New Beginnings at the Star and Sixpence

by Holly Hepburn

  Sam hated the involuntary lurch her stomach gave when Gabe walked into the Star and Sixpence on Tuesday afternoon. She dropped her gaze, glowering instead at the pint of Thirsty Bishop she was pulling for Henry Fitzsimmons.

  ‘Steady on, Sam,’ Henry said, his short white moustache quivering in alarm as creamy foam slopped over the side of the glass. ‘It’ll be all hops and no head if you keep on like that.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Sam mumbled, taking more care with her next pull of the pump.

  When she looked up again, there was no sign of Gabe. She presumed he’d strolled right past, without bothering to say hello, and that caused another unreasonable flash of irritation. It was fine for her to pretend he didn’t exist but entirely not fine for him to ignore her.

  She took the money Henry was offering her and slammed it into the till drawer. ‘Your change,’ she said, placing the coins into his outstretched hand. ‘Thanks, Henry.’

  He cleared his throat. ‘I get the feeling all is not well, Samantha. Has your new chef gone off the boil already?’

  Sam summoned up a brisk smile; she wasn’t about to tell Henry anything, not when he would report straight back to Franny. ‘Not at all. I can assure you Gabe is still sizzling hot.’

  Henry grunted. ‘So I keep hearing. Martha told me today that she’s thinking of learning Spanish, and Franny has ordered his recipe book. You and Nessie seem to be the only women in the village immune to his charms.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ Sam said, hoping the truth wasn’t written all over her face. ‘Now, I hope we can count on your support at the karaoke evening next week? I’m looking forward to hearing your Elvis again.’

  His faded blue eyes narrowed slightly and she knew he was torn between wanting to boast and maintaining his dignity. ‘Of course I will be there,’ he said stiffly. ‘You know how Franny and I like to support your endeavours. But I doubt I’ll be taking a turn with the microphone. Not after last time.’

  Sam kept her face perfectly straight. The look on Franny’s face when he’d begun to thrust his pelvis in time to ‘Jailhouse Rock’ had been priceless, so Sam wasn’t entirely surprised he’d been rapped over the knuckles. Even so, she was quietly confident that, when the time came, he wouldn’t be able to resist the siren call of performing again.

  ‘That’s a shame,’ she said. ‘I know a lot of women find a man who can sing quite sexy – myself included. But perhaps tone down those moves of yours – we don’t want Franny getting jealous of all those fluttering hearts, do we?’

  Henry turned so red that she half worried his own heart was doing more than fluttering. But he shook his head and some of his embarrassment receded. ‘I’ll certainly consider it,’ he said, just as Gabe appeared at Sam’s elbow. ‘Someone’s got to to give these young whippersnappers a run for their money, what?’

  Sam turned, wondering how much of the conversation Gabe had heard and decided it was most of it, judging from the amused expression he wore. ‘It would be a very cold day before you’d catch me singing Elvis Presley,’ he told Henry solemnly. ‘Your crown, and your lovely wife, are both safe from my clutches.’

  Henry huffed into his pint. ‘She’s not my wife, actually. We’re just stepping out together, that’s all. Early days and all that.’

  Sam stared at him. ‘Hardly that, Henry. It’s been more than a year since you and Franny got together.’

  His bushy eyebrows shot up. ‘Has it? Good lord, I think you’re right.’

  ‘It was Valentine’s Day last year,’ Sam reminded him. ‘Surely you can’t have forgotten?’

  He gave her a guilty look. ‘The months tend to blur as you get older. I took her out for dinner, though. On Valentine’s Day. And I bought her some flowers.’

  Sam smiled. ‘I’m sure you did enough, Henry. Franny isn’t one to hide her displeasure, is she?’

  ‘No, she’s not,’ he replied, with a shudder of obvious recollection. ‘Well, well. Almost eighteen months. How time flies.’

  ‘I’ll remind you next February,’ Sam said in sympathy. ‘So you can make more of a fuss.’

  Henry looked grateful. ‘Thank you. Appreciate that.’

  Almost reluctantly, Sam turned her attention to Gabe. There was a heavier than normal layer of stubble covering the lower half of his face; it suited him. Determined not to get distracted, she summoned a purposeful smile. ‘Welcome back. Is there something I can do for you?’

