The Pet Shop at Pennycombe Bay

by Sheila Norton

  ‘How about we stop at Stony Cove and say hello to Kevin and Dan?’ I suggested to Pru.

  Good idea. I’d rather have a run on the beach, but as I’ve got this poor paw …

  ‘Yes, I know you want some more sympathy – poor Prudence!’ I smiled at her as, having parked outside the beach café, I helped her out of the car and watched her limp along beside me in her red canvas boot.

  ‘Hello sweetie!’ Kevin, coming round from behind the counter as soon as he saw us appearing through the door, was beaming all over his well-tanned face. ‘How lovely to see you!’

  He opened his arms and gave me a hug.

  ‘Congratulations! How did the big day go?’ I asked. He and Dan had only arrived back from their Australian honeymoon a couple of days earlier. ‘The photos on Facebook were fabulous.’

  ‘It was amazing, Jess. Dan had everything planned, right down to the minutest detail. Fabulous hotel, fabulous setting right on the most beautiful beach in the world. I couldn’t believe our families were in on it all – even my sister, the naughty girl! – pretending to feel sorry for me when I went running to her in my anguish, can you imagine? They were all there. It was …’ He blinked, and for a moment I thought he was about to cry with emotion. ‘It was like all my dreams come true, Jess. The most perfect day of my life.’

  I just had to hug him again. I was so happy for him.

  ‘So where is this husband of yours?’

  ‘He’s gone off to the wholesalers. He’ll be so sorry to have missed you. But we’ll see you on the first Saturday of February, if not before, won’t we.’

  I frowned. ‘Why? What’s happening then?’

  ‘Oh my God!’ he flung his hand to his head theatrically. ‘Haven’t you got our invitation yet? What’s wrong with the post around here? We’re having a party, obviously. We couldn’t get married without having a celebration with all our friends here in Pennycombe Bay, could we?’

  ‘That’s a lovely idea, Kevin. And yes, of course I’ll be there. Where’s it going to be held?’

  He gave me a look of mock disapproval. ‘Where do you think? Here, obviously! At the café! Dan’s going to put fairy lights up and if it’s not raining we can dance on the beach at midnight.’

  I laughed. ‘Very nice. Check the tide table first, though, won’t you?’

  I drove home to have lunch before our school visit, feeling happy and wistful at the same time. It was so good to know Kevin and Dan were now settled and contented together. It was lovely, too, that Ruth’s relationship with Ollie seemed to be progressing so well. It was nice to be able to share in all their happiness. But – I had to keep reminding myself – I was perfectly fine on my own. Not everyone wanted to be part of a couple. It wasn’t obligatory, and I only had to look around me at all the unhappy relationships to realise a lot of people might envy me my single status.

  I was looking forward to seeing all the children at the primary school that afternoon as usual. Because I normally gave Pru a good run before our visit, she was usually quite happy to settle down on the cushions, watching the kids lazily with one eye open while they read her their stories. But because she wasn’t getting her usual exercise, I worried a little that she might fidget today. I held her collar, patting her and talking to her gently, encouraging her to lie down. When the group from Daffodil class were brought in, I looked in vain for Jacob. Not wishing to appear to have a favourite, I said casually to Mrs Armstrong: ‘There’s one missing, isn’t there?’

  ‘Yes: Jacob Sanders. Apparently the family’s moving today.’

  Moving? Stunned, I sat back, my hand on Pru’s flank, my mind in a whirl. Tom hadn’t mentioned that they were moving when I saw him at the vet’s! In fact, hadn’t he said he’d see me in the shop in a few days’ time? I wanted to ask Mrs Armstrong more questions, but I knew she shouldn’t be talking to me about the pupils’ home lives; and anyway, I reminded myself, it was absolutely none of my business. Quickly I tried to pull myself together, to concentrate on the children’s stories and on making sure Prudence stayed settled.

