by Kirsty Ferry
Kate shook her head after them as they made their way into the first cottage. ‘You’re unbelievable,’ she told Jenna. ‘Like they’ll have time to read it?’ The man had already scooped his little girl up and the guide book was now sticking out of his back pocket like a baton.
Jenna shrugged and swept her glossy dark curls over her shoulder. ‘Not my problem.’
‘Yes, but you’re not on commission.’ In fact, she was only working with Kate because her usual assistant, Maeve, was doing some sort of research project in Scotland. Apparently, they’d found a stone crannog – an ancient man-made island which people used to live on – in the Outer Hebrides, and she was up there helping to excavate it.
Jenna’s father was the museum board’s Chair and had pulled strings in order to secure this temporary assignment for his twenty-year old daughter. She hated the job with a passion – ‘old stuff is, like, so boring!’ – but was doing some sort of penance there for defrauding her father’s credit card. The girl was, in Kate’s opinion, a silly, spoiled brat; extremely pretty and used to snapping her fingers and getting whatever she wanted. But this time, Daddy had been pushed too far – and as Kate was desperate for some help in Maeve’s absence, Jenna was sent to fill the gap.
Jenna had no compassion for people. Kate would never try to hard-sell a guide book to anyone. They were on the table and if visitors wanted one, fine. There were plenty of information boards up if not. What she often found was that customers came back to get a book afterwards as a souvenir because they’d enjoyed the museum so much. Jenna didn’t see it that way, sadly. Kate thought she was doing business or marketing and was, she supposed, very good at the mechanics of turning a profit. But she had no people skills, unless the people in question were men.
‘No. I’m not on commission and I think I should be,’ Jenna said, looking dead serious.
Kate frowned at her. ‘I think not.’
They barely tolerated one another until about one o’clock, when Kate simply had to get out of there before she said something she regretted. Jenna had sold seven guide-books and flirted with twice that many men. Kate didn’t quite know how she did it.
‘I’m off to find some lunch. Would you like anything from Delilah’s?’ It was Friday, after all. Kate reckoned she deserved something from Delilah’s.
Jenna pulled a face. ‘No. I’ll just have a coffee and a ciggie later. I’m not hungry.’
‘Okay.’ Kate didn’t bother to try and persuade her. ‘Catch you later.’
Kate squeezed out behind Jenna and headed out of the cosy little reception area. The cottages were stone-built and the entrance to this first one was all nice and white-washed, and Kate liked to keep it as welcoming as possible, even though it could be a little dark and crowded at times. There was a lovely collection of clocks around the walls, from wall-clocks to a big grandfather clock which had come from the Hall. Most of them told the right time. Two didn’t. One was stuck at 11.15 and the grandfather clock was stuck at 3.27, holding memories of long-forgotten hours on long-forgotten days. A beautiful phrase was written in gold on the bottom of the grandfather clock’s face, under the Hartsford coat of arms; Hodie est tempus nostrum. Today is our time.
But, as Kate told herself, at least those clocks were right twice a day. And she loved the co-ordinated ticking of them all. It was such a comforting sound; but thank goodness she’d disabled all the chimes, bar that of the cuckoo clock. She adored that cuckoo. He reminded her of her Great-Aunt’s house when she was small; Kate and her older brother Tom sitting in the less formal ‘back room’ and Kate hoping she’d be there long enough to see the cuckoo peek his head out and say hello.
She wandered through the village to Delilah’s tea-shop and saw that it was pretty busy too. Hartsford was doing well today. For such a small place, they were certainly on the tourist trail. It helped, she knew, that the Hall was on the list as one of the ‘Top Ten Tourist Attractions of Suffolk.’
Once inside Delilah’s, Kate spotted a box full of scones and cakes labelled up with the word ‘Hall’ and suspected that they had put a call in for extra treats up there. Delilah supplied the Hall with food for the Garden Kiosk and the Gypsy Tea Caravan and it all worked perfectly. Cassie had been right – she could maybe get away with ice-creams at the museum, a vending machine serving coffee and tea at the very most, but no way could she or would she even try to compete with Delilah.
Kate shuffled her way to the front of the queue, trying to decide on a jacket potato or a toasted Panini.
‘Hello Kate!’ said Delilah as she approached the counter. ‘It’s nice to see you.’
‘Well it’s Friday.’ Kate smiled. ‘Can’t resist a treat on a Friday. I’ll have a ham and cheese Panini, please, if that’s okay.’
‘Takeaway?’ asked Delilah, making a note.
‘Yes – I’ll have to dash back with it. I can’t leave the place for too long.’ Kate pulled a face.
