by Lisa Hill
‘Sorry, I appreciate you can’t, but this is important, Lou.’
She stopped wiping down the table. ‘Jack Sellwood sees Edward Hardwicke and a man, with a map, standing in a field, and you need to leave me and the girls to run the shop and tearooms on a busy, summer Sunday while you rush off to analyse what this could possibly mean.’ She rolled her eyes and returned to wiping down the checked UPC tablecloth.
She just didn’t get it. He could tell her until he was blue in the face, but she just couldn’t see what was going to happen if they didn’t fight this development every step of the way. A budget shop would open up and they’d have fewer customers, less income and before they knew it, their life in Clunderton would come to an end. They’d have to find premises in a different village, or worse, think about opening up a delicatessen, or something along those lines in Harrogate. It wouldn’t be the idyllic life they’d dreamed about having all these years and finally achieved.
‘I’m doing this for you, Lou, you and the girls.’
‘No, you are not, Johnnie!’ Louise’s voice rose and a family quietly enjoying a round of cheese and ham toasties looked up.
He gave her a remonstrative look. At this rate she’d drive the customers away before the threat of a budget minimart. What had got into her? Early menopause? It was like living with a bear with two heads.
Louise barged past him with her tray of used crockery.
‘Lou!’ he hissed.
She turned and blew her frizzy hair away from her face. ‘What?’
‘You must see how important this is?’
Her shoulders slumped and the tray with it. ‘Johnnie, you keep telling me what I must see but you never ask me what I do see.’
Johnnie frowned. What on earth was that meant to mean? He shook himself from puzzling any further; he had a meeting to get to.
‘Suit yourself,’ he said, returning the insult now by barging past her. ‘But this meeting is important; we need—’
‘You need, Johnnie.’ Louise’s voice was quiet and soft this time as she interrupted. ‘This is what you think is right. You promised me you were going to give all this VOCAB stuff up and concentrate on us.’
He closed his eyes and counted to ten in his head. Shouting at her would get him nowhere, not to mention upset the customers even further.
‘You just don’t get it, do you?’ he said quietly, shaking his head. ‘There will be no future for us, if the development goes ahead.’
‘You don’t know that!’ she cried, her arms visibly shaking as the tea tray rattled. ‘There might not be any provision for shops in what’s been agreed! And a little competition might be healthy for us. New homes mean new customers!’
‘All clustered around the new shops that will be built. Why would they walk down here? This is about more than just the development, Lou, it’s about us.’
She batted her eyelashes furiously. ‘Finally, something we do agree on,’ she said, pushing the door to the kitchen and disappearing inside.
Johnnie turned with his folder of notes tucked under his arm and walked to the front of the shop, carrying an unnerving feeling that they were talking at crossed purposes.
***
‘Alright, Duncan?’ Jack greeted, as he snaked his way through the tables to the bar. ‘Okay if we set up for an ad hoc VOCAB meeting in the corner, over there?’ He pointed through the archway to the snug.
‘It’s a wee bit hot to be indoors on a day like today; sure you won’t set up at the end of the garden?’
‘Ta, but I think we need to be somewhere a little secluded.’ Jack tapped the side of his nose. ‘Sensitive subject.’ He leaned in over the bar. ‘We think Edward Hardwicke’s been granted permission to go ahead with the development. Need to come up with a plan of action.’
‘Surely it’s best to wait until you know for sure?’ Duncan asked, pulling a pint for Gina to take out to a customer dining in the garden.
Jack folded his arms and yawned. ‘This is Edward Hardwicke we’re talking about; crafty so-and-so like him is bound to be one step ahead of the game. We need to carry out some risk assessment.’
‘Said like a true retiree of the business world.’ Duncan laughed and placed the pint glass on Gina’s tray.
Jack laughed too, before yawning again.
‘Pamela keeping you up at night?’ Duncan said, winking.
‘I wish. Sadly, it’s Ant and his perpetual snoring.’
‘Ant? You’ve had the grandkids staying over, have you?’
‘No, it’s me on the sleepovers at Lottie’s.’
Duncan frowned. He was slightly taken aback. ‘Pint of cider?’
