘Well, I shall look forward to seeing you in the meantime,’ said Stanley, handing over his change for the newspaper.
Stanley left the shop with a small wave and a jingle of the bell over the door.
‘Welcome to Cranbridge,’ said Josh, as he placed the coins inside the till. ‘I’m sure it’s a big change from the excitement of New York.’
He headed off to the other side of the shop, leaving Amber by the till counter.
He was wrong, of course, thought Amber. You could work in an amazing, famous shop in one of the biggest cities in the world and people expected it to be fun and life-changing. But in reality it could still be utterly lonely. Working on the windows of the shop, most of the time had been filled with short conversations regarding props and building the vast displays. Nothing personal. Sometimes she would spend the whole day by herself. And when she left work on a Friday afternoon, chances were that she wouldn’t speak to anyone until she was back there on Monday morning.
The problem with not really speaking to anyone on a daily basis was that you almost lose the habit, thought Amber. You don’t want to go out. You even refuse rare invitations, scared in case you’ve forgotten how to socialise. And yet, she was lonely. Utterly and completely lonely.
But a brief stay in Cranbridge wouldn’t cure that.
Amber checked her phone once more, which thankfully had survived its dunking in the river. And with no update arriving from the airline or landlord, she was stuck there for the time being.
5
It had been a long day, thought Josh, flipping the Open sign over to read Closed in the window of the front door. A day full of dunkings in the river, unspoken words following the argument with his mum that morning and awkward silences. The last thing he felt like doing was keeping anyone company and going out to dinner.
But his mum had found him just as he was bolting the front door locked.
‘We should celebrate,’ she’d said. ‘Go to the pub for dinner.’
‘Celebrate?’ Josh had found himself muttering, wondering what on earth there was to rejoice about.
‘Amber flying over all this way to visit us,’ his mum had replied, rolling her eyes. ‘A change of company for us all. And, I don’t know, why on earth not?’
Because we can’t possibly spare the money, Josh had wanted to tell her. But it was the first time in a long time that she had looked so cheerful and what harm could a few more pounds added on to the credit card do?
He knew though that at some point he was going to have to address their overheads and talk to his mum about reducing their buying of goods and trying to sell off what they could. He had been wondering about selling on the internet but had no idea how to start.
Josh stood on the veranda at the front of the shop, waiting for the family to gather. He looked at the Closed sign on the door. His dad had never wanted to be a shopkeeper. Todd Kennedy had been a man full of life and personality. His lead guitar playing antics were still all over YouTube. He had been a huge magnetic force, instantly drawing people to his side as soon as he entered a room. But the rock and roll lifestyle had taken its toll and once Josh’s grandfather had passed away, his dad had persuaded them all to move to Cranbridge for a quieter life.
Of course, not even a country village could contain Todd’s dazzling personality and he was soon buying all manner of stock from every country fair and market that he could find. The trouble was, it was such a wide range of goods that much of the stock remained unsold and Josh just felt overwhelmed with it all now. Boxes of sellotape jostled for space with long rolls of material. Mounds of front door mats tottered precariously next to tins of baked beans. Garden brooms were alongside wellington boots and children’s toys, knitting needles and car engine oil.
His mum and grandma kept saying that it was the supermarket’s fault that the fortunes of the shop had altered. Times had changed. But the bizarre range of stock and crammed displays certainly didn’t help.
Josh wanted to tidy up the place, get some kind of order somehow. It needed local support. Newer additions, like contactless payment and even online selling. But his mum refused to change anything and so it continued to feel like an impossible task.
In his lowest moments, he dreamt of just taking the whole stock to the council refuse dump and getting rid of it all. But his dad had bought a lot of it, so they at least ought to get some money for it. Besides, it was hardly eco-friendly to add to the global waste.
Indeed, Josh’s biggest dream was to make the shop more environmentally friendly and sustainable. It was a cause close to his heart. Growing up, his dad had taken the family to the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. They had paid for a private boat hire and the driver had been passionate about the ecology of the reef and the impact climate change and industry was having on the coral.
It had struck a chord with twelve-year-old Josh and from that moment on, he had become passionate about saving the planet from the population intent on destroying it in his rebellious teenage years, and he had protested on many Greenpeace demonstrations. At university, he had decided to use his brain to back up his arguments and completed his degree in environmental business studies.
He had been lucky in how swiftly his career as a sustainability manager, helping customers bring greener working practices into their companies, had grown. It had been an extremely satisfying job, making the world a greener place one company at a time. He had visited and worked in some of the richest and most exciting cities in Europe.
And then he had received a phone call out of the blue one morning two years previously. His father had suffered a major heart attack and was unlikely to make it through the night. He had driven at speed to the hospital and just made it in time to squeeze his dad’s hand and say his goodbyes.
Nothing had been the same since. After the funeral, when he had been preparing to get back to his day job, his mother had become unwell. The cancer was swiftly diagnosed with, thankfully, a treatment available. But she had been too fragile, too upset about the shop, for him to turn his back on Cranbridge Stores.