Delilah mirrored her expression. ‘Is she still up to her tricks?’
Kate nodded. ‘Yep. Seems like she’s here for the duration. I’m hoping Maeve’s Scottish project doesn’t take too long’
‘I completely understand. Look. I’ll toss in a fairy cake for you as well. Make you feel better, eh?’
Kate laughed. ‘Oh, Delilah. This is why I love Hartsford so much! You lot are just awesome.’
‘“You lot”?’ repeated Delilah, her eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘And by that you mean …?’
‘The locals.’ Kate leaned forward and spoke in a stage whisper. ‘You know. Because I’m not one.’
Delilah laughed and shook her head. ‘I know!’ It was a standing joke between them that one rather unpleasant tourist on a bus trip had asked Kate, quite snippily, how she could even run a Suffolk folk museum, when she wasn’t a Suffolk girl – because she didn’t even sound like she was a local. Kate had lived in Cambridge most of her life and didn’t think she sounded that odd, or that alien to the area, but to some people she must, clearly, sound un-local.
‘Thanks for this, anyway.’ Kate held up the little paper bag. ‘I’ll just wait along here for my sandwich.’ She paid and sidled to the edge of the counter. But yeah, she couldn’t help it. She opened the paper bag and scoffed the cake while she was waiting.
It had been her hair that caught his attention at first – and one of the main things that had struck him about her this morning, when they’d collided on the main street. The other thing that had struck him was that he knew her from somewhere. But perhaps that was just wishful thinking; he’d always had a thing for red-heads and this particular red-head was also very nicely packaged up in a pair of skin-tight jeans.
There didn’t look as if there was a lot of room inside those jeans for the cake she was demolishing, but apparently there was enough. She finished the little pink thing in a couple of bites and it was quite impressive to witness.
She looked around as if checking to see if anyone had seen her; and that’s when she spotted him, looking at her. She blushed and Theo Kent couldn’t help but laugh.
The girl hesitated a moment, then smiled and shrugged. ‘I recommend the fairy cakes.’
‘I’m glad to hear it! How did you get on at the bakery?’ She was standing next to the bureau where the spoons and the sugar were. Theo moved towards her with his takeaway coffee and she made room for him.
‘Oh! Fine thank you. Again – I’m so sorry for almost mowing you down.’
‘As you can see, there was no lasting damage.’ He ripped the corner off a packet of sugar and tipped it in the drink. ‘Enjoy your day.’ He nodded at her. Then he grinned suddenly. ‘I hope we bump into each other again.’
She crumpled the bag up and laughed. ‘It’s a small village. We’re bound to. You have a good day too!’
‘Your Panini’s ready my love,’ called the lady behind the counter. She held up a polystyrene container and the girl hurried over and relieved her of it.
Theo stirred his coffee and watched until the red-
head dashed out of the coffee shop and across the road. He wondered where she was heading and also, idly, whether she was single.
Not that it really mattered; he had other things to worry about.
He adjusted his backpack. He needed to finish his lunch, head back to the campsite and get sorted. Then he was hoping to make it to the Folk Museum before it closed. Maeve had said he’d find it interesting. He only had a few days in Suffolk, but he was hoping to squeeze a lot in. And he wouldn’t get much squeezing done if he loitered here instead of re-reading his map to find out where the hell he was supposed to be going.
Kate had her lunch at one of the picnic tables next to the duck pond. Her feathered friends squawked over to her, gabbling incessantly about how starving they were, and she tossed some crumbs down for them, lobbing the scraps as far away as she could. Those ducks had been known to clamber up onto the tables before now and terrorise the visitors.
It really was a beautiful day. Not too hot, but just right. Kate stretched her legs out in front of her and wiggled her toes in her sandals. It wasn’t hot enough for her to shed her jeans yet, but at least she had lost her trainers. It was progress.
Kate looked up at the first cottage where the reception was and again cursed Jenna. It was just as well Jenna wasn’t that interested in the rest of the museum, as Kate would have been particularly offended to have her anywhere near the ice-skates – or, even worse, the last house. The one that was done out as an estate cottage. It had been the blacksmith’s home once upon a time; there was a horseshoe on the front door and a pile of crumbled stones not very far along the road. Within the ruin, they had located evidence of a possible furnace and it all made sense. It was, according to some old maps of the area, his forge. Kate liked horses and she thought that being a blacksmith would have been quite a nice job. It would have been a fairly steady one as well, seeing as the Hartsford family had always loved their racehorses.
