The Village Shop for Lonely Hearts

by Alison Sherlock

  She thought back to Grandma Tilly’s photograph and, without the present-day clutter and muddle, she focused on the positive points of the building. What had it retained from all those years ago? It had beams. It was a large space. The veranda was certainly another plus. It had character. Or it could have if she could just find some…

  Suddenly she saw it. A clear vision as to how amazing the shop could be. She sat bolt upright in the bath, slopping bubbles over the side. She saw clean white walls, showing the uneven original plaster. In front, some tall shelving units. Painted dark oak to match the beams. The floor too needed a coat of varnish and would be shiny. The leaves and decorations in the window could be extended to the shelves. Fairy lights and strings of autumnal leaves lay across the top and could even be hung around the beams as well.

  Feeling excited, she quickly got out of the bath, grabbed her towel and rushed across to her bedroom. She found her drawing pad and sat down on the bed as she drew, her pencil flying over the page.

  She then grabbed her coloured pencils and coloured in the shelves and fireplace that they had only discovered that day. The decorative leaves were added, as were a few other touches.

  She finally stopped and looked down at her design. It worked! Almost, she realised. What was missing? She wasn’t sure. The walls of the shop looked good. She had sketched in the pretty fireplace. But there was a gap in the middle of the floor. What display could it hold there?

  Amber bit her lip, but she couldn’t think of anything.

  She stood up and paced up and down. What was wrong with her? She normally discovered the missing piece really quickly.

  She went to the doorway, listening out for any signs of movement. But Josh was still over at the pub.

  She just needed to look at the shop one more time. So she grabbed her drawing pad and pencil before rushing downstairs, still only dressed in her towel.

  The argument behind the bar in the pub was getting even louder.

  ‘I told you the satellite dish needed looking at!’ shouted Angie.

  ‘No, you didn’t!’ hollered Mick. ‘You nagged me about everything other than that!’

  ‘I did! You just weren’t listening as per usual!’

  Josh drained the last of his pint. So much for a beer in front of the football match. BT Sport had stopped working and the television only showed an error message.

  He shrugged on his coat and made eye contact with Belle, who was standing behind the bar and looking as if she were wishing she were anywhere else but there.

  ‘Thanks for the relaxing drink,’ he said.

  She gave him a small smile. ‘Love may be blind, but it’s marriage that’s the real eye-opener,’ she told him, glancing behind her as the shouting became even louder.

  ‘Will you be OK?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh yes,’ she told him, with a weary smile. ‘They were due a good argument, otherwise it’s all just simmering tension and veiled threats. I’ll head up to bed soon and leave them to it.’

  ‘Goodnight then,’ said Josh, heading over to the door.

  ‘Goodnight,’ he heard her call out.

  In the cool night air, he felt calmer once more. At least his parents’ marriage had been a happy one, he reminded himself. Certainly not the shouting awfulness of Mick and Angie’s wedded unbliss.

  Heading back across the pedestrian bridge, he thought he saw a light on in the shop, but he figured it must have been the reflection of the fairy lights. He was also incredibly tired. It had been an emotional few days, saying goodbye to his mum and then beginning to clear the shop. He was grateful for Amber’s calm presence to keep him company as they worked through the mess.

  He unlocked and then pushed open the back door and stopped suddenly upon hearing a sound. There was definitely somebody in the shop.

  ‘Who’s there?’ he called out, switching on the light.

  He heard a gasp and, grabbing a nearby hammer from the toolkit next to the tractor, he surged forward, expecting to come face to face with a burglar.

  He came to an abrupt halt when he found Amber standing in the middle of the shop wearing only a short bath towel which barely covered the tops of her legs.

  She was staring at him wide-eyed and clutching a drawing pad.

  He tried to think of something witty to say, but he was too mesmerised by her still damp shoulders in the overhead light, as well as the blush on her cheeks.

  ‘I thought you were out!’ she moaned, clutching the paper even closer to her chest. Her brown eyes were blinking rapidly in shock.

