Chapter 27
Kamran certainly knew how to get things done.
There must have been twenty men working on and around the huge diggers and tarmacking vehicles creating the new entrance and road from the country lane above The White House.
We’d discussed, weeks earlier, how we’d imagined the entrance and, although Kamran had wanted something a little jazzier, both Fabian and I had voted for a simple design for the restaurant signage board up on the lane, as well as hanging outside the actual building itself.
I’d parked the van in the care home car park, leaving a delighted Arthur with his equally delighted fan club eagerly awaiting his arrival.
The majority of the residents loved having Arthur there, each determined that he should favour only them with his presence, cocking a snook at a rival when Arthur made his decision to lie at the feet of whoever he liked the most. Or whoever had the best treats hidden up a sleeve or in a cardigan pocket.
I walked up through the care home’s grounds where a band of landscape gardeners was already hard at work clearing years of neglect.
There were at least two acres of overgrown rose bushes, vegetable gardens gone to seed and fruit trees desperately in need of pruning and attention.
I paused momentarily before continuing on to the newly laid road winding round The White House itself where I made the decision to carry on up to the lane above to see the work in progress there.
‘Wow!’ I said the word out loud, just gazing at the simple black signage which was in the process of being hung by two lackeys up a couple of ladders.
All black, with gold lettering. Having got our own way with everything else, Fabian and I had conceded Kamran the gold rather than the white we’d wanted.
A small pencil sketch of The White House was the only thing to break up the black and gold. And it worked. Goodness, did it work.
‘You all right?’ one of the men shouted down at me as I continued to just gaze skywards. ‘Bit windy up here though,’ he added conversationally when I didn’t reply.
‘I love it. Absolutely love it.’ I found myself grinning like some sort of demented loon, just taking it all in, gazing at the signage that was proof, if proof were needed, that the restaurant, my restaurant, was actually about to happen.
‘You all right, love?’ the man said again, looking a bit worried. ‘The place isn’t open yet, you know. You looking for a job down there?’
‘I already have one,’ I shouted in the man’s direction. Honestly, could life get any better?
‘So, you’ve finally accepted you’re going to be involved here then?’ I turned to find Robyn standing behind me, gazing up at the new sign. ‘I followed you up, but you didn’t hear me calling.’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’m going for it. I can do this.’
‘Of course you can.’ Robyn squeezed my arm, but continued to watch the workmen as they adjusted the angle of the sign. ‘We’ve been telling you this for ever.’
‘So, what are you doing up there?’
‘I called round at yours to see Joel – and you and Lola of course – but the place was deserted. Where’s Joel?’ She looked round. ‘And Lola? Who’s looking after Lola?’
‘Joel’s off to St Mede’s, he said. And Lola is at a friend’s from school.’
Robyn frowned. ‘Did you drop him off then? I was going to give him a lift down to school – we’ve a full rehearsal this afternoon.’
‘I’ve let him have Dean’s bike.’
Robyn whistled. ‘Blimey, the all-singing, all-dancing machine that Dean used three times before abandoning it back in the carport along with his rubber wetsuit?’
‘Yep.’
‘And he’s happy with that?’
‘Who? Joel?’ I laughed. ‘Joel is. Dean isn’t. But to be honest I don’t really care what Dean thinks any more.’
‘Come on, take me down to the restaurant for a nosy – I’ve some time before I have to be at the rehearsal, and I’m dying to see where you’re up to with it all.’
‘Doesn’t Fabian keep you up to date?’ I asked as we walked, arm in arm round the steep bend, stopping to admire the fabulous view across the fields to the Pennines beyond, before heading back down once more.
‘He’s always out’ – Robyn tutted – ‘seeing suppliers, meeting up with this person or that as directed by Kamran.’
‘I think Kamran’s doing his fair share.’
‘I know, I know. It’s just I’m now a new-restaurant widow.’
‘Probably not much different than when you were in London. You on stage in the West End until midnight and Fabian always in his chambers until late?’
Robyn nodded. ‘S’pose.’
‘I’ve got a date,’ I said, showing off.
