by Kate Field
A knock on the door disturbed the idyll and a moment later Ros entered the room. She looked around and smiled.
‘This looks a picture of perfect domestic happiness,’ she said. ‘Thanks for stepping in, Mim. I see you have everything under control. It seems a shame to disturb you all.’
‘It’s been fun,’ Mim replied. Then, because she didn’t want either Ros or Corin to think she was making herself too comfortable, she added, ‘I don’t mean this bit. We had fun before this. We did some painting and chased each other round the garden.’
‘Thanks for clarifying which part was fun,’ Corin said with a smile. ‘I’m sorry Winnie the Pooh wasn’t entertaining enough. I’ll choose something more exciting next time.’
Next time? That wasn’t likely to happen. Mim was about to point that out when Corin sprang up from his chair and joined his sister.
‘How did it go?’ he asked in a low voice.
‘Everything’s good. Number three will be joining us in late July. I couldn’t be happier.’ Her words were backed up by an enormous smile. She was an extraordinarily beautiful woman and now her evident joy made her even more so.
‘I’m delighted for you.’ Corin dropped a kiss on Ros’s forehead and pulled her into a hug. Mim marvelled at how similar they were, with their elegant frames entwined, dark heads bent together, matching smiles of pleasure. ‘Mum must be thrilled.’
‘She is. She had no idea what was happening until we arrived at the hospital. You know that she’s longing for as many grandchildren as possible.’
‘I do know.’ That sounded a heartfelt comment from Corin. ‘And I love you for sparing me the job.’
‘You will never be spared, son and heir.’ Ros laughed and squeezed his hand. ‘I’ve bought you some time, that’s all.’
Mim had been listening to this exchange with open curiosity. Ros was pregnant again? Mim was exhausted after a few hours of looking after two children; she couldn’t imagine how Ros would manage with a third – or, frankly, how she’d found the energy to be expecting a third at all. Mim was ready for bed and sleep was the only thing on her mind. The thought made her yawn.
‘Sorry,’ Ros said, smiling at Mim. ‘Have they worn you out? I’ll take them off your hands and you can carry on without them.’ She flicked a mischievous look between Mim and Corin, and Mim caught the resemblance to Lia in it. She struggled out from under the blanket and stood up.
‘I’d better be going anyway if you don’t need me any more,’ she said, looking round for her shoes. She spotted them by the front door, lined up between Corin’s and the children’s. How had that happened? Her coat was hanging above them on the pegs. She pulled it down.
‘Shall I walk you home?’ Corin asked. ‘It’s dark now.’
‘You’re all right. I can manage.’ She opened the door, and a gust of wind blew in and broke the spell of the cosy room inside. She smiled at Corin. ‘Thanks for the story.’
Chapter Nine
Mim didn’t see any member of the Howard family over the next few days. There were no early morning knocks on the caravan door, no encounters on the lane, no visits to the Boat, no more stories in front of the fire. She was surprised how much she missed them, after only knowing them a few weeks. But contact didn’t completely stop. She found a carrier bag outside her door one morning, beside Bobby’s box of vegetables. There were two paperback books inside it, one about an attempt to climb Mount Everest and one about an expedition to the North Pole. They looked like well-thumbed books. There was a sticky note stuck on the cover of one with a few words written in a neat hand:
A couple of my favourites. You might find them more fun than Winnie. Corin.
She’d told Heather she wasn’t a reader and that was true. But she picked up the book on Mount Everest one breakfast time, intending only to flick through the pictures, and she was soon so engrossed that she only made it for her shift in the deli with a minute to spare. She read it in her lunch break, huddled in the car when it rained and on the beach when it was dry; she read it in the gap between shifts at the shop and at the bar; and even at the end of an exhausting day, she devoured more pages as she curled under her duvet at night.
She sought Corin out as soon as he arrived for dinner at Vennhallow on Monday evening, even though he was the last to arrive and Bea was trying to usher everyone towards the dining room.
‘Thanks for the books,’ she said. ‘I’ve started the one about Everest. It’s brilliant.’
‘You like it?’ He looked genuinely pleased. ‘I hoped you might. The author showed incredible resilience, carrying on to the summit despite the initial difficulties. That’s why it reminded me of you.’