  Gabe nodded. ‘As a matter of fact, there is. As you know, I’m trying to use local fresh produce in the kitchens here and autumn is the perfect time of year to go foraging. In particular, I’d like to find some wild mushrooms and I wondered whether you might know if there are any growing nearby.’

  Sam blinked, moderately insulted. Really, did she look like the kind of woman who went digging about in the dirt for mushrooms? ‘I don’t think I do.’

  ‘Archer’s Wood,’ Henry chipped in briskly. ‘Take the bridge over the river and follow the path until it forks. You’ll find plenty of fungi growing there – tasty with a good fry-up.’

  ‘There you go,’ Sam said. ‘Mushroom city.’

  ‘That is good news,’ Gabe said thoughtfully. ‘Although I am not much of a woodsman and I don’t know the area at all. Perhaps you could come too, Sam?’

  She wanted to laugh. Seriously, hadn’t he even noticed her carefully maintained highlights and perfect manicure? But from the corner of one eye, she could see Henry watching with interest, and his observation about trouble with Gabe floated back into her mind.

  ‘Of course,’ she said easily, hoping neither of them noticed her crossed fingers. ‘I’d be more than happy to help. Maybe at the weekend?’

  ‘Perfect,’ Gabe said, smiling.

  ‘Perfect,’ Henry echoed, looking back and forth between them.

  ‘Perfect,’ Sam muttered under her breath, picturing a soggy stomp through the dripping trees that surrounded Little Monkham. ‘Just bloody marvellous.’

  *

  ‘And finally, this one leads to the cellar.’ Nessie pointed to the thick wooden door at the top of the cellar stairs. ‘That’s Connor’s kingdom, although he occasionally lets one of us mere mortals venture down there, if we promise not to touch his beer barrels.’

  Laurie nodded. ‘The cellar is out of bounds. Got it.’

  Nessie smiled. ‘So that’s the guided tour over and done with. Any questions?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Laurie said, glancing around the bar. ‘Or maybe just one. Who is that woman with the red hair? She hasn’t taken her eyes off me from the moment we came in here.’

  Nessie followed his line of sight, although she knew exactly who he meant. ‘That’s Ruby. She was Dad’s girlfriend after… after your mum, I suppose.’ She sighed and squared her shoulders. ‘Come on, I’ll introduce you.’

  Ruby’s welcoming smile didn’t reveal any of the reservations Nessie knew she had about Laurie.

  ‘How wonderful to meet you,’ she said, taking his outstretched hand. ‘Nessie and Sam have told me so much about you.’

  Laurie managed an awkward smile. ‘Nice to meet you too.’

  A busy silence stretched, during which Nessie could see Ruby sizing Laurie up. Was she searching for evidence of Andrew amongst his features and mannerisms? Of course she was. And Laurie must know that too.

  ‘We’d better get back to work,’ Nessie said, with an apologetic glance at Ruby.

  ‘Goodness, don’t let me keep you,’ Ruby said, raising her eyebrows. ‘From the sounds of things, there’ll be plenty of time for Laurie and I to get to know each other.’

  Laurie waited until they were safely behind the bar to lean towards Nessie. ‘Was she really Dad’s girlfriend?’

  ‘I know. You’d never put them together, would you?’

  ‘No,’ he said, firing a swift glance in Ruby’s direction. ‘No, I wouldn’t.’

  Nessie gave him a sympathetic look. ‘She means well. And she was devoted to Dad, so I suppose it’s only natural that
she’s curious about you.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Laurie conceded, although he looked far from convinced.

  ‘Now,’ Nessie said, ‘let’s see if you can put those pint-pulling lessons to good use. Father Goodluck is in need of another pint over there.’

  Laurie wasn’t what Nessie would call a natural barman. He frothed up Father Goodluck’s pint to such an extent that it had to be abandoned. He gave three customers the wrong change, making Nessie relieved that most of their payments came via cards – the last thing they needed was for the till to be down at the end of the night. And he accidentally insulted Franny by serving another customer before her; the glower she fired across the bar could have outburned the sun.

  Once or twice, Nessie sent him out to collect glasses and run the gauntlet of the curious villagers, although she hadn’t revealed his relationship to her and Sam. Ruby seemed especially keen to talk, but Laurie was careful to avoid her. Eventually, as closing time drew near, she gave up all pretence of nursing her tonic water and watched his every move. She showed no sign of leaving and Nessie couldn’t say she was surprised; when Ruby wanted something she usually got it. And in this case, she wanted answers from Laurie.