Anyway, it was two o’clock and Kate’s lunch break was over. She couldn’t dwell on how lovely it must have been to work with horses; it was time to get back to the museum. She weaved her way between the rabid ducks and wondered if she could get rid of Jenna a little bit early. She couldn’t be bothered with her for the next few hours anyway and she was pretty sure Jenna wouldn’t object. Maybe if she just covered until the lunchtime rush had abated? Which – Kate checked her watch – would be about now.
In fact: ‘Jenna, do you want an early finish?’ she asked as she walked back in. ‘I’m sure it’ll die down now and I’ve got nothing else planned. You might as well take advantage.’
The girl was twirling her hair around her fingers and posturing somewhat. ‘Oh. Kate. Hi.’ She had the courtesy to look away from the man leaning on the nearest wall. ‘He was just waiting for you.’
‘Oh. Hi, Chris,’ Kate said, thrown a little.
‘Hey, Kate,’ her boyfriend said.
Chris leaned over and kissed her. ‘Surprise!’
‘Indeed, it is a surprise. I thought you were busy this weekend.’ Kate kissed him back. Chris lived and worked in London as a management consultant and they didn’t get to spend a lot of time together. Kate had lived down there with him, and worked at the British Museum for a while, but she’d never really settled into the City life at all. Then the job at Hartsford came up, and they’d made the decision that she should go for it, and see how it went. It had been successful so far – she enjoyed Suffolk, and Chris, apparently, enjoyed devoting more of his time to work. He’d never complained too much about her not being there. The long-distance thing seemed to be working, and they had more or less settled into a routine – of sorts, anyway.
Occasionally, he made noises about a virtual world and how you could work anywhere and how it might be interesting to branch out into Suffolk – but the noises never seemed to come to anything more. There was always a new contract to work on, or a different customer to please. Kate had begun to doubt it would ever happen.
‘I put my bags upstairs. That’s fine, right?’ He smiled at her, knowing she’d never normally object to that. He had a key after all and it made sense.
‘Yes, no problem all.’ Kate smiled back. ‘It’s good to see you.’
‘And you. Dinner tonight at the Green Dragon?’
‘Don’t see why not.’
‘The Green Dragon’s for old people,’ interjected Jenna. ‘I think you’d be better off at the wine bar, to be honest.’ She was, Kate noticed, addressing Chris, not Kate.
‘Ah, Kate likes the Dragon.’ Chris shrugged apologetically. ‘Says the meals are nicer.’
‘Yes. Yes, I do,’ Kate said. ‘And it’s not a meat market, which is why I happen to like it.’ She couldn’t quite believe she’d said that – but she was right. People like Jenna went to the wine bar. People like Kate went to the Green Dragon. Did that make her old? She was twenty-eight, which was hardly ancient.
‘Have it your way,’ said Jenna with a shrug. She stood up and stretched. ‘Well, that’s me done for the day then. My lunchtime cover has covered. I’ll be off now. And,’ she turned to Chris again, ‘I’ll be at the wine bar later. Guaranteed.’
‘We’ll be at the Dragon,’ Kate confirmed. ‘Because we’re old. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jenna.’
‘Yeah. Tomorrow. TTFN.’ She wandered out and Kate felt the atmosphere lift.
‘Thank God for that,’ she muttered and slid into her place behind the desk. ‘She’s too much at times.’
‘Ah, she’s fun,’ said Chris with a smile at her retreating back. ‘Not to worry. Anyway, I hope I’m not interrupting anything this weekend by coming up?’
‘No, I have nothing planned but work. Did you see the bicycle outside? I was going to do something with that. Cassie wants it for an event she’s doing up at the Hall, but it needs some TLC first.’
‘A bicycle? No, I didn’t notice. Sorry.’ Chris smiled his half-lazy, half-arrogant smile, and leaned against the edge of the reception desk, his hands in his pockets, his legs crossed at the ankles. ‘God, I need a break after this week. I have to tell you about this client …’
Chris clearly had a gem that he wanted to share with her, but as his professional life was a world away from Kate’s and Kate was anxious to get to the bicycle, her attention started to wander a little. Her eyes drifted towards the door and she wasn’t proud of that fact; but she really, really wanted to start on that bike.
‘… so like I said to him, it was never going to happen.’ Chris was still talking. ‘In fact, I just need to check the emails to see what they said about it. I’m pretty certain the figures they quoted were wrong. Forgive me, Kate?’
He pulled his mobile out and started messing with it.
‘No worries; take your time. Give me a shout when you’re sorted. I just need to look at that bike, okay?’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ Chris’s attention was taken by something on the screen, his brows knitted together over his sharp, grey eyes. ‘You sort the bike out. I just need to …’ He was lost to her.
Kate sloped out, sneakily happy that she could check the old bike. It really was in a sorry state.
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