And so he had given up his job, honouring the promise made to his father that he would take care of his mother and grandmother. He had thought it would only be a temporary measure. But he was still here, two years on. Stuck in limbo. He couldn’t update the shop without causing his mum to get upset and she had been through enough. They all had. The trouble was that he was used to being his own boss, but he had absolutely no say in the shop’s business.
At some point he knew he was going to have to be brave and tell his mum that he needed to leave for his own sanity. He just hadn’t the heart to tell her yet.
And so nothing changed except his growing resentment at being stuck in the village.
The truth was that, deep down, he no longer cared about the shop. It was his prison, his captor and he just wanted to move on. And the guilt about his true feelings made him even more miserable.
Amber was the first to join him downstairs before dinner. She was looking uncomfortable, tugging at the blue jumper which he recognised as his mum’s. He felt bad for her that she didn’t even have her own clothes to wear at the moment.
What a come down Cranbridge mu
st be after the glamour of New York, he thought. He didn’t blame her for looking a little overwhelmed at the mess inside Cranbridge Stores. It was all in stark contrast to the glitzy department stores on the streets of Manhattan.
Once they had all gathered together, the family walked around the corner of the shop and across Riverside Lane. Josh glanced down the road, but there was nobody there. The boarded-up shops along the lane just confirmed that nobody had a reason to visit what was the heart of the village any more.
Apart from the shop, the only other business that was open was The Black Swan pub on the other side of the narrow bridge across the river and even that had seen better days.
‘It’s a cheerful atmosphere at any rate,’ he heard his mum say to Amber as they headed through the front door of the pub.
Josh thought of describing the pub with many words, but cheerful probably wasn’t at the foremost in his mind. The Black Swan was pretty run-down these days. It hadn’t been updated for the many years since it had been his father’s local pub, but at least the oak beams and fireplaces kept it on the rustic side of dilapidated.
Like everything else in the village, it wasn’t particularly busy. Only a handful of regulars went in a couple of evenings a week, Josh included. It had become his sanctuary, where he could escape the claustrophobic atmosphere in the shop and flat.
When he had moved into the flat after his father’s funeral, he had assumed it would only be for a few short weeks. Two years later and he was still there.
Mick, the mouthy landlord, didn’t seem to mind that Josh could nurse a single pint of beer for a whole evening. It was all he could afford and the last thing he wanted to do was start relying on alcohol too much in times of stress. He had seen what the similar addiction had almost cost his father in terms of his health. Or at least that was what his dad had told him when he had described his drunken life touring around the world in a rock band.
They found a table quite easily in the relatively empty pub, despite the lively darts competition going on. Then Josh headed up to the bar to order the drinks.
‘Good evening,’ said Mick with a nod. ‘I see you’ve got the family with you tonight.’
Mick was a pleasant enough man with a slightly rumpled face who was always friendly to everyone apart from his own wife, with whom he suffered a hate-hate relationship.
‘And who else is that over there?’ asked Mick, squinting over at the table.
‘Mum’s goddaughter,’ Josh told him.
‘Well, I can’t remember the last time we had a pretty lady in here,’ said Mick, still staring at Amber over Josh’s shoulder.
‘Perhaps it’s the lack of feminine ambience that’s putting them off,’ drawled Josh.
The swearing and shouting of the darts match was increasing by the second.
‘Yeah, probably,’ said Mick. But he didn’t seem to notice or care about the noise.
Unlike his wife, Angie, who appeared suddenly from behind the bar. She rolled her eyes at her husband before turning to shout across the bar. ‘Oy! You lot! Shut it, yeah? We’ve got ladies in here.’
‘In here?’ said one the darts players, looking all around him and then shocked at seeing Cathy, Grandma Tilly and Amber sitting in the corner.
Tilly beamed and waved at the gentlemen whilst Amber shuffled in her seat, obviously uncomfortable at the attention.
‘Nice to the see the family in with you tonight,’ said Angie, her wide smile emphasised by the bright pink lipstick she wore.
Everything about Angie was bright. From her peroxide-bleached big hair, to her pink jumper, blue miniskirt and bright cerise long nails, she was loud and brash.
‘Right, I’m going to watch EastEnders,’ said Angie, pouring herself out a large gin and tonic.
‘I wanted to watch the football,’ said Mick, becoming cross.
‘Tough,’ said Angie, laughing almost manically.
‘Now wait a minute,’ began Mick, following his wife out the back.
The shouting could still be heard by everyone in the pub.
At the end of the bar, their niece, Belle, rolled her eyes and sighed. In contrast to her noisy and quarrelsome aunt and uncle, Belle was always smiling and friendly. That evening, her long black hair was tied back in a ponytail and she was dressed in jeans and a white shirt.
‘Have you got a menu?’ Josh asked her.
Belle looked shocked. ‘A menu?’
