Chapter 37
‘The vineyard?’ Bea said, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. ‘I don’t get it,’ she continued, unfastening her seatbelt and getting out of the car.
‘All in good time,’ Nathan smirked, opening the door to the barn and nodding hello to Phoebe, who was waiting inside.
‘Hey, Phoebe! How are you?’ said Bea, giving her a hug.
‘Good, thanks, you?’ asked Phoebe.
‘You know, coping, but I’m a little confused as to why Nathan’s brought me here and what it’s got to do with the bookshop?’ said Bea, turning back towards Nathan.
‘Ah, he hasn’t told you then?’ asked Phoebe.
‘Told me what?’ Bea said, flicking her gaze between them both.
‘I thought we should wait until we got here,’ Nathan explained.
‘Will someone please tell me what’s going on?’ said Bea.
‘Well, hopefully this should help make things clearer,’ said Phoebe, opening the door for Bea to follow her inside the barn.
‘Okay…’ Bea said, looking around at the display of wines, cheeses and books, expertly decorated with fresh flowers and fairy lights, it looked… beautiful.
‘Go pretty well together, don’t they?’ said Nathan.
‘This looks wonderful, but I’m still not sure I understand…’ said Bea, trying to put the puzzle together.
‘Well, Book Club was such a success, it got us thinking,’ said Phoebe.
‘Remember when I was chatting to Cece at the awards? And she said a farm shop would be a great place for me to sell my cheeses?’ said Nathan.
‘Yeah,’ said Bea.
‘And I’ve got a similar issue here; it’s a trek for people to come and buy from us direct,’ said Phoebe. ‘So—’
‘What if Bea’s Bookshop wasn’t just a bookshop, but we sold cheese and wine, too? cried Bea, realization dawning.
‘Bingo!’ said Nathan, grinning widely.
‘That’s genius! We could pair wines with books, you know, like you do with food? This steamy romance goes perfectly with a full-bodied red—’ said Bea.
‘And a crisp white sauvignon with a thriller!’ added Phoebe.
‘But,’ said Bea, her face falling a little. ‘I didn’t get the lease on the shop, remember?’
‘Correction,’ said Nathan. ‘You don’t have the lease on the shop yet.’
‘I’ll do my best to win Mr Pritchard over, but he was pretty keen on selling to EliteHaven when I saw him. I’ve got more money now, but that might not change anything,’ said Bea.
‘It’s got to be worth a try?’ said Phoebe. ‘And Nathan and I can help with the deposit, seeing as we’ll be selling our stock too, that way you can make Pritchard an even more compelling offer.’
‘Definitely!’ Bea agreed. ‘Are you both sure you want to do this, though? It’s a big step.’
‘Yes!’ they chorused.
‘And remember, Pritchard isn’t flavour of the month, thanks to Violet, so that might help,’ said Phoebe.
‘Speak of the devil,’ said Bea, showing them a message from Violet which read: Beatrice, can you meet me at Primrose Cottage urgently? I’ve got news I think you’ll want to hear.
‘I wonder what that’s about?’ asked Phoebe.
‘I guess there’s only one way to find out. Nate, can you drop me back there?’ Bea asked.
Bea tapped the heavy, brass door-knocker twice and Violet opened the door almost immediately, as though she had been stood behind it waiting for Bea to arrive.
‘Bea,’ said Violet with a nod, ‘thanks for getting here so quickly. Come through.’
‘Thank you,’ said Bea, bending down to pat the little pug excitedly bouncing around at her heels.
‘Rolo, do calm down,’ said Violet, grabbing his collar and shoving him out of the way.
‘Oh, it’s fine, he’s a sweetheart,’ said Bea, taking a seat in an armchair in the lounge. ‘You said you had some news?’
‘Yes, well,’ Violet started, clapping her hands together.
‘As you know, all of us at the parish council were horrified by Malcolm’s plans to sell the Pink Ribbon building to a developer.
It’s made him very unpopular. Flats on the green!
Can you imagine? His wife is mortified; she’s a member of the WI and she’s disgusted by the whole thing. ’
‘That’s kind of her,’ said Bea. It wouldn’t make any difference, but she was grateful to hear that the little community supported her.
‘EliteHaven Homes has made an approach to the council and they have been told, unofficially, of course, that gaining planning permission to develop the site would be difficult, very difficult indeed,’ Violet explained.
‘So, have they withdrawn their offer?’ Bea asked, hopefully.
‘I’m afraid not,’ said Violet. ‘However…’
However sounded promising.
‘I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr Pritchard was having a change of heart,’ Violet continued. ‘I think if you made another approach and upped the rent, what with the money from that Agatha Christie book you found—’
‘You know about that?’ Bea blinked
‘Of course I know about that,’ said Violet, rolling her eyes. ‘I know everything that goes on here.’
‘So, you think if I increase my offer, I might get the shop after all?’
‘I do. If I were you, I’d send Malcolm another email now; strike while the iron’s hot,’ Violet said, banging her hand down on the coffee table, making Bea jump.
‘Okay, on it,’ said Bea, pulling out her phone and typing furiously.
‘Now, can I interest you in a slice of lemon drizzle cake?’ asked Violet. ‘Homemade, of course,’ she added quickly. ‘It won ‘Best Sponge’ at the village fête. All this scheming gives me quite the appetite.’
‘Oh, yes, please,’ said Bea, hitting send and looking up from her phone. There, done. ‘And, me too!’