‘Yes, please.’ Jack nodded. ‘Long story. Edward says he’s dying; took advantage of Pam’s good nature. He’s back at the Old Rectory and I’m buggered if I’ll sleep under the same roof as him.’
As Jack spoke, Johnnie burst through the door and waved at them.
‘Here’s another one who takes advantage of his wife’s good nature.’
Jack turned. ‘Oh, you think now, do you?’ Jack cast a knowing look down the end of his nose.
Duncan averted his gaze and decided to shut up. Best not give away any feelings he was harbouring for Louise; villages were a breeding pond for idle gossip.
‘Hello,’ Johnnie said, breezing up to the bar. ‘Thought I was going to be late; last minute ding-dong with Louise.’
Jack raised an eyebrow at Duncan who nodded his recognition.
‘Everything alright?’ Jack enquired.
‘Oh, it will be, when she finally sees my point of view over the development.’
‘Is she not allowed to have an opinion of her own?’ Duncan asked, flatly.
‘Oh, it’s not like that.’ Johnnie placed his hands on the bar and leaned his long arms forward. ‘She just can’t see where I’m coming from; this is my livelihood!’
Duncan tried to keep the smile from his face that all was not happy in paradise, down at the stores. He had wondered up until now whether it was just Louise who wasn’t happy in her relationship with Johnnie. Hearing Johnnie complain about Louise was like music to his ears.
‘Your livelihoods.’ Duncan corrected him.
‘Alright, our livelihoods. Any chance of a pint?’ Johnnie snapped.
Duncan nodded, thinking Johnnie was far less courteous when he wasn’t behind that shop counter of his. ‘Lager or cider?’
‘Cider, please, whatever you have on draught.’
‘No problem; you go get set up with Jack and I’ll bring it over. I’ll direct your other attendees through to the snug.’
‘Thanks Duncan,’ said Jack. ‘You’ll join us though, won’t you?’
‘Pah!’ Johnnie scoffed. ‘What for? No-one’s proposing building another pub!’
‘Thanks Jack,’ Duncan looked directly at Jack, whilst pulling Johnnie’s pint. ‘I think I will.’
Chapter Fifty-Two
The Sunday lunchtime rush was over and only a scattering of customers remained, enjoying afternoon cream teas. Louise was just wiping down another table, pretending it was Johnnie’s face as she pummelled the dishcloth over it when Megan appeared.
‘You okay, Mum?’
‘Hmmm?’ She looked up to see her daughter’s face full of concern. ‘Fine, love. Shouldn’t I be?’
Cerys appeared like a magician’s bunny, from behind Megan. ‘Because you and Dad keep arguing.’
‘Oh.’ Louise wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. She’d wondered how long it would be before the girls said something. They were becoming young women now with opinions of their own.
‘Why don’t you sit down?’ Megan said, sounding more like the mother in this scenario. She took the cloth and tray to the side counter by the window, where they stacked trays ready to go in the dishwasher when it was busy.
‘I’ll get us some drinks,’ Cerys, said, walking over to the chiller cabinet and picking out three elderflower presses.
‘Thanks,’ Louise said, taking one and u
nscrewing the lid. ‘I take it I’m in for the long haul then?’
‘Don’t be like that,’ Megan said, sitting down and leaning on her forearms, clasping her hands together.
Louise could tell Megan was finding this awkward, and yet she had a determined look in her eye, similar to the one she used to have learning to tie her shoelaces when she was five.
‘Don’t stay together for our sakes.’
Louise looked between her daughters, so similar in looks to herself, with the exception of having Johnnie’s conker brown hair, still frizzy, but not Louise’s Icelandic blonde. Megan was looking full of concern; Cerys’ had her eyebrows raised as if to dare Louise to try and fob them off. She pulled her ponytail tight until it hurt her scalp. As if she might be able to pull some wisdom out of her brain, to actually fob them off with.
It wasn’t working.
‘What makes you think there’s a problem?’
They both bore an expression of incredulity.