With that cryptic comment, he let Bea lead him to the dining room. Mim hadn’t been in here before and it was as impressive as the rest of the house. A long wooden table filled the centre of the room and was set with seven places. An array of crystal glasses and ornate cutlery glittered in the light cast by a modern chandelier over the table, and the whole scene was reflected back in the dark windows along one wall. Mim thought of the tables she had set in the hotel dining room, with bulk-buy glasses and budget cutlery and china. She’d done her best with it and been proud of the results, but it had never looked as magnificent as this. She would have loved to have laid this table, never mind sitting at it to eat.
Mim was seated at one end of the table with Bill and Lia, while Corin, Bea, and Ros took the other end and Jonty occupied the middle. Corin and Bea carried in the food: platters of thickly sliced roast beef, crisp roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding, and bowls of steaming vegetables. They refused Mim’s repeated offers to help.
‘We’ve not started a diplomatic crisis, have we?’ Bill asked, pointing at the pile of golden Yorkshire puddings in front of Mim. ‘Are we allowed to serve Yorkshire food to a Lancastrian?’
‘There would have been a bigger crisis if you hadn’t,’ Mim replied. ‘I’m impressed. I didn’t know you ate Yorkshires down south.’
‘Are we southerners a more civilised breed than you expected?’ Corin asked. He set a jug of gravy on the table in front of Mim, and laughed as she took a deep breath, inhaling the rich scent. ‘Your nose is twitching like Dickens’s would.’
‘Where is Dickens?’ Mim said, leaning back to check the floor in case she’d missed him. ‘I thought you took him everywhere.’
‘They are totally inseparable,’ Lia called across the table. ‘Is it surprising that Dickens is his only friend when he repeatedly compares people to a dog? You are so mean to poor Mim, Corin. Will Dickens be your date for the Valentine dinner?’
‘I think he might be washing his hair that night.’ Corin sat down next to Bea. ‘I’d do the same if I could.’
‘Don’t be such a misery,’ Bea said. ‘You haven’t been for years. Everyone will be looking forward to seeing you again. We’ll be there en masse this year, as Olly is coming back for the weekend and all the cousins will be attending. It will be like a huge family party. What could be nicer?’
‘Being hung, drawn, and quartered?’ Corin suggested.
Bea laughed and slapped the back of his hand.
‘You are silly. You’ll have a wonderful time. It will be such a treat to show off the son and heir again.’
Corin smiled but, glancing down the table at him, Mim noticed a shadow pass over his face at Bea’s words. She didn’t have time to work it out as Bea turned her attention to Mim.
‘That reminds me, Mim dear,’ Bea said. ‘Are you busy on the Saturday after Valentine’s Day?’
‘I’ll be working at the shop and at the Boat.’ Mim helped herself to a spoonful of roast potatoes. There didn’t look to be many on her plate, so she took a second helping.
‘But no date? That’s good. Paula asked if you’d be free to work at the Valentine dinner as you were so helpful at the wedding.’
‘I’d have loved to but I can’t if it’s on a Saturday.’ It was a shame. She’d earned more at the wedding than from a couple of nights
at the Boat.
‘Don’t worry about the Boat,’ Bea said. ‘Paula is married to Howie. She’ll persuade him to let you have the night off. Good. I’m glad we could sort that out.’
Was it sorted? Mim didn’t think she’d agreed to anything.
‘Perhaps Mim would prefer to make up her own mind,’ Mim heard Corin say in a low voice.
‘Nonsense! The Valentine dinner will be much more fun than that gloomy pub. You don’t mind, do you Mim?’ Bea called.
‘No.’ She smiled. ‘If it pays, I’ll do it.’
It wasn’t until after dinner that the conversation turned to the caravans. Mim had barely spoken during the meal as she was too busy savouring the delicious roast, and equally savouring the atmosphere in the room. There was never a quiet moment. At least one member of the family was always talking, and quite often several were speaking at the same time, bickering or teasing or encouraging each other. Mim had never felt so much love and laughter in a room. This was what she had always imagined having a family would be like. She was happy to eat and watch and she wished that the night could go on and on.
