by Jane Taylor
Eventually I summoned the courage to email him and politely ask for an invoice. I received an equally polite reply stating the amount due, which I paid by post the following day. Job done…incident closed, as far as I was concerned.
It was soon September and my boys were leaving home. I had mixed emotions about that. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted them to be independent, confident young men, but I also wanted to keep them home and safe. I know…but as any of you who have had to watch your fledglings fly will know, it’s not easy to let go, is it?
Toby was off on a gap year “Grand Tour” financed by his father, before he started university the following year. He and six of his friends were backpacking around the world. Sam, whose love of growing things had since developed into a love of farming, had secured himself a live-in working apprenticeship on a farm in the Cotswolds for a year, until he started Agricultural College the following September.
The house seemed quiet and extremely tidy after I had tearfully bade farewell to them within days of each other. I held little hope that Toby’s assurances that he would ring weekly would materialise, he was very much a free spirit, and tended to need to “do his own thing”. Sam, bless him, had already rung me four times in the six days since he had left. He was a little homesick, but loving the farm and I knew everything that went on in a piggery in minute detail, actually, rather more than I wanted to know.
‘So how are you doing? Alison asked as she flipped through a clothes rail full of skirts. We were having a rare day out shopping in Lincoln.
‘Not too bad, I miss the boys but Sam will be home for Christmas. I keep looking forward to that, but work is driving me mad. Do you know, I really think I’m beginning to hate it there. The new manager is a right bastard. He has his head so far up his own arse, it’s a wonder he doesn’t fart when he speaks.’
‘Oh dear… not good.’ Alison giggled, ‘But that’s an interesting metaphor.’
She flipped through the rail once more not really looking at anything in particular.
‘I’m fed up of this now… I can’t find a single thing I like. Shall we go get some lunch?’
‘Sounds like a plan…where do you fancy?’
We settled on a little Dickensian looking “Ye Olde Tea Shoppe” kind of place in one of the back streets. It was quaint and sold the most amazing looking homemade cakes.
‘A ham salad sandwich and a piece of coconut cake please,’ I told the waitress, once we were sitting at a little gingham clad table.
‘I’ll have the same,’ said Alison, ‘but I’ll have the Victoria sponge I think?’
‘You know, I’d love a place like this,’ said Alison a moment later.
‘A tea shop?’ I asked.
‘Yes…or a flower shop…I’m not fussy.’
‘Or both…why settle for less!’ I laughed.
‘No honestly, Katie, I’m serious. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. You know Mark has been working more and more from home lately?’ I nodded. ‘Well, I love him dearly, but he’s driving me crazy. He’s under my feet all the time, yelling for food or drinks from the study, yelling for the kids to keep quiet…argh! I’ve threatened to put him in the shed if he keeps it up.’
‘Right, so how does this …?’
‘Ah well…I had a thought, why don’t I go out to work instead?’
‘I’m not with you.’
‘Well it’s so long since I worked for anybody I’m not sure I could handle being bossed around, but if I had my own business…do you see?’
‘And you’re thinking tea shop?’
‘Yes…or flower shop, after all we spent all those months at the classes. What do you think, great idea or what?’ Actually it was and I could see Alison was excited about the prospect.
‘Flippin’ marvellous idea, Ali. I think you should do it.’
Bashfulness is not something I associate with Alison, but that is exactly how she appeared when she next spoke.
‘Hmm…I’m glad you said that coz there’s one slight problem, I don’t think I could raise enough capital to do it on my own.’ It took a moment for the penny to drop.
‘You mean you want me to go in with you, a joint venture?’
‘Yes, wouldn’t it be fantastic? Could you afford it, do you think?’ The earnest look on her face made me realise how much this meant to her – what the hell – I thought, it’s only money. I was, in my usual fashion, making snap decisions. I just hoped to God I didn’t regret this one.
‘Well, it depends on how much we would need, but I still have some of my divorce money invested and a tiny bit saved… go on then, you’ve twisted my arm… partner.’
Alison’s shriek of delight startled the other customers, but we ignored them as we sat, heads together, making plans. The more we talked the more I came round to the idea of being my own boss; it would give me the greatest of pleasure to be able to tell the manager to shove his job up his arse – that is, if he could fit it alongside his head.
It amazes me how life works. Sometimes it feels like you’re bumping along, hanging on for dear life, dodging copious dollops of the brown stuff and other times everything just slips into place without you even trying. Amazingly, the latter was what happened next.
A month after his departure, and two weeks into our search for the perfect shop, I finally received word from Toby in the form of a hastily written postcard. It was dated two weeks previously (which mollified me slightly) and stated that they were in Tibet with no phone signal, but moving on to China the following day. I did wonder if it occurred to him that he could actually have used a landline, but at least he had written, so I wouldn’t moan at him.
It was a day for international post, I mused, as I rummaged through the rest of the mail, which I’d slung in a heap on the table in my eagerness to read Toby’s postcard. There was a letter with an Australian postmark. I knew the only person it could be from was Jethro.