‘The constant bickering on holiday,’ Megan counted on her fingers. ‘Dad’s propensity to drop everything and rush off to a VOCAB meeting. The fact you keep saying you want to develop your cake making skills into your own business, but there’s no time because Dad won’t hire enough staff to run this place.’
Tears welled in Louise’s eyes. She had raised these young women to be so perceptive. One day they would make excellent mothers.
‘You came home so happy last night, Mum,’ said Cerys. ‘Full of ideas on what you were going to sketch out for Rebecca and James’ wedding cake, but have you got as far as putting pencil to paper today?’
Louise twisted her bottle around and around.
‘No,’ Cerys continued, ‘because it’s been another hard day serving customers in here.’
‘Things aren’t going to change unless you make the changes, Mum,’ Megan said softly, reaching out for Louise’s hand.
Louise stopped twisting the bottle. She blinked, and tears flooded her cheeks. ‘What are you saying then? Make some changes by leaving your dad? What about this place?’
‘Those are obstacles, Mum,’ Cerys said, sounding less accusatory than before. ‘Your happiness should be the most important thing.’
Louise grappled in her jeans pocket for a tissue and blew her nose. She risked a glance at her daughters, only to find them looking as concerned as they did before. She suddenly felt very vulnerable. She should be the older, wiser one. On top of Rebecca giving her a lecture about Duncan last night, she felt like a right delinquent.
‘You were really happy last night,’ Megan continued. ‘Cerys is right; either you’re turning into an alcoholic or you’ve actually remembered what it’s like to have a social life.’
‘Or she’s having an affair with Duncan!’ Cerys said, before bursting into laughter.
Megan laughed, and Louise laughed too, slightly over hysterically as the Cerys’ words struck a little too close to home. Her girls wouldn’t have the same concern she felt, if they thought she was leaving their dad for another man.
Not that she was leaving anyone. Yet.
And she was not having an affair.
She closed her eyes. Rebecca was right. She was having a bloody emotional affair with Duncan; he was the one she wanted to tell all her problems to and her innermost thoughts. Well, not quite all her innermost thoughts. That sort of thing would send them crashing into his bedroom which she was pretty sure would be exciting, pleasurable and totally wrong.
She sighed. What a mess.
‘Anyway,’ said Megan, ‘we’ve had a chat and we want to help.’
Louise frowned. ‘How?’
‘You’ve got some big decisions to make. You—’
‘I can’t leave your dad. What about this place? What about you two?’
‘There you go with the obstacles again, Mum!’ Cerys shouted. ‘Half of this is your place; you might sell it and buy your own premises!’
‘Woah,’ Louise put her hands up. ‘It sounds like if your father hasn’t got plans for me, then you two have! I don’t know what I want!’ Louise’s voice was rising out of sheer frustration and exasperation. ‘One day I can’t stand the sight of him and the next day I feel guilty for feeling that way! I’m a perimenopausal woman, past her prime, watching her daughters about to spring off into the world, getting educated, going to have a career and I feel redundant and left behind. Oh heck,’ Louise sobbed, ‘I’m having a classic mid-life crisis.’ She buried her head in her arms over the table and sobbed. Sobbed and sobbed. Duncan was a symptom of the real problem; Rebecca was right. To choose him would be to totally fuck things up. How had she got herself into this mess?
‘Ssssh Mum,’ Megan soothed, as she rubbed Louise’s back. ‘It’s not all that bad, I promise.’
‘Megan’s right,’ Cerys added, ‘you’ve lost your way, but you can find it again. We don’t need you anymore—’
‘Well, apart from financially,’ Megan added.
Both girls giggled and from the security of her arms, even Louise smiled.
‘Yes, apart from financially, we’re almost there, so it’s time for you to find a new purpose, something for you.’
‘Which is why we’re going to take over the tearooms for the summer holidays!’
Louise sat bolt upright, rubbing her eyes. ‘What?’
‘We’re taking over your job.’ The girls chorused.
‘But what am I going to do?’ Louise asked, feeling even more redundant than she did before.
‘Find out what you’re good at,’ said Megan.
‘And what you really want,’ said Cerys.
Louise swallowed hard, feeling guilty that Duncan was the first thing to spring to mind.