  ‘Good girl, Pru,’ I murmured, as the little girl who’d been reading finished her story and came up to have her promised treat of stroking her. Prudence lay quietly, enjoying the attention. If she’d been a cat she’d have been purring. I forced a smile back on my face for the benefit of the next child, whose little face was already turning pink with the effort of managing to sound out the phonics of his story’s title.

  Perhaps it would be a good thing, I told myself, if Tom and his family were moving away. I didn’t need the stress and complication of … perhaps I could be honest about it now? … liking someone so much, when they already belonged to someone else. I repeated my new mantra, over and over inside my head, while I listened to the children: I’m happy being single; happy being single; happy being single. The more I said it, the more I’d be convinced it was true.

  CHAPTER 32

  I was now more determined than ever to throw myself wholeheartedly into the running of the pet shop. If I was going to make this business my life’s work, there was more I’d like to do, and Jim had pretty much given me the green light to make whatever changes I wanted to. I couldn’t stop thinking that the little shop could become far more than just somewhere people bought their pet supplies. It already served as a friendly place where the town’s animal lovers could pause for a chat, and I felt sure I could somehow build on this. I wanted to put more information leaflets on display: helpful things for pet owners that I could perhaps get from the vet’s, as well as leaflets about PAT. If I could just work out how to make more space, I’d have liked to have a separate area of the shop, furnished with comfy chairs and a low table where I could spread out these things, and where I could serve the tea and coffee that I would still have liked to introduce.

  Thinking about all this, I arrived at the shop that Thursday morning to find a van parked outside the shop next door, a ladder propped up on the pavement and someone up the ladder putting up a new sign that read: POP-INN CAFÉ. I stood still in the street, staring. So it was going to be a café! Well, that put paid to my silly idea about serving refreshments. I’d have too much competition. And what a pathetic name for a café, I thought irritably. Through the windows I could see that the old shop fittings had already been ripped out and there were several people inside, painting the walls and laying down new flooring. During the day I kept an eye on the street outside, and noticed, among the various comings and goings next door, some chairs and tables being delivered, and later, several large crates, which I supposed contained catering utensils. More vans arrived in the afternoon, and eventually I got bored of watching. Well, if I couldn’t have a tea-and-coffee area, I thought to myself crossly, perhaps I could at least have a cosy corner where our customers could chat and share pet news and anecdotes. But no matter how many times I drew up a plan of the shop floor area, I couldn’t see how to squeeze in a couple of comfy chairs without sacrificing some of the shelving. Oh well – another idea that wasn’t going to come to anything!

  Ruth brought Ollie home with her that evening; they were making dinner together and he was staying overnight. This was happening more often now, and they were always lovely about including me, never making me feel – as I had when she was dating Nick – that I had to hide myself away in another room. They were already very much a couple; Ollie kept a toothbrush and a few spare clothes in the house; a pair of walking boots and a warm hat, for their new hobby of hiking the coastal path – and there was a strange aura of maleness around the place. Prudence loved it when he was there. He made a real fuss of her, explaining that he was a dog lover himself and really missed his ageing labradoodle, Sonny, who he’d left with his parents in Birmingham when he moved down to Exeter. To my amazement, that evening as we chatted over the washing-up, he let slip that when he and Ruth moved in together, they’d already decided they were going to get a dog.

  ‘Really?’ I was more shocked by the idea of Ruth wanting a dog than I was by the talk of
moving in together, which frankly wasn’t much of a surprise, although it did make me wonder what it would mean for me, in terms of where I was going to live. I glanced at my cousin. ‘At one time, I’d never have thought of you as a dog lover.’

  ‘I know.’ She gave me an apologetic smile. ‘I used to be such a bitch about poor Prudence, didn’t I, when I was drinking. And the way I tried to worm myself into that awful Nick’s affections by pretending to like his dog – well, honestly, when I look back now, I cringe at the way I behaved.’

  ‘You don’t have anything to reproach yourself for, there!’ I retorted. ‘He was a nasty piece of work anyway.’

  ‘I could have sworn, at the time, that you quite liked him,’ she mused, looking at me thoughtfully. ‘But I was obviously just being paranoid, as usual. God, I can’t imagine how you put up with me back then.’

