“One box of twenty-four left.”
“Perfect. Do me an invoice, yes?”
Jen nearly flew to her laptop. An invoice! Her very first. “And don’t forget to put that first batch on there too.” Alice added, almost making Jen swoon. “Foot traffic is picking up. People are having a nosy at yours and popping in at ours on the way. Got any more ideas?”
She did, as it happened. “You can do engagement packs with Hopposites Attract or wishing them Health, Wealth and Hoppiness. Or Hoppy New Home for the new homers. Who wouldn’t like a bunch of flowers and a couple to beers for the first night?” Really, the beer didn’t need to change, just the labels.
“On it,” Alice beamed and Jen could already see her thinking about the flowers she’d use. “Brew more and we’ll do it.”
“You know Alice, we could flyer local companies, suggesting them as employee gifts?” Jen grabbed the phone and added it to her list. “How’s things?” she asked, trying to appear nonchalant. “Up to much?”
“Hmm, not really. Swing dance, cinema, book club.”
There’d been a new rom-com released recently, Jen had seen the posters. “Watch the film by yourself?”
Alice stooped to take a very close look at the dial on the nearest tank. “Not really.” They both knew Max would rather poke her own eyes out than go to the cinema. So many people in a dark confined space was beyond her.
Jen decided to go with a silent stare, as if expecting Alice to expand her answer. Alice caved pretty quickly. “You know who I went with, Jen. She’s asked me not to tell you what she’s doing. I’m only allowed to say she’s fine. Which she is. I’d say if she wasn’t.”
“How long do you think she’s going keep this huff up, Al?” Jen grumped. Alice had witnessed hundreds of Lydia’s strops. She’d listened to many of Jen’s rants about Lydia being a teenage ingrate.
Alice drew a breath. “I dunno Jen, depends how long it’ll take you to apologise.”
Jen experienced a weird series of pops in her ears as she made sense of what Alice had said.
“Me? She’s the one to apologise. She said some awful things to me,” she spluttered.
“Only in response to your actions, Jen.” Alice leaned against the tank, arms crossed. “Jen, you do see that what you did with the tracking patches was a horrible thing to do, right?”
“I wasn’t ‘tracking her’,” Jen did the air-quote thing to mock Lydia’s dramatics, but suspected she looked ridiculous, “it was the legs, they’re expens–”
“Jen. It was a horrible thing to do.” Alice was brooking no argument here. “It was a total invasion of privacy, which you knew, because a) you are smart and b) you would have told her what you were doing otherwise.”
Jen sensed her head heating up. She wanted to defend herself, yet her lips felt knotted. But that was OK as Alice wasn’t done yet.
“You might have convinced yourself that you’re only protecting her, but you have to recognise now Jen, that instead you’re trying to control her. What you consistently refuse to see is that Lydia is quite capable of controlling her own life.”
Jen’s lips released themselves, but only to flap up and down in shock at her best friend’s opinion and that she was giving her a sound telling off.
Alice clearly felt she had said her piece and with a nod to indicate it was over, dropped her feisty stance and moved away from the tank towards the shell-shocked Jen.
“More to the point,” Alice asked briskly, perching on a stool Jen had fashioned from some thoroughly hosed tyres left in the back yard, “how are you?”
Jen took a long moment to find her equilibrium. She was slightly bewildered by what had just occurred. She felt like a scolded pet. Her head was retaining its pounding heat, but resolutely she packed the moment away to dissect later in private. She pulled herself together to her automatic response. “Fine.”
“Bullpoo,” coughed Alice.
Regaining some composure, Jen arched a brow at her. “Look around you. It’s happening. The beer is flowing. You just ordered some stock and I could fulfil it instantly.” Jen was aware she was sounding a little snappy, still feeling defensive, but Alice ignored it.
“I’m not talking about the beer, Jen,” she said gently, “I don’t think anyone has ever doubted you could do the brewing.” Alice was clearly getting at something. “What about you?”
