The Village Shop for Lonely Hearts

by Alison Sherlock

  He turned away to face the front of the shop. It was the same conversation they had every day. Round and round. And nothing ever changed. The theme of the argument was always the same. He wanted to change the shop. His mum didn’t.

  The business was failing and there was no room for sentimentality. Tough decisions needed to be made. But he knew his mum didn’t want to listen to any of his reasoning. She was still viewing the business through the rose-tinted glasses of the past. From the happier days when his dad had been alive, when everything had been safe and secure. But now all that had changed and she was struggling to face the new reality.

  ‘I think you forget that I let you change the windows and doors, didn’t I?’ his mum added.

  This time, Josh did roll his eyes. ‘They were rotten and it was draughty.’ He had also managed to get the electric circuit board updated so that he no longer feared a fire every time he flicked a switch. It had been a minor victory amongst so much failure.

  The rest of his hard-earned savings had gone into paying off the hefty second mortgage on the place, a burden he had shared with his brother. Unknown to anyone other than Josh and Pete, their dad had remortgaged the shop many years previously. Even their mum wasn’t aware that Todd had gotten himself into financial difficulties. He had been a great father but not so good a businessman. The debts had been quite substantial on top of the mortgage. His dad had bought anything and everything from fairs and warehouse sales, filling the shop with who knows what. There was so much of it and most of it rubbish. But the money problems had remained, so Josh had used up the last of his money to ensure that his mum and grandma had a roof over their heads. Unfortunately he didn’t have enough to cover the shop’s day-to-day debts, which were mounting at an alarming rate.

  ‘You’ve spent too much money on all the updates,’ said Cathy, obviously not wanting to give up the argument quite yet. ‘You didn’t need to get the central heating done in the flat above the shop as well.’

  He didn’t reply, merely turning away to look outside of the window. It was just another row in a long line of them and he felt so helpless, trapped in Cranbridge with none of his business savvy even close to helping out his family. He had been desperate to get away when he was younger, although he loved his family. He wanted to follow his own path and make something of himself. He had turned his passion for battling climate change into a real business. He had worn nice suits, enjoyed being someone whose opinion counted for something. A grown-up with a career.

  But now he was back in the village and it was as if he had stepped back in time. He was even in his childhood bedroom in the flat above the shop. These days he felt like a teenager again, with no room to breathe or grow.

  ‘Your father didn’t like technology,’ he heard his mother say.

  Josh drew in a sharp breath to steady his tone of voice as he continued to face the window. ‘He bought an electric guitar,’ he reminded her. ‘He used that as well as his acoustic one.’

  ‘Humph. That was music.’

  ‘Well, he was a musician.’ He finally turned to look at his mum. ‘The shop needs to change,’ he told her in a gentle tone. ‘Otherwise…’ His voice trailed off. Even at the age of thirty-five he couldn’t say what needed to be said.

  His mum crossed her arms. Defence shields up, he thought.

  ‘It’s fine the way it is,’ she finally said.

  No, it’s not, he thought as she turned to straighten a pile of biscuits next to the till. Did she know how bad it really was? He sometimes thought she did.

  ‘I came back to run the shop,’ he reminded her.

  ‘No, you came back because your father was ill.’

  ‘And then you were ill,’ he said. ‘And Grandma couldn’t do it all by herself, so here I am.’ Stuck in Cranbridge, he added to himself.

  She looked at him, lifting her chin a little. ‘I could have coped.’

  ‘With all the chemotherapy making you so sick?’

  ‘Well, not on those days, but all the others,’ said his mother quickly. ‘Anyway, I don’t want to talk about the chemotherapy. Or any of it.’ She swiftly walked out from behind the counter. ‘I’m going to make a cup of tea,’ she said, rushing through to the back room and up the stairs to the flat.

  Josh sighed. He knew that his mum preferred to stick her head in the sand than confront the reality of their situation. He also knew that she was stressed about the scan results later that week. The doctors had been hopeful last time about the future and yet his stomach was still clenched in fear.