As I mentioned earlier, over the years we had exchanged letters. Once I’d moved to Gringly, I’d felt the need to get in touch with him to explain the misunderstanding with my father. He had known my mother and understood, although he was sad at the way things had turned out. I hadn’t contacted my half brother and sister though, I just never came to terms with the jealousy I felt about them growing up with our father. (Actually, I still haven’t, that’s something I really will have to deal with… perhaps I should have mentioned it to Patti…nah! She’d have had a field day with that juicy titbit.)
I popped the kettle on and made a cup of tea so I could sit and enjoy Jethro’s letter. He was always amusing, although now in his late ninety’s he had failing eyesight and had to dictate his last few letters to someone else. His beloved wife Julia, was dead and he had no children, so I assumed it was a friend or carer who helped him out.
The letter was from neither, it was from Jethro’s solicitor. Jethro had died in his sleep a few months previously. It was so sad, I liked Jethro, and he had been the last link I had to my father. I said a silent prayer for him before reading on.
Apparently, I was one of the beneficiaries of his will. His estate, which included a sheep station and various investments, had been sold off and I was to receive the sum of one hundred and thirty-eight thousand pounds. What? I had to read that part again…yes, I had read right…oh-my-god!
I had no inkling that Jethro was worth that sort of money, or that he would leave me any, it just never entered my head. I read the rest of the letter requesting details so they could transfer the money to me, in somewhat of a daze. When I had eventually calmed down enough to think straight, I knew there was one thing I needed to do. After an email to the solicitors in Australia to find out where Jethro was buried; I arranged to have flowers delivered to his grave. I felt it was the least I could do and the only way I could thank him for his generosity.
‘My goodness… what are you going to do with it?’ Alison asked, when I phoned to give her the news.
‘Well for a start – you and I are going to ha
ve the best flower shop in Nottinghamshire, then I’m going to invest some of it for the boys.’
‘Katie, you can’t put in more than me, it wouldn’t be fair on you.’
‘Look the business can pay me back later, but do you see what this means?
We can widen our search and look at more up-market properties…how great is that?
‘Are you sure Katie? It just doesn’t seem right to me.’
‘Oh, hush up, you silly woman…and get searching.’
Three weeks later, I took a phone call at work from Alison.
‘You are never gonna believe this…but I think I’ve found our shop.’
‘Really…where?’
‘That’s the amazing bit – it’s right here, in Retford.’ Wow! That was good news.
‘Retford? But we search all over there for a suitable place, where in Retford?’
‘You know the little walled Georgian square just off the market place?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well there were three derelict properties up for sale in there last spring and guess who bought them?’
‘Who?’
‘Robbie!’
‘Oh.’ Flippin’ Robbie – that man was haunting me. He was always there, lurking at the back of my life. And what was worse, just a mention of his name was still enough to cause my tummy to flip. How bloody pathetic was that?
‘Oh… I forgot,’ Alison was saying now. ‘Is that going to be a problem? It’s just Mark mentioned what we were doing to him last night and he’s offered it at a really good rent and he’ll discount on the fittings. But look Katie, if dealing with Robbie is going to stress you out, then I’ll tell him to forget it. We can find somewhere else.’
I could hear how much it cost her to say that, it was also completely obvious she had set her heart on this place. I decided to be professional about it. I could work with Robbie, I was, after all, a grown up, and bollocks to tummy flips and bruised egos.
‘Of course it won’t be a problem, Ali, that was months ago.’
(Four months and twelve – no thirteen days ago, to be precise). ‘I’ve forgotten all about that.’
‘You’re sure?’ Like I said, that’s the trouble with having a close friend, they know you inside out.
‘I’m sure.’
‘Ok, well, I’ve already been to have a look at it this morning, but shall I meet you there later when you finish work? After all we both have to like the place.’
‘If you like it – I’ll like it, so don’t worry about that. It’s my half day today, so I can meet you about three?’
‘Great… I’ll see you then, wait ‘till you see it Katie, it’s perfect.’
Chapter Eighteen
The shop was perfect, nestled as it was between a book shop and a bakery, both of which seemed to be doing a good trade when we went to have a look. I even managed to stay true to my word and maintained a professional exterior when we met up with Robbie. That was unexpected because I hadn’t realised he would actually be there. I say exterior because inside I was still feeling hurt about being notch number god knows how many on his very long belt.
Well you would wouldn’t you? I would have much preferred honesty, it may be tough to swallow, but at least you know where you stand. I was adamant there was no way he was going to see that he had any effect on me whatsoever. Look, I admit it… I have a problem with rejection, OK?
We discussed how we would refit the shop and took note of any suggestions Robbie made. I had to concede that he might be a shit, but he knew his stuff and had some excellent ideas we would never have thought of. He was polite and professional throughout; although I did notice that he addressed most of his comments to Alison.
‘Robbie has just phoned,’ Alison was saying a couple of weeks later. ‘He’s got the plans and costings worked out and wants to meet with us. I’ve suggested your place because you know what it’s like here, we’ll never get any peace…is that OK?’
Obviously it would have to be, now she had arranged it. But noise or not, I would still have preferred her house.
I gripped the phone tightly. ‘OK, when?’
