Shadows of Conflict

by Jennifer Bohnet

  SHADOWS OF CONFLICT

  Jennifer Bohnet

  ‘… This was a people’s war,

  And everyone was in it.’

  COLONEL OVETA CULP HOBBY

  Contents

  Title Page

  Epigraph

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  By the Same Author

  Copyright

  ONE

  ‘Take over your shop?’ Katie Teague said, looking at her godmother, Mattie. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Never more so. Shop needs dragging into the twenty-first century,’ Mattie said. ‘I don’t have the energy any more.’ Or the inclination, she could have added, but didn’t.

  ‘You’re not ill?’ Katie glanced at her sharply. Mattie didn’t look ill but some people still looked in the best of health when they died, didn’t they?

  ‘Not ill – just tired. The shop needs a young person’s input. You need a job, don’t you? I promise not to interfere and I’ll give you a completely free hand to do what you want.’ Mattie replaced her tea cup on the saucer.

  ‘In fact I shall take my first ever summer holiday this year if you take over. More cream with that scone?’

  The two of them were sitting in Mattie’s secluded garden overlooking the River Dart and enjoying the usual spread of food that Mattie considered essential for a proper Sunday afternoon tea: scones, Devonshire splits, clotted cream and her home-made strawberry jam. Bert, her Labradoodle, sat at their feet, ready to guzzle up any stray crumb that might come his way.

  ‘Oh, Mattie,’ Katie said. ‘I don’t know. I was planning on a couple of weeks’ holiday before sending off more job applications. Can’t say I’d even considered coming back here to live permanently.’

  ‘Well, think about it now. Give yourself a year to get A Good Yarn back into shape and then we’ll decide whether you take it on permanently – or whether we sell up and split the profits.’

  ‘Isn’t there anyone else willing to give you a hand?’ Katie asked.

  ‘There’s only Leo and somehow I don’t see him running the place.’

  Katie smiled at the thought of Leo Cranford, Mattie’s nephew and her teenage sparring partner, working in the wool shop. It would simply never happen.

  Mattie stood up.

  ‘I’ll fetch another pot of tea while you decide.’

  ‘No pressure then,’ Katie said.

  ‘Of course not. But the holiday season is only weeks away. Be good to have things organized by then.’

  Waiting for the kettle to boil, Mattie stood by the kitchen window deep in thought, praying that Katie would take on the shop. Watching her now in the garden, Mattie crossed her fingers and willed Katie to make the decision she wanted her to make.

  Left on her own, Katie wandered along the garden path, Bert at her heels. From the vantage point by the wall at the top of the garden, she had a good view of the activity on the river. The Lower Ferry making its way across the river, the tourist boats returning from Totnes, the marinas packed to capacity with boats. It was all achingly familiar – and yet so different from when she was growing up down here.

  Then there had only been the one marina up by the shipyard and a couple of pontoons moored mid-river downstream by the Higher Ferry, from where her uncle Frank had run his boat charters. These days the harbour master had his hands full controlling the coming’s and goings of leisure boats of all sizes from the several marinas now lining the banks of the river.

  There was so much more going on in the town these days too. It was no longer the sleepy riverside town she’d been determined to escape from as a teenager and find life. In the last few years life itself had arrived down here while she’d been busy pursuing a career up in Bristol – a career that had been jettisoned by her recent redundancy.

  She still felt numb when she remembered her last afternoon in the office. Hugo had called a midday meeting and without warning told three of them their contracts were being terminated with immediate effect. He’d handed them all envelopes with their final payments and a reference, together with the instruction to clear their desks.

  Patrick, standing at Hugo’s side, had avoided her gaze. It wasn’t until Hugo had left and Katie was bemusedly packing her things into a box that he came into her office.

  ‘You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you? Why didn’t you warn me? You’re my boyfriend, for God’s sake.’ She threw an out-of-date copy of Campaign into the wastepaper basket. ‘You’re not going to tell me you didn’t know? You practically run this place for Hugo.’