  His mum had fallen ill way too soon after losing his dad, but they had got through the worst of days, hadn’t they? But there always seemed to be another appointment to stress about.

  And he couldn’t face telling her the truth and cause her yet more hurt and worry. So he stayed silent and frustrated, unable to see a way out of their predicament.

  He turned back to look out of the window and watched as Grandma Tilly and Amber slowly walked along the other side of the river.

  He looked at Amber. Her long dark blonde hair shone in the dappled sunlight peeping through the trees. It was almost the same colour as the changing leaves on the oak trees, he thought.

  Perhaps Amber could help his mum see that the shop needed to be reorganised. She was calm, thoughtful. Maybe she would be more gentle than him in persuading his mum to see the light.

  As he continued to watch them, he wondered briefly what Amber’s life had been like since their teenage years. She’d always been so quiet when they had been growing up. That much hadn’t changed. But she had done so well for herself, working in both London and New York.

  The bell above the door rang as Grandma Tilly pushed it open.

  ‘It’s lovely out there,’ she said. ‘I love this time of year.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Cathy, appearing from the back room holding a cup of tea. ‘I saw you both out of the window and I’ve made a cuppa. Do you want one?’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Grandma Tilly, heading over to the seat behind the till. ‘What have I missed?’

  ‘Just your grandson’s daily nagging session,’ said Cathy.

  Grandma Tilly hugged her coat around her in the cool air of the shop. ‘I timed our walk just right then, didn’t I?’ She gave Amber a large wink before looking innocently at Josh.

  ‘Apparently we need updating,’ said Cathy, in a sarcastic tone, looking at Amber. ‘Can you believe it?’

  Amber shuffled from foot to foot, obviously embarrassed about being put on the spot. ‘I don’t know anything about shops,’ she eventually said. ‘Only the windows.’

  ‘Maybe you can do something with ours,’ said Grandma Tilly. ‘I’ve always loved the big bay windows here.’

  Amber looked startled at the suggestion. ‘Oh, I don’t know…’

  ‘They couldn’t look any worse,’ carried on Grandma Tilly.

  ‘Excuse me, I did those windows this summer,’ said Cathy, looking slightly affronted.

  Grandma Tilly grinned. ‘I know you did, my darling. I just think we’ve got this amazing window dresser in our midst for a while. Don’t you think we could use Amber’s talents?’

  Everyone turned to look at Amber, who was now very pink in the cheeks. ‘If you think it would help,’ she muttered. ‘Of course I’ll redecorate them for you.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Grandma Tilly, grinning.

  ‘See?’ said Cathy in a triumphant tone of voice as she looked at Josh. ‘And you said I couldn’t make changes around here!’

  Josh went to speak but found no words coming out. It was hardly the massive changes that were required. He supposed it was a start, but how could two windows change their fortunes for the better?

  8

  Amber had agreed to create a new window display for Cranbridge Stores, mainly because it made her godmother happier than she had seen her since she’d arrived.

  ‘I’m so pleased you can do this for us,’ said Cathy, putting her arm around Amber’s shoulder and giving it a squee
ze before looking up at Josh. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘If you think it’ll help,’ he said, with a shrug.

  Despite being riddled with self-doubt, Amber felt a small flush of indignance. Was he questioning her expertise? ‘The point of any kind of window dressing is to draw in customers,’ she found herself saying in a prim tone of voice.

  ‘There!’ said Cathy, with a firm nod. ‘What she said. Amber, you do whatever you want with the windows. After all, you’re the one with the training and talent.’

  Amber saw Josh’s face drop at his mother’s words.

  ‘I think I’ll just go and see it from the outside,’ she said, anxious not to get in the middle of yet another argument. So she headed outside to get a view of the windows from the road in front of the shop.

