by T E kessler
THIRTY-NINE
It was a strange day all round, and by the evening, for the first time in Beth’s life, she could say she understood her dad. Harry had left them soon after they found the boxes; he thought they had a lot of talking to do. Plus Lara kept phoning them as if needing reassurance that she’d been forgiven.
Beth had walked with Harry to his car, where he’d kissed her lightly. He took her car keys off her and told her not to worry about her car. She wasn’t concerned; she’d forgotten all about it. And Yash… she’d pay as he demanded without Harry knowing. He had fulfilled his part of the deal, after all. Somehow, because of Lara, she felt stronger. She hoped she felt this strong when the time came for her to pay Yash.
Steven phoned into work and told them he couldn’t come in. They already knew his predicament over his missing daughter, so when he explained, they offered him immediate emergency leave.
Renia bought Alison home—Alison’s knitting had grown into the strangest shape—and as Steven ran her a bath and then put her to bed, he and Beth sat downstairs talking. They didn’t judge or shout, just talked.
He told Beth that he didn’t think Alison—the old Alison before the crash—would want him to put his life on hold for her, and if he did put it on hold, he couldn’t guarantee his drinking would stop.
Hearing that yesterday, Beth would have sneered at him and told him he was using that as blackmail, but this new Beth understood—or tried to. She listened as Steven spoke candidly about Sarah.
He loved her and part of him not conquering his demons was because he thought they could never be together. He told Beth he never expected to fall in love again, but it had happened, and he hadn’t known how to deal with it.
And the crucial question on Beth’s lips: ‘What about Mum?’
He’d replied, ‘She’s my responsibility, Beth. You, Lara, and your mum are all my responsibility. It is not the other way around. My Ali will always be cared for. I love her, and I’ll never stop loving her.’
◆◆◆
Beth phoned in sick to her cleaning job for a second time, but she didn’t care. She had so much to do. She’d accepted Harry’s offer of the Bromley pub, at least in her head. She’d mentioned it to her dad last night, and he’d been ecstatic.
If that was the case, Steven had told her, he wouldn’t beg their landlord to keep the house but would accept the eviction and move to Bromley to be close to Beth. He declined Beth’s offer of living in the pub, saying the temptation of being near alcohol would be too much.
The following day was Wednesday and Beth’s day off. Usually it was a day for her and her mum to spend together, but this time there was Harry, too. Beth was barely out of bed when he came knocking at the door. She answered it to see him standing on the doorstep, dangling her car keys from his fingers and holding a delicatessen bag up for her to see. Her car was parked outside her house.
‘Breakfast?’ he said. Smiling, she stood back to let him in. He kissed her as he stepped into the hall. ‘Shall I take that as a “yes”?’
She laughed. ‘Yes!’
In the kitchen, he unpacked the bag to reveal fluffy croissants and several crusty rolls filled with crispy bacon. They were hot and smelled delicious. Lastly, he pulled out individual pots labelled ‘breakfast fruit’. Typically, her breakfast was basic cereal or toast, but the feast he placed before her made her mouth water.
‘You know these would go lovely with coffee,’ he said, with a teasing smile.
She punched his arm lightly and turned to fill the kettle. As she did, she said, ‘I told my dad about Bromley. Is the, er, job offer still open? If so, I’d love to accept.’
Arms slipped around her waist, and warm lips were pressed against her cheek. ‘The job’s yours. It does come with a sexy-looking owner, though. He’s housetrained, and especially likes that thing you do with your tongue…’
She spun around in his arms. ‘You’re asking me to move in with you?’
‘Too sudden? We’ve only known one another five-odd years, after all.’ His smile faded. ‘Seriously though, Beth, I don’t currently live there and I’d be moving in with you, not the other way around. It really is a job offer. You’ll be the manager but if you get lonely… I could move in?’ He pulled a woeful face. ‘I live in a featureless apartment. I want a home, somewhere to settle, and when I saw the Rabbit Warren pub, I thought it was great. It’s a lovely family pub. You’ll love it.’
‘It does feel sudden, but we’ve wasted so much time as it is.’