  Patrick shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Katie. I honestly didn’t know until this morning that you were included. Besides, how could I say anything to Hugo without him guessing that you and I are more than colleagues? He’d have sacked you then anyway. You know what the rules about office romances are.’

  ‘He might have sacked you, not me!’ Katie retorted, knowing full well that that would never have happened. Patrick was too big a part of the agency. His contacts book was full of names and telephone numbers of all the big hitters in the industry. Patrick knew the people who really mattered.

  Keeping their affair a secret for the past six months had been romantic at first but lately Katie had begun to suspect that Patrick was perhaps using the ‘no couples in the office’ rule as an excuse for them not moving in together. Maybe Hugo did know about them and that’s why he hadn’t told Patrick his plan to include her in his redundancies?

  As if sensing her thoughts, Patrick put his arms around her. ‘There will be benefits about not working here. We can ‘come out’ now about you and me, when you’re working in another office.’

  ‘If I can find another job,’ Katie said. ‘You know what the work situation is like down here. The last thing I want to do is move to London.’ Big cities were not her scene. Bristol was large enough for her any day.

  ‘Something will turn up. I’ll put some feelers out, see what I can find. Come on, cheer up, Katie, it’s not the end of the world. You’ve got a good redundancy package there.’

  ‘But I want a job. I like being a film production manager.’

  ‘You’ll get one soon enough. Trust me,’ Patrick had said. He had then helped her carry the box to her car. And so the last five years of her working life had ended.

  That was two weeks ago and neither she nor Patrick had managed to uncover any likely jobs – which was why she’d decided to visit Mattie and have a short holiday. Since her parents had retired to Spain seven years ago her visits home had dwindled down to one or two a year, a fact which she felt increasingly guilty over as she knew Mattie missed her visits.

  The idea of taking over A Good Yarn did have a certain appeal. She could regard it as a career break, something different to recharge the batteries. She could always go back to town if it didn’t work out. Other people had career breaks, so why not her? Where would she live, though?

  ‘Oh, what to do, Bert?’ She stroked the dog as his black nose nudged her hand for attention. ‘Shall I come back and take on Mattie’s shop? Or shall I stay in Bristol and try going freelance until something permanent turns up?
’

  Mattie returned with the tea and a large key which she pushed across the table to Katie.

  ‘Here,’ she said. ‘Take this and go have a look later.’

  Katie picked up the key thoughtfully. ‘What will you do if I don’t take on the shop?’

  ‘Run it right down over the summer and have a closing down sale at Christmas. Maybe see if the developers renovating the place next door are still interested.’ Mattie shrugged. ‘I’ve got another year to keep it out of the hands of the Blackawton cousins. Ron keeps harping on about getting his rights from the old war time family agreement.’

  Katie looked at her. ‘Ron? Family agreement?’

  ‘Too long a story to go into now but I do know I’ll be wracked with guilt if I do close mother’s business after all these years even though it was always meant to be Clara’s not mine. I never wanted it in the first place.’

  ‘I thought you loved the shop, enjoyed working there. You’re always knitting.’ Strange, Katie thought, how mistaken you could be about people close to you.

  ‘I didn’t have a choice after the war and Clara was dead. Mother needed me. So here I stayed, knitting pins in hand,’ Mattie said.

  Katie remembered being scared of old Ma Cranford as a child. Secretly, she and Lara had nicknamed her the Witch and stayed as far away from her as possible. She could well understand a young Mattie all those years ago being made to toe the dutiful daughter line with no argument allowed.

  ‘Don’t go thinking it was all bad,’ Mattie said. ‘I enjoyed being in charge once Mother had died and I was running the business my way. But these days there are so many new rules and regulations. I guess, too, I’m not businesslike enough.’

  Mattie glanced at Katie. ‘Remember how you enjoyed being my Saturday girl for years. Lara too, before she got bitten by the sailing bug. Does she know you’re redundant and down for a visit?’