‘Mum fancied a nice meal out,’ Josh told her.
Belle was still looking worried. ‘Then I think she’s come to the wrong place.’
She had a point. The only food they ever served in the pub was microwaved and even that wasn’t particularly pleasant. But Cranbridge was hardly bursting with restaurants. In fact, The Black Swan was the only place to eat without having to get in the car to leave the village.
‘It was mum’s idea,’ said Josh.
Belle blew out a sigh. ‘Let me check what’s in the freezer.’
As Belle disappeared into the kitchen, Josh looked around. He shouldn’t like this grubby pub. The décor was from the 1970s. The food was probably cooked in the 1990s. It was worn and shabby and didn’t smell great. And yet he found The Black Swan a comfort. It was a mostly masculine atmosphere which he craved, missing his brother and dad’s company so much.
Belle was friendly, despite her aunt and uncle severely lacking in customer service, but there had never been any kind of connection between them, despite her being a similar age to him. He had always had a hunch that she had been attracted to Pete rather than him. So they remained only friends.
His own love life had been put on hold when he had moved to Cranbridge two years previously. Not that he felt he was missing much. He had enjoyed a string of dates over the years but nobody had ever come close to owning his heart. He knew that love existed. He had seen it between his parents over the many years of their happy marriage. He just wasn’t sure he would ever be so lucky.
He took a quick sip from the pint of beer that had been placed in front of him and glanced around the pub. Aside from the darts competition and his family, the only other customer in the pub was Del the coach driver. Or Dodgy Del as everyone referred to him.
Del had a good heart and would always manage to find anything that anyone needed, especially at short notice. But most villagers had learnt over the years that it was best to never ask where anything connected to Del came from in the first place.
‘All right?’ said Del as a way of greeting, between sips from his pint of cider. ‘So who’s that little beauty you’ve brought in?’ he asked, giving a wink and smile in Amber’s direction.
Josh shook his head warningly at his friend. ‘Just passing through, Del. So hands off.’
Del laughed. ‘Might have known you’d keep a pretty girl like that to yourself.’
‘It’s not like that,’ Josh told him, glancing back over to where Amber was sitting. She had certainly grown up into an attractive woman, shining out like a diamond in the grotty under lit pub.
But Del wasn’t listening as he had just switched his attention back to Belle, who had returned with a handwritten note of microwaveable meals.
‘No worries,’ carried on Del. ‘My heart belongs to the lovely Belle here.’
She gave him a grimaced smile. ‘I’ll try to contain my excitement,’ she told him, her voice laced with sarcasm.
‘Not on my account, sweetheart,’ said Del, grinning.
Thankfully Belle was more than capable of keeping Dodgy Del at arm’s-length, such was her strength of character. She rolled her eyes and handed over the list to Josh. ‘It’s not a great choice, but you already knew that,’ she told him.
He sipped from his pint before carrying back the drinks to the table.
‘Thanks,’ murmured Amber, as she took the gin and tonic from him.
For a second, they locked eyes, her brown to his blue and he felt a jolt deep within. A spark of something. He looked away as he dropped into his seat. So she was attractive, so
what? He’d dated pretty women before.
But she most definitely wasn’t the type for a fling. And he wasn’t stupid enough to upset his mum any further. Or his own Aunty Denise either. Amber’s mum was an equally formidable character.
So that was where any small amount of attraction ended, he reminded himself. She was going to leave and join her family in New Zealand. He would never see her again, probably.
And he felt even more alone at that thought than ever before.
Josh had told them how awful the food in the pub might be, but Amber was surprised at how bad it actually was.
‘How can they not be able to cook chips?’ she asked, prodding a blackened chip with her fork. It was both charred and burnt on the outside and yet still undercooked on the inside.
‘I think Angie has trouble cooking anything with those false nails of hers,’ said Cathy, nodding in agreement. ‘Still, it’s nice to be somewhere different tonight.’
Amber was surprised. From what she had gathered so far, her godmother didn’t like any kind of change, especially in the shop. And yet here she was, craving an alternative to what must be some very lonely nights in the flat. Especially since Grandma Tilly had moved out, although Amber understood that the stairs had become too much trouble for her unsteady legs. She had appeared very eager to invite Amber around the following day to her new bungalow for a cup of tea. Perhaps Grandma Tilly was a little lonely too now that she was living by herself.
Amber’s gaze wandered on to look at Josh. Did he get lonely as well? There was hardly a vast amount of choice of single women around the village from what she’d seen so far. And it wasn’t as if he wasn’t good-looking. She studied him for a moment. Handsome face. Nice eyes. Wide shoulders.
He suddenly turned his head, as if feeling her gaze on him, and she quickly looked down at her plate, blushing. Thankfully she wasn’t really hungry. Her body clock was still running on New York time and all she really wanted to do was climb into bed and sleep forever and a day.
She suppressed a yawn, which unfortunately Cathy caught.
The Village Shop for Lonely Hearts Page 4