‘True.’ He kissed the tip of her nose.
‘Dad thought Bromley was a great idea. He thinks I’m crazy if I don’t accept.’
‘I do, too.’ He tipped her back to nibble her throat.
Beth batted him away. ‘Harry, stop. This is a huge decision. Dad won’t live there, well, maybe he will to begin with, but he doesn’t want the temptation of alcohol. We’re not sure what’ll happen, to be honest. With Mum, that is. I want her with me but—’
He righted her but didn’t release her. ‘I know it’s a big decision. But what’s the alternative? You rent another house and work as a bartender in a corner pub. Darling, the Rabbit Warren is big enough for a live-in nurse, if necessary. I’m sure you and your dad will sort something out. Joint care or something.’
He let her go so she could make the coffee, then they took their food into the lounge. Harry carried the coffee and placed the cups on the coffee table. ‘How are things with your dad?’
‘I’m learning to bite my tongue. I think we bickered so much in the past we forgot each of us has feelings. But I’m sure we will work things out. It’s the bigger elephant in the room that’s the problem, isn’t it?’
Harry put his bacon roll back on the plate as if his appetite had dried up.
‘Has Yash called you?’
She shook her head. ‘Not yet, but he will, and he’ll want his pound of flesh. Can you live with that?’
Harry wouldn’t meet her eyes.
Alison trotted down the stairs in her rainbow-coloured dressing gown. She was rubbing her eyes, looking like a child instead of a middle-aged woman. ‘I can smell dinner,’ she said.
Beth got up to offer her some of the food Harry had brought over and put the TV on while they ate, so Alison would be occupied while they continued talking.
‘Just make me a promise: When he calls or texts you, let me know before you reply. Promise?’ Harry asked her.
‘Yash is a Jelvia, Harry. What he says goes.’
‘You said he didn’t rape you…?’ His voice trailed off with the question.
‘He didn’t,’ she said.
‘Then what—’
‘Don’t go there, Harry,’ she said.
Harry looked at the TV. It was the news, and the broadcaster was talking about the protesters. They’d started up again, and were bigger and louder than ever.
There was a sea of angry faces. A sea of banners.
WAKE UP, WORLD.
OPEN YOUR EYES!
JELVIAS ARE ALIENS.
‘I’m pretty sure my uncle is behind those marches,’ Harry said.
Beth nearly choked on her bacon. ‘James Sullivan?’
Harry nodded.
‘He thinks they’re aliens?’
‘I don’t know about that—I doubt he’s that crazy. I tried mentioning him to my mum the other day, but she refuses to acknowledge him. She doesn’t outwardly blame him for Leigh’s death, but we all know if it weren’t for James, Leigh would probably still be alive.’
‘Have your family ostracised him?’
‘They don’t talk about him, let’s just say that.’
They both heard a door open upstairs.
‘That’s Dad,’ Beth said. She glanced across at her mum. ‘Hey, Mum, enjoying your breakfast?’
Alison looked down at the croissant on her plate. ‘This toast is a bit bumpy.’
Beth looked at Harry, and they both smiled at one another.
‘If James is the reason
for all that’—she waved a hand at the TV— ‘does that mean he doesn’t have a good relationship with Jelvias anymore?’
‘He told me he’d do anything to help them even if it meant exposing them. Whatever that meant. I think he’s been on his own for far too long.’
‘I think your uncle is dangerous.’ Beth’s eyes were round, and she knew fear shone from them. ‘Not to us directly, but his association with Jelvias. Let’s not involve him with Yash. Please, Harry, don’t tell him anything more.’
‘I didn’t tell him much to begin with.’
They heard footsteps on the stairs, and then Steven came into the room. He beamed on seeing Harry and a normal—or normal-ish—breakfast resumed.
FORTY
As if to ignore their spider-shaped problem, Beth and Harry drove out to Bromley to visit the Rabbit Warren. It was a beautiful Old-English looking inn, and a lot bigger than Beth had anticipated.