  ‘The satellite TV stopped working,’ he replied, trying desperately not to stare at her long bare legs.

  He watched as she grabbed the pencil even tighter in her hand.

  ‘What’s that?’ he added, trying to change the subject by nodding at the pad and then abruptly realising that he was actually gesturing at her chest.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ she told him. ‘It’s just a silly drawing.’

  ‘I’d like to see it,’ he said.

  But she was violently shaking her head. ‘Forget it. It was just a stupid idea.’

  ‘Look—’ he began.

  But Amber had finally found her feet and was rushing past him. ‘I’d better go,’ she told him as she headed up the stairs to the flat. He heard footsteps and then her bedroom door slam shut.

  He wondered what on earth she had been drawing down in the shop. Forget it, she had said. But he was going to have real trouble forgetting how incredible Amber looked in that short towel.

  17

  As Amber headed downstairs the following morning, she knew she had to try and be brave when seeing Josh face to face.

  ‘Good morning,’ she managed to say to him, with a cheery smile on her face.

  His eyebrows raised at her overly bright tone of voice, but he merely smiled and said, ‘Good morning’ in reply.

  There, she told herself. That wasn’t so bad, was it? At least she’d been able to speak.

  If only she could do something regarding the absolute mortification she felt about being discovered in only a bath towel in the middle of the shop the previous evening!

  What on earth had she been thinking? She couldn’t believe she could have been so stupid. She had been so wrapped up in her ideas for the shop that she hadn’t even contemplated the notion that Josh might come home early.

  As it was, she had just about managed to stay hidden whilst he had his breakfast that morning, trying to keep her blushing face out of view.

  Thankfully, she could hide her bright red face in one of the many boxes that still needed clearing.

  She was hoping they would get a chance to redistribute the stock that was obsolete but found herself distracted by the bewilderment and somewhat bemusement of their intermittent customers.

  ‘Have I taken a wrong turn somewhere?’ said Stanley, looking around in wide eyed wonder when he came in at his normal time of 9.30 a.m.

  Some of the boxes had already been moved out of the way, others were stacked even higher. It might not have looked any better, but it was some kind of progress, thought Amber.

  ‘We’re having a bit of a clear-out,’ Amber told him.

  ‘Well, if I hadn’t seen your lovely window designs on the way in, I wouldn’t have known it was the same shop,’ said Stanley, looking a little startled. ‘Then again, it’s certainly a little easier to move around. If you could tell me where I can find the newspapers now.’

  ‘They’re here in the back,’ called out Josh, bringing out The Times newspaper to hand over to Stanley. ‘I didn’t want to bring them in here because, well…’ His voice tailed off as he waved his arm around.

  ‘I meant to say to you how the windows look even better at night,’ carried on Stanley, before looking concerned. ‘Dear me, that came out wrong. What I meant to say was that I was going for a walk yesterday evening and I saw a couple of people walking their dogs and looking at your windows. It looked ever so pretty all lit up.’

  ‘Do you think so?’
said Amber, blushing. ‘How kind you are to say so.’

  Stanley picked up his newspaper. ‘It certainly makes Riverside Lane more cheerful in the dark evenings. Good day to you.’

  With a nod, Stanley walked his way back through the shop and out of the front door, the bell ringing out as he left.

  ‘I think you’ve got an admirer,’ said Josh, waggling his eyebrows at her.

  ‘Rubbish,’ muttered Amber, hurriedly looking away to the door, where the bell had just rung once more.

  ‘A bell to announce Belle,’ said Josh, who appeared to be in a very good mood that day, thought Amber.

  Belle rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before.’

  ‘And how are your softly-spoken aunt and uncle today?’ asked Josh, still grinning. ‘Still screaming their love for one another?’

  ‘If the television wasn’t broken before their argument, it certainly is now!’ Belle blew out a sigh. ‘I’m here for a couple of light bulbs,’ she said. ‘Two of the corner lamps were also casualties in last night’s row.’