“Couldn’t be better,” Jen stubbornly insisted. She plastered a smile on her face and tried to widen her eyes as much as possible. “I’m not surrounded by inco pads for starters. Or crocheted tampons, thank god. Plus there’s no Ava and Zara in my life.”
Alice wasn’t buying the perkiness. “Still not what I meant, but now you’ve brought them up, heard from Robert?”
“Hm? No. I wouldn’t expect to, what with the crushing his dreams thing.” The guilty feeling started to creep up through her chest, but she batted it away. In the long run, she’d done them both a favour.
“Which leaves …” Alice prompted.
“I’m fine, Alice. Honestly.”
For the second time Alice’s usually chirpy little face took on a very stern guise. The reintroduction of the crossed arms backed this up. “You’ve had an enormous row with your only sister, which you’re unwilling to reconcile, and the super-hot guy, who got your knickers in a complete twist, has walked out of your life and you really feel you are OK with that? I’m insulted, Jen. Either you think I’m incredibly stupid, or you simply don’t mind lying to me. Which is it?”
Jen was about to start angrily defending herself, again, but looking at Alice, she deflated. She loved Alice, they’d been friends for years, and, apart from today it seemed, she knew where she stood with her. Alice might be pocket-sized, but she was a giant of integrity and honesty. That wasn’t a friendship you took for granted. And besides, she couldn’t afford to lose more friends currently, she was down to so few. Any more and she’d have only her hops to talk to.
“No, I’m not completely fine,” she admitted sulkily. “On the personal front things are a bit crappy right now, but it’ll sort itself, Alice. Lyds and I will work this out when she’s calmed the hell down, and the Jakob thing, well it just wasn’t meant to be, was it? He came into my life, and let’s be honest, he helped me dodge a bullet, but clearly it wasn’t supposed to be a long term thing. Not all encounters are supposed to be forever, Alice. Sometimes, they have a single purpose to serve and then life moves on. I know your films lead to Happily Ever After, but I’ve said before, real life doesn’t always work like that.”
“You honestly believe you should just let Jakob go? Are you aware what you were like with him in your life?”
Jen just scowled.
“You were happy, Jen, relaxed, and you weren’t living your life by app. And your plans came to life.”
“And they are still living,” she said, wafting her hands around to indicate the entire space. “I am doing it. I’m living my dream.” And clearly she was relaxed too. She came to work in gnarly t-shirts and worn jeans. What was more relaxed than that?
“Really? I know you have a passion to brew Jen, but for a while there you got to share that passion with someone, and it was the dream squared.” She held up a hand before Jen could interrupt. “Don’t bother. You can’t budge me on this. It isn’t only the films informing me, it’s personal knowledge. I love my flowers. I love seeing people’s faces when I deliver my bouquets. But it’s even more wonderful to talk to Max about it, to share the joys of wedding bouquets, and also to weep with her over the funeral flowers. Connecting with another human over something you do is a gift, and you just passed it up.”
Jen really didn’t want to hear this. She’d made a decision and she was getting on with it. So what if she didn’t have anyone to share it with? She didn’t need that. She was delirious about getting to do her thing. Enough for two. Plus Lydia would be back eventually and she got it.
“Alice, I know you want to see me happy. Truly I do. But I’ve got this. The Jakob thing
is for the better. He just wasn’t who I thought he was, he wasn’t honest with me or even himself and I can’t get past that. But I can get past him, which is good, because if I’m going to make this happen I don’t need any distractions.” Secretly, she had to admit he still had her plenty distracted, but it would fade and pass with time. She was sure of it. “Right now, I need all my focus and time for this. Later, when I’ve got an established and successful business then I’ll have time to see who’s about.”
Alice stood up, clearly cross. “Jen, God knows I love you, but you’re a total wally sometimes. Pig-headed and stubborn. You don’t get to pick when love comes your way. And that’s a real-life thing, not a rom-com thing. Seeing ‘who’s about’ is not good enough. You could have gone down that path with Robert, you … you utter numpty.” Alice looked like she was about to blow a gasket.