Everyone moved to the sitting room after the meal, another new room to Mim. Enormous, squashy sofas were scattered around the room, all facing towards each other to encourage conversation. Mim sank down next to Lia – literally sank, as Lia would have said, as the sofa was so soft that her bottom sank lower than her knees and she wondered how she was ever going to get up again.
‘Here you are, Mim dear,’ Bea said, passing her a notebook and pen.
‘What do you want me to do with these?’ Mim asked.
‘Make notes of our plans,’ Bea replied. ‘You’ve managed a hotel so I can’t think of anyone more qualified to manage this project. You don’t mind, do you? Besides, apart from Ros, I suspect you’re the most sober person in the room.’
Mim could easily believe that. She’d been amazed at how many bottles of wine had passed around the table that evening. She’d tried some but the red wine they were drinking had clearly been too expensive to appeal to her common palate and she hadn’t managed much of it. Now Bill was pouring out balloons of brandy from a drinks cabinet in the corner of the room.
‘Actually, Dad, do you have any beer?’ Corin asked, declining a glass of brandy. Mim wished she could ask for some too but a couple of minutes later, Corin came up to her, holding a pint of beer in one hand and a half in the other. He moved the half pint glass towards her.
‘Fancy a proper drink?’ he asked. She smiled.
‘Thanks. I’m gasping.’ She reached out and took the pint glass from him, and he laughed and sat down on the neighbouring sofa.
Any concerns Mim still harboured that Bill and Bea might not like the plans for the caravans were swept away within minutes. They both spoke about As You Like It holidays with enthusiasm and excitement, and Mim could hardly keep up with scribbling down their ideas. Bill was on top of all the practical arrangements, such as making sure the gas, electrics, and plumbing were all safe and in working order. He also wanted to repair the veranda outside each caravan and paint them all a more cheerful colour than the current black. Bea was bursting with ideas for improving the inside of the caravans, and mentioned that she was going to ask the designer who had worked on the house to come down from London and have a look.
Mim’s pen paused in her hand. The house was gorgeous, there was no question of that. It was elegant and tasteful, and looked like it had cost a huge amount of money. Mim was worried about damaging something every time she came in. How would an ordinary family have a relaxing holiday if the caravans were fitted out like this?
‘Did you make a note of that, Mim?’ Bea said. ‘I’ll ring Althea this week to see when she can come and look at the caravans. She’s in huge demand but I know she’ll squeeze in a job for me.’
‘Do we need her?’ Mim asked. Everyone stared at her. ‘I mean, she’s done a great job with this house, don’t get me wrong. It’s beautiful. It suits you all. But I’m not sure it would suit a single mum with young children who just wants to have a rest and not worry about getting grass stains on the pale upholstery or sticky finger marks on the glass tables.’
Had she gone too far? No one spoke, which was a rare occurrence in this company. At last Mim received some support.
‘Mim’s right,’ Ros said. ‘I can be anxious taking the children to someone else’s house. I even worry about them making a mess in here, and that’s when I know you wouldn’t be cross. Perhaps the caravans need to be practical rather than beautiful?’
‘Mim? What do you suggest?’ Bea asked.
Mim drank some beer and thought about what would work in the caravans. She wanted them to be cosy, comfortable, relaxing spaces and she knew the perfect example of that. She’d been there this morning. Karen’s campervan, designed by her partner Susie, would make a perfect template with its rich colours, hard-wearing surfaces and clever use of space. It hadn’t cost a fortune either. Karen had told her that Susie had used recycled fabric and remnants to create many of the soft furnishings. Susie would be the perfect person to advise them on refurbishing the caravans, if she felt well enough.
‘There’s no reason why they can’t be practical and beautiful. Can I get back to you on that?’ Mim said. ‘I have an idea, but I need to check whether someone could help. Don’t you think it would be good if any work was done by local people, though? It would make it seem more of a community project. Perhaps Bobby could help with fixing the verandas and doing any painting?’
From the corner of her eye, she saw Lia toss her hair over her shoulder. It couldn’t do any harm if Bobby and Lia were thrown together on this project, could it? She smiled to herself and caught Corin giving her a curious look.