‘Thank you.’ she whispered, still feeling slightly numb at this complete reversal of mother-daughter relationship.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Pamela was sipping on mug of hot tea on Lottie’s swing chair in the bright July sun, but she still couldn’t warm up. It had to be shock. She’d really thought she could apologise to Jack, tell him she loved him, and it would all be fine.
‘Are you two joining us for dinner this evening?’ Lottie asked, stepping out of the back door of Church Cottage with a glass of lemonade in her hand.
‘Will your father be eating with you?’
Lottie raised her eyebrows but said nothing, sitting down next to her.
‘Best not then; don’t want to upset the applecart any further.’
‘Ugh,’ Lottie sighed.
‘It’s no good,’ Jean’s voice floated – well, being Jean’s voice, it was more like a foghorn – across the garden as she marched around the corner, Mike waddling behind. ‘He wouldn’t listen. I tried my hardest, but I couldn’t even get my foot over the threshold.’
‘Oh, that is a shame,’ Audrey said, following her.
‘What’s going on?’ Pamela asked, surprised by Jean and Mike’s sudden appearance.
‘Audrey and I had this big plan,’ Lottie said, sounding deflated. ‘Operation-get-Jean-to-kick-Edward-out-of-the-Old-Rectory.’
‘What?!’ Pamela shrieked, before laughing for what seemed like the first time in a week. ‘You got Jean to go around there for me?’ She suddenly felt touched that all these people actually cared about her.
‘Yes,’ Audrey said, ‘we brought it forward after last nights, er…palaver.’
Pamela blushed at how she had come running to Audrey’s door like a teenager that had just been dumped and needed consoling in her mother’s bosom.
Jean nestled herself into one of the rattan garden chairs. ‘So, what are you going to do now, Pam?’ She fixed Pamela with a stare.
Pamela swallowed hard.
Mike laughed as he sat down. ‘You didn’t expect anything but tough lover from ‘er,’ he said in his guttural, Yorkshire accent, pointing at Jean.
‘Suppose not.’ Pamela felt that cold feeling creeping across her again. There had been a moment then when she had felt the warmth and love of her family around he
r. Now thoughts came crashing in around her again that she had lost Jack, Edward was living in her home and she was camping out in her mother’s spare bedroom.
‘Well?’ Jean asked.
Pamela closed her eyes. ‘I don’t know. I wish I knew, but I’ve hurt Jack’s feelings so badly—’
‘Oh, he’ll get over himself,’ Lottie interrupted. ‘He’s had his pride hurt, that’s all. You both should have known Edward wouldn’t give up without a fight.’
‘He’s dying!’ Why didn’t anyone listen?
‘So he says,’ Lottie, Audrey, Mike and Jean all chorused, before dissolving into laughter.
Pamela gazed at them all, opened mouthed. ‘You really don’t believe he’s dying, do you? How could anyone lie about such a thing as cancer?’
She looked around to see them all trying to compose themselves. ‘Pam,’ Jean said, ‘this is Edward Hardwicke we’re talking about; he convinced you to elope with him!’
‘I was much younger then.’
‘And still as naïve, now,’ said Audrey.
‘Mum!’
‘Well, it’s true. I didn’t believe it before, but it’s all very convenient, don’t you think?’
‘I don’t know what to think,’ Pamela said, gazing across the fields towards York.
‘Tell you what I think,’ Lottie said, standing up, ‘is that it’s perfect weather for a barbecue. I’ll just go and see if we’ve got any briquettes and I’ll pop down to the stores for some sausages and burgers. Will you stay?’ She directed at Jean and Mike.
‘Oh, sounds lovely, thank you,’ Mike said.
Pamela smiled. All her family together for a barbecue, everything she could have possibly dreamed of and merely a longed-for fantasy this time last year.
Only she wasn’t with Jack now so that would be awkward.
‘Dad’s gone to his friend Brian’s for lunch, in Knaresborough. He won’t be back until later tonight,’ Lottie said, evidently reading the expression on her face.
‘I’ll make us all some lemonade,’ Audrey said, turning back towards Church End.
‘I’ll help you,’ Mike said, quickly getting up and scurrying after her.