‘Tonight…about seven thirty.’
I supressed a sigh. Did she not realise I needed time to get used to the idea of having Robbie sitting on my sofa? No of course she didn’t, and whose fault was that? I reminded myself. After all, I had told her I was fine dealing with Robbie.
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Should I do food?’
‘I wouldn’t have thought so, I’ll have eaten anyway. I suppose you could offer Robbie a sandwich or something if he hasn’t eaten already. I’ll leave it with you.’
I decided to go with the sandwich idea.
Now that the boys were gone, I didn’t normally light the fire in the sitting room, it always seemed a waste just for me and I hated cleaning the thing out the following day. However, as I was having guests I decided I would light it for a change. I waited for the kindling to take hold before I went upstairs for a shower.
This is completely silly I know; Robbie had about as much interest in me as he had of catching flu, but I couldn’t help taking extra care with my make-up. It took ages to decide on a white mohair sweater and my best fit jeans, but it was OK, I reassured myself half a dozen times, it was for my own benefit. Yeah right!
So you can imagine my dismay when at ten to seven, I came downstairs to find the fire almost out and smoke was backing up into the room. ‘Damn and blast it!’ I wailed. The room was stinking from the smell of the smoke and I rushed to open the front door to let it escape.
I stood looking at the offending fireplace. ‘Sodding thing,’ I grumbled, ‘why tonight? What the hell was wrong with it?’ For some reason and I’ve never been clear why I did it, I picked up the poker and rolling the sleeve of my snow white jumper as far up my arm as I could, I thrust the poker up the chimney and started to feel around for a blockage.
I could feel something stuck just where the chimney narrowed and as gently as I could I prodded whatever it was. It wouldn’t budge, so I kneeled closer on the hearth and gave one more shove. To my relief what looked like an old birds nest landed in the grate, however, I wasn’t prepared for the huge clump of soot that followed it down. It happened so fast, I didn’t have time to do anything other than shut my eyes as a cloud of loose soot enveloped me from head to foot.
Then I heard an almighty belly laugh, it was male and I knew without opening my eyes it was Robbie. I could have happily died on the spot. He continued laughing and after dusting the soot away from my eyes, I opened them to see him standing in the open doorway, almost doubled over with mirth. He actually had tears streaming down his face.
‘Well I’m glad you find this so amusing,’ I spat indignantly through soot covered lips.
‘Oh Katie… that has to be the funniest thing I’ve ever seen!’ I could see he was at least trying to control himself as he spoke, but two seconds later he started again.
‘Oh just go away, Robbie,’ I hissed, as I began to get to my feet.
‘No! Don’t move, you’ll get soot everywhere,’ he protested. ‘Where do you keep the vacuum?’
I was so humiliated I could not bring myself to speak, so I pointed to the cupboard under the stairs. I had little alternative a moment later, but to sufferer the indignity of being hovered from top to toe by Robbie… who was still trying to get himself under control.
‘Right, you go and have a shower, I’ll do what I can here,’ he said, while biting his lips between his teeth to supress his next bout of laughter.
I managed a very small, ‘Thank you,’ before hurrying upstairs. I was appalled a moment later when I looked at myself in the mirror; I looked like Bozo the Clown’s negative.
I hadn’t spent a moment thinking about what to wear when I was showered. I’d dragged on an old pair of leggings and a baggy shirt and gone downstairs to help Robbie and no doubt, Alison, who would have arrived by now, with the cleaning up.
OK, I’m just going to skim over the facts ab
out what happened next, but, before you judge me too harshly, please remember I’ve always had a “thing” for Robbie.
I went downstairs to be told by Robbie that Alison had rung to say she couldn’t make it because Luke had broken his leg, she and Mark were at the hospital waiting for it to be plastered. The smartest thing I could have done right then, would have been to rearrange the meeting for another time. However, this is me and we all know just how smart I am, so what did I do? I offered Robbie a coffee and sandwich, which he duly accepted. OK, so I’m going to cut to the chase, we ended up in bed…. again.
How? I honestly don’t know. One minute we were talking about the shop refit, the next we were kissing. I am positive of one thing though – I did not make the first move. In fact, I didn’t do anything except trail behind him while he led me upstairs.
This time was completely different from the first. I couldn’t decide if that was natural progression or Robbie realizing a more gentle approach was needed in light of my revelation previously. Either way, I wasn’t bothered, as I lost myself in the easy ebb and flow of our passion.
Going against every cell of my being, I resisted the urge to ask what had happened last time. I think I was too scared of a repeat performance to risk it. This seemed to be the right decision, as over the following few weeks, Robbie and I started dating. Yes, you read right… Robbie and I were dating!
I couldn’t bear the look on Alison’s face a month later when I finally had to fess up about it. She cornered me one afternoon when we were in the shop daubing colours on the walls. We were no way near the paint stage yet, but we couldn’t wait. Robbie had been there constructing what looked like being the most beautiful display shelves. We were going with a French Shabby Chic theme, and the shelves although new, had a rustic old charm about them. Robbie had left to do a quote for another job, so we were alone.