After the initial enthusiasm for setting the project up, Mim found that little thought had been given to the practical arrangements involved in running it day to day. She was met with blank faces when she asked about laundry, cleaning, taking bookings and all the other small details that would need to be sorted out before any visitors arrived. Bill tried his best.
‘Bea and I will produce a set of directions,’ he said, fingering the end of his moustache. ‘How about that? It’s not the easiest place to find, and as you showed us, we can’t assume that everyone will have sat nav.’
‘You can’t assume everyone will have a car,’ Mim pointed out. No one seemed to have thought of that.
‘How will they get here without a car?’ Lia asked. ‘And what will they do when they’re here? They can take the coastal path into the village, but Janet’s deli won’t keep them entertained for long.’
There was a path down to the village? Mim should have thought of that before. It would save petrol if she could walk to work, although the return journey wouldn’t be much fun in the dark.
‘We’ll have to provide transport,’ Corin said. He’d been quiet through much of the discussion so far. ‘Train and taxi fares could be covered by the charity. Hannah will be glad of the work. She’s the village taxi driver,’ he explained to Mim. ‘This is a fantastic stretch of coast. We could offer dozens of ideas of things to do.’
‘Don’t force them on one of your fossil walks.’ Lia flopped against Mim and pretended to snore. She sat up and laughed. ‘We’re supposed to be brightening their lives, not boring them to death.’
‘What’s a fossil walk?’ Mim asked.
‘Oh darling, you will totally regret asking that,’ Lia said. Corin ignored her.
‘I run fossil hunting walks along the beach,’ he said. ‘This stretch of coast is famous for its fossils. Why don’t you come along to one? Judge for yourself whether it would interest visitors.’
‘Okay,’ Mim said. Lia groaned at her side. ‘I haven’t a clue what it is but I’ll give it a go. Let me know when your next walk is.’
There wasn’t time to discuss much else. Ros and Jonty needed to go home to relieve the babysitter, and Bill was snoozing in his chair. Mim pulled on her coat while Corin said goodbye to Ros and
Jonty at the front door.
‘Sure you don’t want another beer?’ he asked, as the car taillights faded in the distance.
‘Better not.’ Mim tried and failed to stifle a yawn. ‘This dog’s ready for her basket.’
Corin’s laughter followed her down the lane.
Karen was thrilled when Mim asked whether Susie would be interested in helping to design the interior of the caravans.
‘She’d love to,’ she said, before Mim had even finished explaining the idea. ‘In fact, she won’t be satisfied with giving you some ideas. She’ll want to make everything herself.’
‘Is she well enough?’ Mim asked. It was a brilliant idea, as far as she was concerned, but she didn’t want to force a woman recovering from cancer to slave away over a sewing machine.
‘She’s feeling great. Bored, if anything. She’s hated the lack of energy and having to rest so much. This is exactly what she needs.’
‘We can pay her,’ Mim said. ‘For her time as well as all the materials.’
Bea had insisted that there was a decent budget for renovating the caravans, but when Mim had asked where the money had come from, and how the charity was being funded, she’d declined to give an answer. Lia, usually so talkative, had been equally tight-lipped, telling Mim they had enough to start the work until they could properly fundraise for the charity.
‘The money’s not important,’ Karen said now. ‘Although we won’t say no. She’s looking for a change of lifestyle. A job she loves, not loathes. She’s wondered about doing something creative like this. It will give her a chance to have a go and see if it would suit her. Besides,’ she added, handing Mim a fresh cup of tea, ‘this is a good thing you’re doing. We’d all like to help.’
‘Really?’ Mim didn’t know who ‘all’ was, but it sounded expensive. ‘I’ll have to ask. I’m not sure how much money there is.’
‘We don’t want money,’ Heather said. ‘And I doubt that we’re skilled enough to deserve any, unlike Susie. But if enthusiasm can make up for talent, we can find you some helpers. The more we have, the faster the work will be done, won’t it? I haven’t seen the caravans, but Bobby’s told me about them. We can give you a hand with the manual labour: stripping out the contents, painting, weeding. We’ll give anything a go. A lot of people in this village have benefitted from a helping hand at the right moment. We’d love the chance to pay it forward.’