  ‘Had lunch with her last week,’ Katie said. ‘Dexter was away at a farming conference so we had a girly day. They’ll be down in the summer so you’ll see them then.’

  Mattie laughed as she stood up and began to collect the tea things. ‘I’ll never forget those fluorescent stripy socks you both knitted one winter – orange and green. Your teachers were less than impressed when you wore them to school though!’

  ‘I’d forgotten those,’ Katie said. ‘I did a lot of knitting and sewing in those days, didn’t I?’

  ‘Yes and that’s why you’re perfect to take on A Good Yarn. You know how to do things.’

  ‘Oh, Mattie, just because I can turn the heel of a sock, doesn’t mean I can run a wool shop,’ Katie said, laughing. Or even if I want to, she refrained from adding.

  Half an hour later Katie walked down through the narrow streets towards the river and Mattie’s shop. A few people were wandering around enjoying the early evening sunshine. Negotiating the granite steps between Newcomen Road and Lower Street, Katie turned towards Bayards Cove.

  Minutes later she was outside A Good Yarn, pushing the key into the lock. Once inside she instinctively reached for the light switch on the right-hand wall and pushed the door closed behind with her foot.

  Shelves of wool nestled alongside boxes of buttons, stands of tapestry kits, embroidery silks, zips of all lengths, knitting needles, knitting patterns, crochet hooks, elastic, cottons, even a bale or two of material lurked, hidden, on a high shelf. As a wool and haberdashery shop, A Good Yarn was definitely stuck in the wrong century. Even as a Saturday girl years ago Katie had known that the shop was decidedly old-fashioned and Mattie hadn’t done much, if anything, in the last few years to modernize it in any way.

  If you believed the gossip in the magazines, knitting was all the rage these days with celebs proudly clicking their needles all over the place and rushing to join Stitch and Bitch clubs. Could she start a local version? Katie fingered a ball of white angora wool abandoned on a shelf. If she did take on the shop, she’d have to come up with something to grab people’s interest.

  Katie opened the door to the back stockroom. Rows of empty shelves showed that Mattie had been running stock down for some time. Would it be possible to turn it into a Stitch and Bitch club room? Keep the stock to a minimum? It was a large enough room.

  Closing the door she climbed the narrow twisting stairs up to the first floor with its two empty rooms and an old-fashioned bathroom. She’d forgotten about these rooms. A possible kitchen and bedroom? Could she possibly live over the shop?

  The attic that spanned the width of the building gave her the answer. The large room with its dormer windows looking out towards the two castles at the mouth of the river was dusty and empty save for a few old, battered cardboard boxes. In her mind’s eye it was instantly transformed into a delightful sitting-room with comfy settees and chairs, bookshelves holding her books and CDs. Yes, she could definitely live up here.

  Deep in thought, Katie made her way back downstairs. Taking over the shop would certainly solve her immediate problem of finding a job. It would help Mattie too. It could be fun to spend a summer down here; revisit some of her old haunts. She could—

  Katie screamed as a pair of burly arms wrapped around her and held her tight.

  ‘Got you. What the hell do you think you’re up to?’

  Relief flooded through Katie’s body as she recognized the voice.

  ‘Leo Cranford! Let me go. It’s Katie.’

  ‘Tiggy?’

  If there had been any doubt in Katie’s mind that her captor was Leo Cranford, his use of her childish nickname was enough to dispel it.

  ‘I’ve told you – don’t call me that. You know I hate it. Now let me GO.’ Sharply jarring her elbows back into Leo’s body she twisted herself out of his grip.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded, staring at her as she rubbed her arms where he’d gripped them.

  ‘Never mind what I’m doing. What the hell are you playing at? Frightening me like that.’

  ‘I saw the lights downstairs, and thought someone had broken in. You’re lucky I didn’t call the police.’