  ‘How was your first evening?’ she asked, once the pub was empty of customers. ‘Do you foresee a new career as a barman?’

  Laurie gave another awkward smile as he leaned against the bar. ‘I can’t say it was top of my childhood list.’ He looked around, as though taking everything in. ‘But this place has a nice vibe. I can see myself getting used to being here.’

  Ruby returned the smile, but Nessie could see it didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘I’m sure your father would be glad. He loved the Star and Sixpence.’

  He grinned. ‘I bet. What’s not to love about living in a pub?’

  ‘It has its ups and downs,’ Nessie said, thinking of all the times she’d longed for a nine-to-five job instead of the long days it took to make the Star and Sixpence run as though it were no effort at all.

  ‘I can imagine,’ Laurie said. ‘You and Sam are doing fantastically. Much better than I expect Dad did.’

  The temperature dropped several degrees. Nessie could have groaned out loud.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Ruby’s voice was perfectly even and measured.

  Laurie shrugged. ‘It’s no secret the old man liked a drink – Mum told me he could barely stand up most nights. I can’t imagine he was good at handling the business – he probably drank the profits.’

  Ruby’s expression might be frozen but her eyes were blazing. She opened her mouth to speak, but Nessie got there first.

  ‘It’s been a long day,’ she said hurriedly, hoping to defuse things before Laurie could do any more damage. ‘And you’ve got that drive back to Purdon.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re right,’ Laurie replied, with a shrug. ‘I suppose I’d better be on my way.’

  But Ruby was not to be deterred. ‘I can assure you, your father was more than capable of managing the Star and Sixpence,’ she said, her tone tight. ‘Yes, he had a drinking problem, and yes, he lost his battle with it more often than he won, but he still fought every day.’

  Laurie sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Ruby, but spare me the lecture about his struggles. You should have been there when my mum fought to put food on the table because he didn’t pay her enough money to feed me properly. He wasn’t exactly father of the fucking year.’

  Ruby sucked in a breath, as though he’d wounded her. ‘I understand you had a fraught relationship, Laurie, but that doesn’t entitle you to be disrespectful.’

  ‘It does, though,’ Laurie fired back, his own eyes suddenly alight with fury. ‘I’ve got every right to disrespect him if I want to, because he never showed any respect for me or my mum.’

  ‘Laurie,’ Nessie said unhappily. ‘I don’t think this is the time or—’

  He pushed away from the bar, a violent movement that set alarm bells jangling in Nessie’s head. But he sucked in a deep breath and made a visible effort to control himself. ‘No, you’re right. I’m sorry. I just don’t like being told what to think about a man who didn’t think about me at all.’ He walked towards the door. ‘Night, Nessie. See you tomorrow.’

  The silence he left behind was punctuated only by Ruby’s fast breathing.

  ‘It isn’t true,’ she said, gripping Nessie’s wrist urgently. ‘I know Andrew sent money – sometimes, I even helped him out – although I didn’t know what it was for until just now.’

  Nessie stared at her. ‘You helped? What do you mean?’

  The older woman shook her head. ‘I mean that sometimes the books simply wouldn’t balance and I had to subsidise them. It was never very much, but it did mean I saw the money coming in and out.’ She fixed Nessie with a frank look. ‘And there was a regular payment going to a woman I didn’t know right up until Andrew died. I think you’ll find that was Laurie’s mother.’

  ‘Oh, Ruby,’ Nessie said, seeing the shimmer of tears behind her eyes. ‘Why didn’t you tell us you’d helped out financially? Sam and I would have paid you back, with interest.’

  ‘It’s not about that,’ Ruby said stubbornly. ‘I don’t want money, which is why I’ve never mentioned it. I just hate to think of you believing everything Laurie says, that’s all.’

  Nessie thought back over Laurie’s comments and sighed. The trouble was that both she and Sam had first-hand experience of their father’s haphazard approach to money. And Laurie’s accusations had a familiar ring of truth about them; Andrew Chapman had never been the most reliable of people, as their own mother had discovered after he vanished. But hadn’t she also told her daughters that he had never written to them? That had turned out to be a lie… Maybe there were other things their mother had lied about, Nessie thought. And maybe Laurie’s mum hadn’t been entirely truthful with her son, either.