Jen’s phone rang and she slid it into view again. Anthony St James. She held up her fingers to say two seconds. She didn’t want Alice leaving cross, but she needed to take the call from her only other customer. “Stay Alice, it’s Anthony. I’ll ask him if he has a regular flower order and if you can pitch for it.”
Only, Anthony got to his point with minimal small talk and Jen’s face paled with each word. She looked at the three tanks in front of her, and the boxes already sitting on the shelves. There wasn’t much effusiveness in her goodbye.
“You forgot the flowers thing,” said Alice. “What’s up?” There hadn’t been much to go on with Jen’s yeses, nos and I understands. But her face umbrellaed it all under ‘Bad news’.
“Um, so, that was my big order. He’s got finance issues and needs to cancel. Unless there’s a pretty fast boom in engagements, people moving homes and having babies, I’m slightly screwed, Alice.”
Chapter 34
Clouds were amazing things, Jen decided, staring at them from the concrete of the back yard. She’d been lying there in a near-catatonic state for the past hour, maybe three, she didn’t know. Alice had offered to stay after Anthony’s call, but Jen had asked for some alone time to process things. She preferred to do her internal screaming in private. The back yard was perfect for this. Though messy, it was enclosed and warm and quite comforting.
She had rather a lot of beer with no home. There were only so many bottles she could foist onto Alice or Fenella for the Ploughman’s gift sets. She couldn’t think of more cheese and beer opportunities.
“Come on Jen, think of something. You’re an ideas person. What the hell are you going to do with a shit-load of beer?” She was back to talking to herself. That probably wasn’t good, but she didn’t care. She was claiming it as part of her “process”. And who else did she have? She was no longer talking to the obvious choice. Bugger. Thankfully her phone was safely out of reach inside, so she couldn’t give in to the temptation. It was currently so strong it might have felled her, making it advantageous she was already lying down.
There were other restaurants in town. Only they didn’t have quite the same cachet as Anthony’s celebrity-chef signature eateries. The Anthony deal had ticked all the boxes for her brand profile and thinking about the long-game. Except for the financial difficulties bit. He might have thought about that when he commissioned her.
She wanted to kick her heels and wail a dramatic All is lost, but her tenacious streak kicked in. “Get a grip, Attison,” she growled. “Think beyond.” That’s what her favourite lecturer had always said, trying to get them to think laterally to find new strategies.
“You all right, Jen?” Max stood in the doorway, looking fairly worried, even from Jen’s upside down view.
“Mmmhhhmmm,” Jen said, “just brainstorming.” Granted, her position in the messy yard might look odd. “The clouds are helping. It’s a Zen thing.”
“OK,” Max nodded and turned to go, having assured herself Jen hadn’t done anything drastic and being able to report favourably back to Alice.
“You could, umm, stay if you like, Max. Be my sounding board.” Jen wasn’t used to asking, but the clouds weren’t giving her anything to work with. Max shrugged and sat down on an old engine. Then she waited patiently for Jen to begin, which felt far more awkward to Jen than talking to herself.
“So, um, I have lots of beer.”
Max nodded. “Right.”
“And I’ve got nowhere to sell it, not in large quantities that is, and I rather need some large quantities to go, in order to get the monies.”
“Right.” Max was definitely taking the “board” part literally. She did manage to blink, which Jen took to be encouragement.
“OK. I think, for now, the restaurant route is out.”
Max nodded, now dispensing with words altogether in her listening role, but that was fine as Jen was warming up to it now.
“I could do more of the markets, but they’re sporadic and really labour intensive in terms of travel and set up and they take me out of the brewery for a whole day. If I pay someone else to man the stall, that’s a chunk of my profit gone. So, I need to look at either something I can just deliver to, or something from the door.” Yep, that made sense. Really, the best scenario was selling casks of the beer, as there she wouldn’t have bottle costs or need the bottling time. But to date she’d only ever sold bottles. “I could try to sell to some free-house pubs, but I’ve got no track record on the delivery, and it’ll mean quite a lot of door-knocking.” Well, she could do that. She wasn’t afraid of cold calling, or hard graft, but currently she wanted to be here, nurturing the beer. “Jakob said I should enter the national competitions, to build the beer profile, which would help with the door knocking and maybe bring people to me.” She could research that. “I’m not aware of any imminent ones though.” Max emitted a low grunt at that. Yes, Jen thought it was disappointing too, but then again her main focus right now had to be on immediate marketing – plain dirty selling, not brand building. This beer needed a home so it was off her shelves, bringing money in and being tasted.