  Deciding her best policy was to say nothing, Katie glared at him. Leo had had quite a short temper in the past.

  ‘So, what exactly are you doing in Mattie’s shop?’

  ‘Working out whether it’s a feasible business proposition.’

  ‘For Mattie?’

  ‘For me,’ Katie said.

  ‘You’re coming back? Giving up all things meedja?’

  Katie tried not to smile at Leo’s deliberate usual mispronunciation of media. ‘Yes.’

  ‘But you couldn’t wait to get away. Said nothing would ever drag you back down here.’

  ‘A girl can change her mind, can’t she?’

  Leo regarded her thoughtfully for several seconds before holding out his hand. ‘In that case – welcome home.’

  Leo’s farm work-hardened hand all but crushed her fingers as he took her hand in his. The final decision to return seemed to have been made the moment Leo asked if she was giving up all things media.

  Leo walked back to Mattie’s with Katie and gave in easily to his aunt’s, ‘You’ll stay for supper, won’t you? Help me persuade Katie to take on A Good Yarn.’

  ‘No persuading necessary – I’ve decided I’ll do it,’ Katie said. ‘Though heaven knows what I’m letting myself in for. I do have a few ideas for attracting customers but really, I know nothing about running a shop.’

  ‘Oh, you’ll soon get the hang of it,’ Mattie said. ‘I’ll still be around to help out a bit.’

  ‘Good. We’ll work out a plan of action,’ Katie said.

  ‘After supper we’ll have a brainstorming session,’ Mattie said. ‘Leo can give us a man’s point of view.’

  ‘Mmm,’ Katie said. Remembering Leo’s teenage skull and cross bones decorating phase she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to hear Leo’s views. ‘First thing is to get the place spruced up. Lots of white paint everywhere, I think. Open plan space. New shelving units. We’ll need to ma
ke the flat habitable too. I can’t stay here with you forever,’ she said quickly as she saw Mattie about to protest.

  ‘I suppose not. But at least for the first couple of months,’ Mattie said. ‘If I go on the Mediterranean cruise I’ve dreamed of for years, it’d be good to have you here to look after Bert. Can’t put him in kennels.’

  ‘Think I’d better go home tomorrow,’ Katie said. ‘Get things organized up there. Hand the flat keys over to the agency. Say goodbye to friends.’

  ‘Any friend in particular?’ Leo asked.

  ‘Mainly Lara and Patrick,’ Katie said. How Patrick would react to her plans would be interesting. Hopefully he would be pleased for her. Before Leo could start asking questions about who Patrick was, Katie added: ‘There’s also a couple of factory outlets up there I’d like to take a look at – see if I can get some ideas for stock. I’ll drive back down next Sunday, if that’s OK with you,’ she said, looking at Mattie.

  ‘In time for tea would be good,’ Mattie said.

  ‘OK. But go easy on the clotted cream. Eat too many of your famous teas and I’ll end up getting fat.’

  ‘You, fat? Rubbish,’ Leo said. ‘Anyway, you could do with a bit more meat on you. You’re a bit too skinny for me.’

  ‘Oh really,’ Katie said. ‘Then it’s just as well I’m nothing to do with you, isn’t it?’

  Mattie laughed. ‘Listen to you two. Just like old times already. Oh, it’s going to be great fun having the pair of you together again.’

  After waving Katie off Monday morning, Mattie made her way down to the shop. Last night the three of them had decided she would put a notice on the door, informing everyone that the shop was closing for a short time and would re-open under new management at the end of the month. Leo had said he’d meet her down there and they would start to plan how to give the place a modern-day makeover.

  Mattie looked around the shop where she’d spent so much of her life. Was she doing the right thing handing the place over to Katie? The war and Clara’s death had meant she’d had no choice over accepting her own unwanted legacy. Forcing Katie to follow in her footsteps down a road in life she wasn’t enthusiastic about – well, she simply couldn’t do it. But Katie hadn’t rejected the idea outright, had she?