  ‘I’ll have a look out the back for you,’ said Josh. ‘I think there was a box somewhere.’

  As he disappeared, Belle leant on the counter and stared around. ‘Is it me or does it look even worse than normal in here?’

  ‘We’ve just started to reorganise it all so it looks a bit of a mess,’ Amber told her.

  ‘So you’re staying for a while, I heard,’ said Belle, giving her a friendly smile.

  Amber nodded.

  ‘Well, it’ll be nice to have a bit of female company around here,’ said Belle. ‘Come over to the pub one night and we’ll have a chat over one of my famous gin and tonics. It would be nice to have some female company, to be honest.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Amber, as Josh returned holding a large box. ‘I’d like that.’

  ‘That’s an idea,’ he said, putting the box down on the counter. ‘Poor Amber only has Stanley for company around here.’

  ‘He’s just lonely,’ muttered Amber, blushing. ‘I’m not sure who else he gets to talk to for the rest of the day.’

  ‘Stanley does like to chat,’ said Belle, nodding in agreement. ‘He comes into the pub once a week on a Wednesday night. I think he struggles for company since his wife died.’

  ‘That’s so sad,’ said Amber. ‘He only seems to come in at half past nine each morning.’

  ‘Maybe it’s his routine that keeps him going,’ said Belle, nodding thoughtfully. ‘Mind you, sometimes he’s the only person I really talk to on a Wednesday night as well.’

  It struck Amber that perhaps Stanley wasn’t the only lonely person in the village. Even someone as confident as Belle appeared to struggle for companionship.

  ‘Any ideas which type you want?’ said Josh, rattling the contents of the box.

  Belle peered inside. ‘Those two,’ she said, reaching in to pick out a couple of light bulbs. ‘Right, how much do I owe you?’

  Once she had paid up, Belle pocketed the two bulbs.

  ‘Don’t forget about that gin,’ she said, smiling at Amber before she headed towards the door. ‘By the way, the windows look great. Didn’t recognise the place when I saw them.’

  ‘Not sure I recognise it myself these days,’ said Josh, as Belle closed the door behind her. He looked around the mess. ‘I think we’ve made it worse not any better.’

  Amber thought about what Stanley had said about the people out and about in the evening. ‘By the way, why don’t you open a bit later each night?’

  Josh shrugged his shoulders. ‘Nobody does late-night opening around here, apart from the pub. I mean, there’s no point. It’s like a ghost town.’

  ‘I see,’ said Amber, wondering whether to question him further.

  Josh picked up on her tone. ‘What?’ he asked.

  ‘Grandma Tilly mentioned that some people commute from the village into the towns and cities for work,’ she began. ‘Perhaps they don’t get home until after 5 p.m.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ he said, still looking at her. ‘What’s your point?’

  ‘I’ve done the long commute when I worked in London,’ she told him. ‘You come home late at the station and just want to grab some food.’

  Josh grimaced. ‘Well, they’re not grabbing it from here, according to my sales figures.’

  ‘Because you’re not open after five o’clock,’ she reminded him.

  ‘And we don’t have any kind of convenience food like ready meals,’ he added.

  She nodded. ‘That too.’

  He shrugged his shoulders in response. ‘Look, until we clear the shop, I can’t even think about opening hours and all the rest of it.’

  ‘I know,’ Amber told him. ‘The trouble is that I’m beginning to run out of places to put things.’ She hesitated before going on. ‘I think maybe it’s time for you to move the tractor to clear some space in the back room.’

  Josh almost looked ashen in the light. ‘Yeah, you’re right. I’ll move it after we close up this evening.’

  Once the shop was closed later that day, Amber began to wipe down the dust on the fireplace which they had uncovered.

  But Josh quickly told her to give up. ‘There’s no point cleaning anything in here until that stinky old tractor has come through,’ he told her. ‘Chances are that it’ll leave a trail of oil anyway.’