  It was a beautiful morning, with not a single cloud in the pale blue sky. The low sun was peeping through the yellowing leaves of the trees lining the riverbank. The dappled light danced off the slow-running river as it carried on through the village.

  All around there were the telltale signs that autumn had begun, from the rustling of the dried leaves picked up by a soft breeze to the trees ablaze in golden and crimson hues.

  Heading down the steps from the veranda and onto the lane, she couldn’t resist bending down to pick up a bright red maple leaf that had caught on her trainers.

  ‘Good morning,’ said a voice.

  She turned round to find Stanley walking slowly towards her. ‘Good morning,’ she replied.

  ‘Isn’t it a beautiful one?’ he said, smiling appreciatively at the view all around them.

  She nodded. ‘It is. Are you heading in for your newspaper?’

  ‘Plus a couple of extra tins for the harvest festival at the church this weekend. It seems to have come around so quickly and all I appear to be is another year older.’ He paused and looked at her. ‘And what are your plans for this fine day?’

  ‘I’ve been tasked with decorating the front windows,’ she told him.

  ‘How lovely,’ he said, nodding his approval. ‘I cleaned mine just last week.’

  As Stanley went up the stairs and into the shop, Amber gave the two large bay windows a proper look.

  Stanley had a point. Both windows were dusty and grimy, which was hardly the right starting point for a big display. So her first job was going to be cleaning them inside and out.

  She went back inside and began to clear the clutter of goods that were in front of the window. Thankfully both Josh and Cathy appeared to be busying themselves elsewhere in the shop and flat so she was left to her own devices which suited Amber just fine.

  Amongst all the tins and boxes on the windowsills, she found a few dead bugs as well as some dried leaves which had obviously been swept in when the front door had been open. The leaves were quite pretty as they were obviously from the large oak tree, so she put them to one side.

  Once cleared, she was pleased to find that the window ledges were quite wide so would hold a substantial display. Once she had decided on the theme, of course. That piece of inspiration was still eluding her.

  For now she decided to concentrate on the cleaning. Grabbing a bucket from the back room, she filled it with washing-up liquid and hot water before beginning to soap down both the windows and ledges.

  ‘Here,’ said Grandma Tilly, handing her a shammy leather once she had finished. ‘I’m sure all of this is a bit of a comedown from that fancy department store though.’

  ‘It was never that glamorous,’ Amber told her.

  And it was true. The majority of her work had been toiling in the tight window spaces, using sellotape, glue and anything else that would hold the elaborate displays together. From the front window, they were fabulous and artistic, but from behind they were far less glamorous.

  As she wiped down the window ledge, she realised that it would be seen from both inside and outside the shop and therefore she didn’t have the luxury to hide any staging. It would have to work from every angle.

  ‘So sad that you were made redundant,’ carried on Tilly. ‘You must have loved that job.’

  Amber’s smile faltered. Had she loved that job? Only the actual design part. The head of window dressing had been a difficult woman who took the credit for a number of Amber’s ideas. She had been sour to work with and there had always been an atmosphere. In retrospect, it had been a small relief to have been made redundant, although it had left her both jobless and homeless.

  Something must have shown in her face as Amber realised that Tilly was studying her. She quickly carried on polishing the glass.

  ‘This is a super space to use,’ said Amber, changing the subject. ‘Really wide and deep, which will be great.’

  ‘I’ve always loved these windows,’ said Tilly. ‘I used to pop a small Christmas tree in one of them when Advent arrived.’

  ‘You should do the same this year,’ Amber told her.

  Tilly made a face. ‘Think I’ll leave that kind of thing to you, dear. I should probably just stick to my knitting. After all, I’m surplus to requirements these days.’

  But Tilly’s words had no pleasing tone and Amber wondered whether she felt at a bit of a loose end now that she had moved out of the flat upstairs.

  When she had finished cleaning, Amber went outside to look at the windows once more, this time from the veranda. At least the light now bounced off the newly polished glass. The problem now was what to fill the space with.

