Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
W arren added a little butter and salt to the potatoes as he mashed them.
“Dinner smells amazing, as per usual,” Millie said.
“Sorry about the mess. I’ve used a lot of pots and pans for this one. It’s chicken and leek pie.”
Harry entered the kitchen during the tail end of his sentence. “I can’t wait.”
Greg was already in the dining room. He was a lot older and they didn’t see much of him. He kept himself to himself and often went to bed after the meal as he rose early. They carried the food in and were soon sitting and eating. They enjoyed their food in silence for a few minutes. Warren had to admit the pie was tasty and he was grateful for the ready-made pastry. It cut down on the preparation time and he didn’t have time to make puff pastry from scratch.
“Are you two coming up to the pub tonight?” he asked the students.
“I’m too whacked out, we were up at dawn,” Harry said. “We were let down by a couple of the casual workers on the veg box filling.
“I’ll have to give it a miss too,” Millie said. “I’ve got a video call with my parents at eight. They’ve been to Greece and want to tell me all about it.”
Warren looked at Greg. “I don’t suppose?”
“Mitch already tried to recruit me for the darts team,” he replied in a monotone voice. “It’s not for me.”
Warren was a bit disappointed; he would have preferred to walk in with someone. Holly and Mitch were going up but they lived closer and he didn’t want to sound like an idiot, asking them if he could go in with them. Still, they said everyone was friendly. He would arrive a little behind schedule, just to make sure they were already there.
He freshened up and, not knowing what to wear, put on a black t-shirt over jeans and carried a clean black hoodie. He walked down the stairs and into the kitchen where Millie and Harry had just finished cleaning.
“Wow, you look dressed to impress!” Millie said.
“Really?”
She laughed. “I guess I’m just used to seeing you in cargos and the farm polo shirt.”
“You do look different, mate,” Harry said.
“I’ve only put on a t-shirt and jeans,” Warren said with a nervous laugh.
“You look good,” Millie said. “For an older guy!”
“I’m only twenty-eight,” Warren said with a laugh. “I’ll see you two tomorrow.”
“Looking forward to an update. We’ll come to your next game, won’t we Harry.”
“Sure,” Harry said with a yawn. “I’m going up now. Have a great night.”
Outside, Warren found it was a clear evening and quite still. He walked towards the village. The first part of the journey he took across the field towards Lovelands Nursery. He could have walked along the road but there was no footpath that way and there was always the chance he would bump into Mitch on the way if he went by their cottage. He reached the permanently open gate between the two properties and then cut through Lovelands’ car park and whilst he spotted the cottage, there was no sign of Mitch. He reached the pedestrian entrance which brought him out on the path towards the village. First, he went past the quaint stone-built church which had the last remnants of blossom on a few trees. He then reached the village green. He noticed that the small grocery store was open and headed for it then went inside.
“Hello,” he said to the young woman serving and placed a pack of mints on the counter.
“I haven’t seen you before,” she said with a smile.
“I’m new to the village, I’m based at Booth Farm.”
“I’m new too,” she said. “I’ve been closing later to try to entice customers. I’m Katie.”
Warren gestured in the direction of The Eversley Arms. “I’m off to the pub.”
“On a date?”
“No, I’ve been asked to join the darts team.”
“I love darts,” she said eagerly.
Warren paid for the mints. “Nice meeting you.”
She smiled back at him and called as he left the shop. “I might pop in later.”
Warren wondered whether Katie was flirting with him. He always erred on the side of caution where women were concerned, not to assume they fancied him unless they explicitly said so. He popped a mint in his mouth as he walked past the auction house. He saw the next auction was in two week’s time. It was all a bit too middle class he thought. He felt out of place. He passed the bistro. He’d eaten mainly at cafés and not the posh type – the greasy spoon type like the one he’d lived in for a few years with Nick and Jane which had mostly been used by construction workers away from home wanting a decent home-cooked meal or a massive fry up for breakfast. He looked at the menu. Today’s Menu: Braised Lamb Shank with Rosemary and Red Wine Jus. He had to admit, the smells coming from the place were enticing. The door opened and he stepped aside, not wanting to get in the way. He realised he was delaying his entrance to the pub and took a deep breath, deciding to get his entrance over and done with. He reached the large wooden door to The Eversley Arms, which was open, and then he walked inside.
“There he is,” Mitch called from the far end of the room.
Warren was relieved that he was already there until her heard the whoops as he walked in, as if it was his birthday party.
“Here comes our star player,” a guy shouted. He had a broken nose and looked vaguely familiar to him.
There was a round of applause. Mitch approached and shook Warren’s hand then put his arm around him. “You’re a dark horse, not telling us you were good enough to play pro.”
Jaz appeared at Mitch’s side, chewing her knuckle. “Sorry, Warren. I forgot it was a secret until they all started making a fuss. Then I realised you told me not to mention it!”
Warren laughed. “No worries, but I haven’t played for years. Sorry to disappoint you guys, but I’m bound to be rusty. I don’t even have my own darts with me. They’re back in Bristol.”
“Rusty is better than Mitch,” Holly called from a nearby table with a laugh.
“I’ll get you a drink, then introduce you to the team,” Mitch said. “What are you having?”