Steven and Alison had already gone inside, but Beth was still outside, glancing around at the exterior and marvelling at how a building built twenty years ago could look so ‘olde worlde’. It was a typical English country-style inn with an expanse of ground dotted with picnic tables.
Beth wandered around with Harry following as if anxious she wasn’t going to like it. But how could she not like it? Running something like this had never been on her agenda—she’d thought it too far out of her league.
‘Is it three storeys?’ she asked.
‘Yes, well, we moved into the loft space. You have a bedroom and a bathroom up there, and I think an office. Come and look.’
‘I will, but I’d like to see the actual mechanics of the pub first,’ she said, trying to stay professional and not let her bubbling excitement get in the way.
‘Absolutely. This way,’ Harry said. He looked as excited as she felt. He grabbed her hand and took her inside, almost pulling her. She had to slow him down, which he did with a laugh. Steven and Alison were nowhere to be seen. Harry led her towards the commercial kitchen first.
Beth had waitressed in a few restaurants and knew her way around a kitchen this size, but never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d be the manager of one. It was busy and hot in the kitchen, with chefs and kitchen staff working flat-out to feed people dining in the pub.
‘I thought it was a small family pub.’
‘We arrived during the busy lunchtime. Don’t let that put you off,’ Harry said. ‘The head chef has everything in hand, and I doubt you’ll need to intervene. Want me to introduce you?’
‘No. Plenty of time for that when it’s not so busy.’
‘Right you are.’ He looped an arm around her shoulders and walked her back into the restaurant area. Harry pointed out various things around the restaurant, from the microwave baby-bottle heat-up corner to the outside patio area.
‘The restaurant is only three years old,’ Harry said. ‘The Rabbit had an extension, and voilà, this was born. We should have done it years ago. It was an immediate success.’
Beth moved across to the window and peered out. She pointed to a corner in the garden. ‘I saw that when we first arrived. It’ll make a great barbecue area in the summer months.’ She looked towards the field behind the garden. ‘Are you on friendly terms with the owner of that land?’
‘No idea, but I could find out. Why?’
‘Just thinking of a potential firework night. Maybe a bonfire.’ She glanced at Harry to find him smiling at her. ‘What?’
‘This is why I know you’re going to be brilliant here. Come on, I’ll show you the cellar.’
‘How come your manager wants to give up this place?’ she asked, as they moved out of the restaurant.
‘He’s taken early retirement. His family have emigrated to America and he wants to join them, but as a favour to us, he’s agreed to stay on to show the new manager the ropes. He’ll be here soon and you’ll get to meet him. He’s called Rob. A nice old boy.’
‘He’s still living here?’
‘Ah, no. The company has rented accommodation for him, so this place is ready for you to move in whenever you like,’ Harry said. He took her through a door marked “staff only”, which led into a corridor. He pointed to a door. ‘That’s the staffroom, and through there are the staff toilets.’ He opened the door to a staircase leading down. ‘The cellar,’ he said. ‘Want to see it? Most pub cellars are the same.’
‘Harry! The cellar is the centre of the pub and should be treated with respect. I hope the staff know their cellar maintenance.’
He grinned at her. ‘Of course.’ He waved a hand towards the steps. ‘After you, madam.’
Laughing, she headed down. She was beginning to enjoy herself. ‘You know,’ she said, ‘the main problems with cellars is that staff aren’t properly trained to change gas, kegs, and casks.’ At the bottom, she moved around the cellar, inspecting the barrels, the gauges on the casks, and the temperature.
‘Have we passed?’ asked Harry when she threw him a smile.
She nodded. ‘Ten out of ten. I’m impressed.’
‘Good, then let’s go. It’s cold down here!’
She put her hands on her hips. ‘Still claustrophobic, Harry?’
He grinned at her. ‘Only in cellars!’ He grabbed her hand. ‘Come on, let’s go.’
She allowed herself to be pulled back up the stairs and was tugged up the corridor and back out into the restaurant. Harry let her hand go in the restaurant and led her through a wide archway into the bar area. It was busy in the bar, but not overly so. Beth looked around. It was far superior to the Dog and Gun, and the clientele were business people, middle-aged couples, or countrified folk. She was used to being yelled and sworn at, or asked how much she’d charge for a night and whether she was into making up a foursome. Here, she’d be respected.