  She grimaced. ‘Let’s hope not.’ She glanced over to the front door. ‘How are you going to get it down the steps on the veranda?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ve set up a ramp with some sheets of plywood,’ he told her.’ Hopefully they’ll hold the weight.’

  ‘Hopefully?’ she asked.

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Just keep your fingers crossed,’ he said, doubt filling his voice.

  Amber pushed as many boxes as she could to one side whilst Josh went into the back room to fiddle with the tractor.

  ‘Keep out of the way,’ he called out. ‘This could get messy.’

  ‘How messy?’ she called back.

  But he didn’t hear her because he had just turned the key in the ignition. After a couple of splutters, the engine sprang into noisy life. He looked up at her, amazed, as if he hadn’t expected it to continue to turn over. Although the shop was immediately filled with both grey smoke and the immense racket of an ancient engine that hadn’t been started for a very long time.

  Amber was horrified. Was this even safe?

  ‘OK,’ she just about heard Josh shout above the noise. ‘I’ll try and steer it through.’

  Amber crossed her fingers and prayed that he wouldn’t end up crashing through the double front doors, which she had already wedged wide open. Or, in fact, any of the walls.

  The noise of the engine changed to become even louder as Josh crunched the tractor into gear. With a massive jolt, it leapt forward by a foot and she saw him swear to himself in shock.

  Amber pressed herself up against the fireplace, as far back as she could go, severely concerned about her personal safety at that point. Not only was the noise awful, the floorboards were shaking beneath her feet. She held her hand over her nose to stop herself from breathing in too much of the smoky fumes coming from the engine.

  With another, smaller jolt, Josh wrenched the steering wheel over to one side, forcing the wheels to straighten up and aim for the middle of the shop floor.

  This was a bad idea, thought Amber, feeling like she was in the middle of an earthquake. The whole shop was liable to fall down on top of them.

  Trouble was, it was probably too late to point that out now to Josh who was busy hanging on to the steering wheel for dear life as it began to make its juddering roaring journey into the shop.

  If the noise and shaking were bad enough, the smell was horrendous. The whole air was filled with a smoky, oily fug. She wasn’t even sure a good airing would sort the shop out when the tractor was outside.

  If the place didn’t fall apart first, she thought, hanging on to the fireplace for dear life as the tractor slowl
y made its way through the shop.

  This was a terrible idea, she told herself. She just hoped it didn’t end in disaster.

  Josh was using all of his strength to keep the steering wheel straight. The whole tractor was fighting him every inch of the way as if it had never wanted to leave the back room. He was now thinking that it had been better off in there too.

  The noise was horrendous, as was the smell of burning rust, which could be coming from either the exhaust, the engine or possibly both at the same time. He was in serious trouble here.

  He glanced at Amber, whose own horrified face mirrored his own worries as she clung on to the fireplace. But he couldn’t look at her for very long as his whole view kept juddering as the floor beneath him was shaking.

  He glanced down at the wheels. Should he have checked the floorboards were strong enough to hold it? Well, it was too late now, he thought, hanging on with grim determination to get this over with.

  On top of the worry and stress, he felt emotionally drained. The tractor belonged inside. He didn’t want to move it, but he knew that life had to move on. He had to move on with it, but it brought him no joy that he had finally got the thing going, albeit in juddering, huge jolts.

  Somewhere, his father was watching him either laughing hysterically or with his head in his hands in despair.

  He had just drawn level with Amber at the fireplace when the tractor gave a massive bang somewhere in front of him and wheezed to a halt, the engine cutting out.

  In the silence, his ears continued to ring as the smoke poured out from the engine in front of him.

  Amber straightened herself up. ‘What happened?’ she said, waving her hand in front of her face as a combination of steam and smoke streamed out from under the front bonnet.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Josh, turning the key once more.

  But the engine made a loud clanging noise and refused to switch on. He tried the key over and over again, desperately hoping to get it going, but to no avail. In fact, each time he tried, the engine sounded worse and worse. Metal was crunching together, clangs and rattles rang out.