  I laughed. ‘Well, you’re certainly much nicer these days, to Pru as well as me.’

  ‘Pru’s a lovely girl. I was just so mixed up that everyone and everything used to annoy me. But you know, I always used to like animals, when I was younger. Now, I really love the idea of having a dog, when Ollie and I are living together.’

  She sounded so full of excitement and hope for the future that I had to blink and turn away. I was so glad for them both. They deserved their happiness, their plans, the excitement of their future lives. It certainly wasn’t the moment to raise the issue of when this was likely to happen, and whether I’d have to find a new home for myself. It was probably about time I learnt to stand on my own feet anyway, I thought grimly. I was earning more money now. I was more than just a shop assistant; more than the family charity case who needed to be looked after. I straightened my shoulders and turned back to the dirty dishes. Time to grow up – and about time too.

  I was getting ready for bed when my phone suddenly bleeped with a message. Unknown number. Frowning, I opened the message and my eyes widened in surprise. Liz’s number had, of course, been in my Favourites list at one time, but I’d long ago deleted it in frustration and disappointment, so I hadn’t recognised it until I started to read:

  Hi Jess. You said to give you a call when I came out of hospital but I’m still not sure if you meant it. I can’t believe you would want to hear from me or to talk to me. But equally, I don’t want you to think I would ignore you again, ever. I regret, so much, doing that before. I regret losing touch with you more than you can imagine, more than any of my other regrets, and there are a lot of them. If you’d like to talk, if you’d even like to meet up, it would make me so happy. But if you decide not to respond to this message I will completely understand. Your sad, sorry friend, Liz. x

  I didn’t even stop to think. Taking a deep breath, and swallowing back my emotions, I tapped out a reply straight away:

  Liz, I would love to meet up and talk some more. Would you prefer I come to you? Tell me when would be best. I hope you’re recovering – Jess x x

  Her reply came immediately, and made me feel even more emotional:

  Recovering physically, thank you. Mentally, I’ve been warned it could take a long time. But I’m free. Ready to start again. So happy you want to meet. Yes, please come to me; I’m still at the same house – for now. Sunday afternoon? x x

  Arrangements made, I went to bed and dreamed that we were working together again, back at the hotel. I wouldn’t actually have wanted to go back there now, but they were good days, I realised with a start of surprise when I woke up. It had been good, then, to have Liz as a friend. Was it too late to forge that friendship all over again? Had too much happened, or could I find it in me to move on, despite how much she’d hurt me? Perhaps Sunday would decide that, one way or the other.

  The work and the comings and goings at Mr Patel’s old shop continued all through the next couple of days. I was busy myself with customers on the Saturday, and beginning to wonder if, when the quiet season ended, I’d need to ask Jim about the possibility of hiring a part-time assistant. I’d always suspected he’d taken me on partly out of sympathy, because he’d previously run the shop on his own. But now I realised he’d been thinking about his retirement even then, and presumably hoping I’d like the business enough to eventually take over running it. Most of the time, it could be managed without help, but on busy Saturdays, especially during the holiday season, I could envisage having a struggle to cope on my own. Just as I was thinking about this, the doorbell chimed again and I looked up, thinking again about the number of customers I’d had that day … and it was Tom.

  ‘Oh!’ I said, my heart immediately beginning to thump uncomfortably. He was much more casually dressed than usual, in old jeans and a thick jumper that made him look … kind of cute and cuddly. Stop it, Jess! I commanded myself crossly. ‘Oh, I … I thought you’d moved!’

  ‘Moved?’ he queried, stopping halfway to the counter, looking at me in surprise. ‘Not unless you count moving next door! Who said I’d moved?’

  ‘Mrs Armstrong, at the school. She said that was why Jacob wasn’t at school,’ I stuttered, staring back at him. ‘What do you mean, moving next door?’