And somehow, that made the Rabbit Warren seem more intimidating. If she messed up here, it’d be noticeable—Dog and Gun, not so much. Apprehension fluttered in her stomach.
‘As you can see,’ Harry continued, ‘the bar area needs a renovation.’ It looked okay to her. ‘It’s a little dated, don’t you think? It doesn’t match the restaurant.’
‘That’s only because the restaurant is new,’ she said.
‘Well, if you don’t think it needs fixing up then that’s down to you. You’re the boss.’ He grinned at her, and she forced a smile back. The apprehension in her stomach was growing. She knew this was a fantastic opportunity, but she was a barmaid, for God’s sake! A barmaid and a cleaner!
‘Fixtures and furnishings are part of the package in your accommodation, but if there’s anything you don’t want, just say the word, and I’ll get it changed for you,’ Harry continued as they crossed the bar towards an unlit fireplace. ‘The décor in one of the bedrooms is a bit strange. I think Rob had a child who was a Goth. But all the staff are friendly. What do you think so far? The restaurant is pretty much perfect, but I’d like to liven up the bar. It’s—’ He looked around ‘—a little old fashioned. That fireplace, for instance—’
‘It’s lovely.’
‘You think?’
‘It just needs smartening up. You can’t go too “lively” in here,’ Beth said, ‘or you’ll lose your regulars. People hate change. And anyway, it has to match the restaurant and that has a relaxed vibe to it.’
He was listening to her in earnest. ‘Really?’
She nodded, looking around at her surroundings. ‘People come here knowing they can relax. They know they can just chill in the bar or eat in the restaurant over a bottle of wine.’
‘So what do you think? Do I have a definite yes?’
She looked at him. He seemed so excited. When she didn’t immediately answer him, his face dropped.
‘Not having second thoughts?’ He took her hands. ‘Is it all too much?’
‘Harry, Harry! Sssh.’ Standing on tiptoe, she landed a kiss on his chin. ‘I’m overwhelmed, that’s all. Do you really think I can manage a pub this size?’
‘
Of course! You practically ran the Dog and Gun, and the clientele was’—he pulled a face— ‘a cross between a knocking shop and a drug den. It’s been a thorn in our side for years. And you handled that perfectly. You’re a natural, Beth. And the staff here are great.’
‘Ah, there you are,’ a portly woman said. She beamed at Beth and Harry. Harry had introduced her to the staff, but she couldn’t remember this woman’s name.
‘Have you been looking for us, Sally?’ Harry said. ‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing. Quite the contrary, we’re all looking forward to getting to know Beth. I’ve just sent coffee upstairs to the lounge. Your parents are there already, and I wondered if you wanted to join them.’ She turned to Beth, saying, ‘Alison’s adorable! My elderly mother has dementia, so I know what you’re going through, lovey.’
In another life, Beth would’ve snapped, “My mother doesn’t have dementia”. But now, she just smiled and thanked the older woman.
‘Come on,’ said Harry, ‘I must have bored you senseless with the process of the pub, which you would know standing on your head. Let’s get a coffee break. Thanks, Sally,’ he added as he ushered Beth away.
Beth hadn’t looked at the living accommodation yet, but as she and Harry made their way to the upper floors, she could see that this was a new kind of luxury. From living in the smallest two-bed terrace house in the world, she would now be living in a six-bedroom home with its own private garden. The living quarters, as Harry called them, had their own private staircase behind a lockable door. At the Dog and Gun, all and sundry were allowed up in Colin’s living space.
The lounge was plush. Alison sat in a leather chair, staring goggle-eyed at the huge wall-mounted curved TV.
On a glass coffee table, Steven was cutting a large cake into slices. A pot of coffee was on a tray nestled between cups, a jug of milk, and a bowl of sugar. All the china matched. Steven looked up as they came in.
‘Bloody hell, Beth, this is amazing!’ he said.
‘The cake or the pub?’ she asked.