“Any lager is fine. Thanks.” He grinned as he looked around. Everyone seemed friendly but he still wondered where he’d seen the guy with the busted nose. He was older, about late thirties, with a face that told a story of many fights. Warren followed Mitch to the bar. Maybe he’d been over to the farm.
“Simon, a Hunky Pig ale and the best lager you have on tap and a Pinot – a large one.”
Warren watched as Simon made the drinks and he and Mitch chatted like old friends. The pub did have a homely feel to it. A large guy with a red beard came from the door and looked at Mitch then him.
“You must be Warren,” he said in a deep voice.
Jaz appeared. “This is my better half, Julian.”
“Half?” Mitch said. “Julian’s more like eighty percent.”
“Tell your husband to cool it,” Jaz said to Holly. “He’s already on his way and he’s only had one pint.”
“I meant in size,” Mitch said with a laugh. “Not as in better percentage.”
Holly collected her white wine from the bar. “It’s my fault, I don’t let him out much these days.” She gave Mitch a kiss on the cheek.
Julian grinned and outstretched his hand to Warren. “You’ll have to excuse this lot.” He gave his hand a firm handshake. “Glad to meet you at last, you can’t hide in that field forever.”
“I weren’t expecting this,” he said gesturing around. “I thought it was going to be quiet in here.”
Julian gave a deep laugh. “This place is always busy and noisy. I hear you’re going to be the hero of the night!”
“I may be a disappointment.” He took the lager that Mitch handed him. “Thanks.”
“Come on. Let’s get the introductions done,” Mitch said.
Warren followed him across the room and he first stopped at the guy who looked familiar.
“This is Rob Bird.”
“Ah,” Warren said. “I thought I’d seen you somewhere before. I watched a few of your fights!” Warren recognised him as a boxer he used to watch on TV when he was a lad.
“Nice one!” Rob said lifting his pint to him.
“Rob’s our team manager,” Mitch said.
“It was the lot from The Dog and Horn that roped us into it,” Rob said. “They wanted to set up a league around here for pubs within three miles of their boozer, as they were fed up of travelling into Wells for their games.”
“Are they here?” Warren asked.
“No, but you’ll know when they arrive,” Mitch said with a chuckle.
“And this is Carl, he was the best player we had until you rocked up. He used to play for The Dog and Horn.”
“I was their worst player, though.” Carl said. “We’re expecting to get slaughtered by the Dogs but at least we might be able to take one or two games off them. This is our first friendly, the league starts in two weeks.” He looked past Warren. “Oh, here they come.”
Some of the guys rapped on the table as the men and a couple of women filed in. Warren stepped back and watched the good-natured banter and Jaz laughed with the women and took them to the bar. These people reminded him more of those back home. He was pleased he’d come.
“Hope I’m not late,” a well spoken dark-haired man, said. He wore a patterned jumper.
“Reverend Stephens, you made it,” Rob said, plastering on what looked to Warren like a fake grin. It was far too wide.
The reverend adjusted his jumper and Warren noticed his collar confirming this was a man of the church.
“Hey Rob what you doing?” one of the players from The Dog and Horn asked. “Arranging your last rights before your team gets slaughtered?” He followed with a hacking laugh.
“Reverend Stephens is our secret weapon,” Rob said although sounded far from convinced but the reverend descended into laughter.
“You need all the help you can get,” one of the Eversley Burrows women said with a laugh as she approached with Jaz.
Warren practised at the board and while he was a bit rusty, having watched the others throw a few practice shots, he guessed he was by far the best player The Eversley Arms had. He relaxed knowing that with his skill at darts, he had a better chance of being accepted into this tight-knit community.
“Where’s the food?” Carl shouted out to Simon.
“It’s bangers and chips. I’m cooking so it’s nothing fancy,” Simon said from behind the bar. “It’ll come out after the games,”
“That’s a shame, Rob could do with something to soak up the drink.” Carl looked at their team manager with a frown.
Warren stood by the bar, watching the busy room and wondered how well Rob would manage the team, as he appeared to be well on his way to being drunk. Warren’s attention was diverted when a woman entered the pub. She had long dark glossy hair and beautiful warm brown eyes. He remained where he was as if rooted to the spot as she walked through the pub. She reached Jaz who leaned up and gave her a hug.
“Got your eye on someone have you?” Rob dug him in the ribs.
“Me?” Is it that obvious? he thought, but he wasn’t going to admit. “No, I haven’t. I’m just surprised at how many people drink here.”
“Why don’t you go over and chat her up?” Rob slapped him on the back, ignoring his denial.
Warren wasn’t used to approaching women. He watched as she approached the bar, soon close to them and about to order a drink.
“Go on, now’s your chance,” Rob said and pushed him, resulting in his lager splashing her.
She turned around, her eyes narrowed. “Thank you!” She looked down at her red dress which now had a patch where his drink had landed.
“I’m so sorry,” Warren said.
Rob burst out laughing.
She shook her head giving Rob a disapproving look and flounced away.
“I wouldn’t worry about it, mate,” Rob slurred. “Nina’s as stuck up as they get. Lives with a millionaire and loves herself. What you drinking?” Rob grabbed his now empty glass. “I’ll replace this one.”
Nina? Warren thought as he watched the woman walk towards the exit. Is that Holly’s friend? He groaned, realising he’d upset the woman who was going through a hellish time.