  Deep in thought, she stepped down from the veranda and back onto the lane. She stood and stared around the village. Autumn, she thought. Lots of yellows, oranges and reds. Nature. A time of harvest moons and storing up for winter. She thought about the leaves that had been swept inside onto the windowsill. Then she remembered what Stanley had said about the harvest festival. Perhaps that was an idea.

  She had a sudden vision of checked red and white cloth, on top of which were some pumpkins. Apples, as well. Some rosy, some green. Leaves, of course, in all the autumnal colours. Maybe some twigs. Fairy lights for the darkening days.

  That was it! She had her theme. She just hoped it would look as good in real life as it did in her mind.

  Feeling excited, Amber headed back into the shop for supplies. The shop was surely full of things that she could use?

  ‘Is it OK if I borrow a few bits and pieces from around the shop for the display?’ she asked Cathy.

  ‘Of course,’ said Cathy, beaming. ‘What kind of things are you looking for?’

  ‘Glue, string, fairy lights,’ said Amber.

  Cathy looked surprised. ‘I think that kind of thing is in the back room.’

  ‘Have you any kind of spare material as well?’ asked Amber. ‘Like an old tablecloth or something?’

  Cathy and Grandma Tilly looked at each other. ‘Aren’t there a couple of rolls of material in the corner near the stairs?’ said Tilly.

  ‘I think so,’ Cathy replied.

  ‘I’ll have a look,’ said Amber, heading out into the back room.

  As usual, it was full of boxes and very tight to move around. She almost fell over a couple of times, clambering over to get to what she needed. But she soon found the rolls of material that Tilly had mentioned. They were a little dusty, but, to her delight, one of them was a gingham red and white check. It was perfect for the display.

  She found the string and sellotape in the toolbox next to the old tractor. She was just about to head through to the shop once more when she spotted a couple of old wicker baskets, propped up in a dark corner. She grabbed those as well before heading towards the window.

  Amber spent a very happy couple of hours brushing down the cloth of dust and cleaning the wicker baskets ready for the display. All the time, her mind was racing with ideas for the display.

  In addition, she went outside and found a couple of short, thin branches which were laying on the ground near to the river. She also picked up many leaves, selecting those which were whole and mud-free.

  Once back inside, she
began to stick the leaves onto the string and let them dry before winding them around the fairy lights that Cathy had found for her from the Christmas decorations.

  ‘You’re working ever so hard,’ said Cathy, popping a biscuit and cup of tea on the windowsill next to where Amber was gluing the leaves onto the stick.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Amber, thinking that it was the most enjoyable day she’d had at work for a long time.

  The lack of anyone overseeing her designs had made her feel far more relaxed than she could remember being at work. With nobody judging or criticising her choices, she had been free to bring her own ideas to life.

  Cathy was still watching her and smiling. ‘Oh, I knew that you coming to stay with us was going to change things for the better.’

  Amber hoped that Cathy wasn’t investing too much hope into what could only be a couple of small window displays. But at least it was nice to see her godmother cheerful. She just hoped she could produce a display that the whole family liked, even Josh.

  But, as usual, her work was tempered by her own nagging self-doubt that she would never be as talented as she hoped she could be.

  9

  Josh had been somewhat bemused by his mother’s suggestion that Amber dress the windows of the shop. In the scheme of things, it was a drop in the ocean compared to all the other changes that needed to be made. But if it kept his mum in a better mood than she had been in lately then who was he to argue?

  Before he went to the cash and carry to pick up the meagre supply of milk and cheese for the shop and home, he had watched as Amber had gone to and from the stockroom. String, tape, old crates and even a pair of old wicker baskets had all been commandeered from their hiding places before being cleaned up and taken down to the front of the shop. A red and white checked cloth had caused Amber to smile more than he had seen her so far.

  Even so, his expectations were low as to what she could pull off with such low-impact supplies. After all, their shop hardly had the similar budget or resources of a New York department store.