Tasting. Hmm. Part of Jen’s issue was people at large didn’t know her beer, not unless they were county show-goers.
“What if people could taste the beers here?” she mused, the idea germinating in her head. “What if I had a tap area inside, where people could come and taste and then buy. Not a pub, but a bottle shop with taps; a brewery shop, like a farm shop.” Suddenly she could see it, with people milling about, glasses in hand, trying her different beers and perusing the shelves, then buying a few, or filling a reusable growler direct from the tap, taking them home and loving them and vowing off macro beers and coming to her Tap & Bottle shop for ever and ever, amen. “I’ll have to check the building permit, but I think I can do that. As a shop or tap room. Not a pub. But I can have tables and chairs for people to sit in as they taste, and I could even have some out here, if I got this pit cleared up.” This. This had her excited. A tasting facility in her microbrewery. And she could offer shelf space to other non-local microbreweries. And oh! She could have an open-mic slot, for locals like Jim, where each month an amateur brewer could have a tap and people could try theirs too. Now the ideas were coming. Her fingers were twitching for some paper to start the scribbling. “Max? What do you think? Max??” Jen flipped over onto her front to see if her brain-boxiest friend thought it was a goer.
Max was sparked-out against the wall, the warmth of the sun having lulled her off. Well, that was fine, Jen thought, rolling back unabashed, because she already knew this would work; it was right on her doorstep and she already had the stock coming. She didn’t need Anthony’s restaurant, she could cut out the middleman. Looking up, she smiled; the cloud overhead, was, if you squinted a bit, trophy shaped.
Jen on a mission was like a tornado in reverse. Nothing could stand in her way as she pulled it all together. It had taken some explaining to the council that this wasn’t a pub. The concept of a brewery shop, with a tasting bar in the same space as the brewing tanks was a new one to them. In the end it was her offer of giving educational tours to school kids th
at swung it.
The fermenting and tapping was going at full tilt. The rows of bottles and stock boxes growing on the shelves were both pleasing and scary; she needed stock, but she’d need it to shift too. Moreover, it was keeping her busy, which was great, because she so needed to be busy. It kept her mind off the things that threatened to break her.
Lydia still hadn’t come home. It was well over four weeks now, and still not a word, other than Alice’s updates and small signs that she’d been in to collect things while Jen was out. The most Lydia had ever been away was a two week Italian exchange with school, and it had driven Jen nuts. Now though, Jen couldn’t quite work out which was worse, having her far away with some contact, or near without any. It made her anxious, and actually teary at times.
Alice’s rebuke was rattling around in her head too. Jen still thought the reaction to the GPS stickers was grossly out of proportion, but maybe, perhaps, possibly Alice was slightly right about Lydia being in control of her life. Jen had to admit her sister had managed for four weeks without her assistance now, so there might be some element of truth in there.
That said, Jen was pretty damn sure Lydia had some apologising to do too, and as such hadn’t yet taken any definitive action to negotiate a peace deal. She had her pride and knew from experience that giving in to Lydia’s sulks would come back to bite her. So for now, she was getting on with things, trying to ignore the growing ache inside her as each day passed without contact. She threw herself at everything, to the point where she could come home at night and fall into bed too tired to think about the house without Lydia in it. Never before had she wanted to avoid her own home, but now she needed the sheer exhaustion to make it bearable.
A task she’d put off was clearing the rear yard, but her mind had started its painful wanderings again, so she’d bitten the bullet.
Probably the Best Kiss in the World Page 27