  ‘I think Mrs Armstrong must have got the wrong end of the stick!’ he said cheerfully. ‘Jacob was off sick on Wednesday. Just a bad cold. But perhaps I mentioned about moving in next door, or maybe Jacob did, and she maybe thought—’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I said again. I heard my voice rising to a kind of demented squeak. ‘Next door? What – the shop? Patel’s?’ He might as well have been speaking Japanese for all the sense I could make of it.

  ‘Yes, of course.’ He frowned. ‘You did know, didn’t you? I said I’d pop in and see you once we’d moved in.’

  ‘No, you didn’t!’ I said, still in my accusing, squeaking voice. ‘You just said you’d call in – for cat food, I presumed. What are you talking about, moving in?’

  ‘Jess, I’m sure I told you!’ His smile dropped. ‘Oh, God: I didn’t? I can’t believe that. Everything’s been so hectic … I was so sure we’d had the conversation about it … I must have dreamed it. Along with all the other dreams …’ He tailed off, looking at me helplessly. ‘What can I say? I’m so sorry. I don’t even know if you’re pleased to have me as a neighbour.’

  ‘I can’t get my head around what you’re saying,’ I said, shaking my head as if that was going to help. ‘You’re telling me you’re taking over Patel’s – I thought it was going to be a café? And what’s all this about dreams?’

  ‘Forget the dreams bit,’ he said, looking even more awkward now. ‘I was just thinking aloud.’ He came over and collapsed into the chair next to the counter. ‘It is going to be a café, Jess. My café.’

  ‘Since when did you own a café?’ I stopped and looked down, suddenly aware, again, of how little I’d found out about him. I’d been too busy trying to stop myself liking him, stop myself making a fool of myself over him, to indulge in asking personal questions. ‘Sorry, I’ve never even asked what you do for a living,’ I admitted. ‘You told me once that you used to work in marketing, but you couldn’t keep up the long hours, after … you were on your own with Jacob.’

  ‘That’s right,’ he said quietly. ‘But don’t apologise: why should you be interested?’ He gave me a sad little smile before shrugging and going on: ‘I own the café in Dunniford – with Rhianna, my partner. We wanted a new place, and—’

  ‘Hang on. You and Rhianna are business partners?’ I squawked. Were the surprises ever going to end? ‘So … do you mean … are you just business partners?’

  ‘Of course!’ He blinked at me. ‘What did you think? That we were together?’ He threw his head back, laughing out loud. ‘Oh, Jess, I’m sorry, but you can’t imagine how funny that is! Don’t get me wrong, we work really well together. We’re old friends, and she’s been a great help and support to me and Jacob since my wife died. Jacob thinks of her as his auntie. But no, we’d probably kill each other if we had to live together! We’re too different. Quite apart from the fact that Rhianna’s married t
o a bodybuilder called Greg who would literally kill me if he thought there was anything funny going on between us. They’re madly in love and planning to start a family.’

  ‘Oh!’ was all I could think of saying. ‘Sorry. I … suppose I got the wrong idea.’ I swallowed, wishing I could sit down myself. Or preferably sink through the floorboards. ‘So … you and Rhianna … run a café together?’

  ‘The Pop-Inn at Dunniford,’ he said, referring to a little town with a castle a few miles inland from Pennycombe Bay. So that explained the name. I suppose they wanted next door to be a sister café to their first one. ‘It’s in a nice position, but it only really pays for itself in the high season. So we’ve decided to expand, and hopefully build the business this way. Rhianna’s going to run the Dunniford place – she lives near there. And I’ve always wanted to have a place here in Pennycombe Bay, so I’m going to run this one, with a couple of assistants of course. I’ve already hired a young lad who’s really keen. If he’s good, he’ll be well trained up by the time we get busy. When Patel’s became vacant, I just knew it was the right place; the nearest competition is that café right back in the precinct.’ He shrugged. ‘I hope we’ll do OK, anyway.’

  ‘Oh, so do I,’ I said, all my previous disenchantment with the development next door immediately washed away. ‘I’m so glad it’s you … I mean,’ I added, flustered, ‘I’m glad it’s someone I know; I wasn’t sure what to expect when Mr Patel moved out.’