  ‘Your father wasn’t a bad man, Nessie,’ Ruby went on, her tone quiet and even. ‘He had his demons, but he tried his best to do what was right by you and Sam. I refuse to believe he didn’t extend the same courtesy to Laurie, no matter how much the boy bad-mouths him.’

  And that was part of the issue, Nessie thought an hour later, as she lay in bed beside Owen, unable to sleep. Because Andrew Chapman clearly hadn’t treated Laurie the same way he’d treated his daughters; he hadn’t named him in his will. Had he done it out of vindictiveness? Or forgetfulness? Or had he been trying to pretend he didn’t have a son at all?

  Whatever the reason, Nessie felt honour-bound to try to make up for it with Laurie. All she had to do now was convince Sam to take the same view. And persuade Ruby that Laurie wasn’t the disrespectful son she’d cast him as. That was probably going to be the hardest challenge of all.

  Chapter Seven

  Sam was tempted to ignore the knock on her bedroom door at seven o’clock on Saturday morning. What she really wanted to do was pull the duvet over her head and pretend she’d never agreed to go mushroom picking in the woods with Gabe. But it was far too late to back out now.

  ‘Be there in a minute,’ she called, trying to mask her reluctance. ‘I’ll have a coffee if you’re making one.’

  Hauling herself out of bed, she crossed to the shutters that covered the latticework leaded windows. She expected to see grey skies and persistent drizzle, but the weather surprised her with a peaches and cream sunrise and the hint of blue skies behind the wispy gold-tinted clouds. Immediately, her mood lifted. It would be damp and muddy in the woods, but at least the sun was doing what it could.

  Gabe was waiting in the kitchen, sipping a steaming mug of coffee. His dark hair was even more untidy than normal and one cheek was sleep-creased and yet he still caused a treacherous stir inside Sam, which resulted in a grumpy frown. He had no right to look so good when he’d clearly just got up, she thought, raising a self-conscious hand to her own frizzy blonde bob. It wasn’t fair.

  ‘No need to ask how you feel about the prospect of an early morning mushroom hunt,’ Gabe observed, eyebrows raised.


  Sam thought about denying it and then allowed herself a sheepish groan. ‘Is it that obvious?’

  ‘No more than usual,’ he replied. ‘I don’t know how you like your coffee so couldn’t make you one.’

  There was no reproach in his voice – if anything, Sam thought she detected resigned amusement. ‘Dark, strong and not too bitter,’ she said, reaching for her favourite coffee pod.

  ‘Noted,’ Gabe said, watching as black liquid poured into the espresso cup. ‘Do you want to eat before we go? I could make you an omelette when we get back, if we find enough treasure.’

  The thought of golden eggs wrapped around hot, buttery mushrooms made Sam’s mouth water, but it would undoubtedly mean spending more time with Gabe. ‘You could,’ she said, cautiously.

  Gabe’s mouth quirked at her obvious reluctance. ‘It’s an offer to cook breakfast, Sam. Not a proposition.’

  ‘I didn’t think it was!’ Sam exclaimed, heat racing across her cheeks.

  ‘We can include Nessie if it will make you more comfortable,’ Gabe went on, flashing her a wide-eyed look.

  He was teasing her, Sam realised with a further rush of mortification. And then she felt a cold plunge of certainty; he knew exactly why she was acting the way she was. He knew.

  ‘Let’s just get going,’ she said, forcing herself to sound as though she had no idea what he was getting at. ‘You can’t make a mushroom omelette without any mushrooms.’

  ‘That is true,’ Gabe said solemnly. ‘But I’m sure we’d manage to cook something up between us.’

  Sam downed her coffee in one mouthful, wincing as the scalding liquid hit her throat. The kitchen felt small, too full of Gabe, and she was suddenly keen to get out to the space of the woods. ‘Let’s go. Before I get hangry.’

  ‘We wouldn’t want that,’ Gabe agreed, finishing his own drink. ‘Lead on, Sam.’

  Dew glistened on Sam’s sturdy walking boots as they cut across the village green. Gabe had looked surprised when he’d seen her feet, as though he didn’t believe she owned such practical footwear, and Sam didn’t feel the need to explain that she’d borrowed them from Nessie. Maybe the best way to handle Gabe Santiago was to convince herself that she didn’t care what he thought of her. If she could manage to do that, everything would get a lot easier.