‘A date?’ Robyn stopped walking. ‘It’s not George, is it?’
‘George? George Sattar? Why on earth would you think that?’ I felt myself go slightly pink remembering how much I’d enjoyed being shown round the farmhouse and barn George was contemplating buying.
How I’d felt comfortable with him, at ease, how I’d contemplated the man, realising for some strange reason how attractive he was.
‘No, no, of course not.’ Robyn shook her head, obviously thinking. ‘I always forget he’s with Mina. Mind you, I rarely see them together and, when I do, they’re always arguing. It’s just he’s always talking about you.’
‘Mina was at the gym with him the other day.’ I paused and then glanced at Robyn’s face. ‘George is? Always talking about me?’
‘Yes, yes. Constantly going on about what a great hockey player you are.’
‘Really?’
‘Hmm, the team is on the up and up with you on the wing apparently.’
‘While St Mede’s is on the down and down with George Sattar overseeing it all?’
‘Yes, ’fraid so.’ Robyn sighed. ‘I think we’ve got until next Christmas to hang on to the place.
The kids are already jumping ship – off to Beddingfield High if they can get a place; or probably heading for the streets and a life of crime if their parents can’t be bothered to sort new schools for them.
And it wouldn’t surprise me if Mason’s off somewhere too.
He’s been acting particularly shifty lately. But won’t admit to anything.’
‘You can’t blame him, Robyn. No school – no job. He’s a headteacher; headteachers need a school to be head of. And what are you going to do?’ We’d arrived at the door of The White House, but I stopped, taking Robyn’s hand. ‘What about your job?’
‘Oh, gosh, don’t worry about me. You know as well as I do, I was never cut out to be a teacher.’
‘Not according to Joel,’ I said. ‘He says you’re the best dance and drama teacher the school’s ever had…’
Robyn pulled a face at that.
‘…and he says he totally gets Shakespeare now that you insist on them acting it out rather than just reading and analysing random bits of it.’
‘He’s a bright boy.’ Robyn pulled me back as we were about to go through the lovely new wood and glass entrance of the restaurant. ‘Oh my God, look at this door! This entrance.’ Robyn put out a hand, following the smooth lines of beautifully grained expensive blonde oak.
‘You ain’t seen nothing yet,’ I said, as ridiculously proud as if I’d been the joiner and glazier myself. ‘Come on, come and see…’
I broke off as Robyn took her hand from the wood, placing it on my arm. ‘Hang on, hang on a minute! This date of yours?’
I laughed. ‘Not sure you can call it a date.’
‘Not Andy?’
‘Andy?’ I frowned.
‘Andy, as in Joel’s social worker. He couldn’t stop looking at you. Seems like a nice bloke as well. Bit steady…’
‘Steady?’
‘Well, can’t imagine him setting the world on fire.’
‘He’s a social worker, not an arsonist for heaven’s sake!
Social workers are meant to be steady. And dependable.
It’s what they do!’ I’d already thought myself that Andy was a bit, you know, wooden, but could so do without Robyn, who had Fabian in her bed and her life, being a bit sneery about him even if she had got the wrong end of the stick about him.
‘I think he has hidden depths,’ I said loftily.
‘Good,’ Robyn replied. ‘Even though you’re dismissing him without actually finding out what those depths might be?’ Robyn was laughing at me now. ‘So go on then, if you’re not out with George or the admirable Andy…’
‘He’s not in the blinking navy… Mind you, I’ve always fancied a man in uniform…’
‘Admirable, not admiral.’ Robyn started laughing and put out a hand once more, preventing me from walking into the downstairs part of the restaurant. ‘You’re not going anywhere until you tell me.’
‘OK, a rather lovely man who is the father of Lola’s new best friend.’
‘Oooh?’
‘Yep. That’s all I’m saying, or you’ll start having Henry… hell, I let that slip… in the army.’
‘Or the air force? Henry? Chocks away!’ Robyn twirled an imaginary bomber command moustache. ‘Well, certainly sounds a bit more upmarket than Dean. Good for you. Where are you going?’
‘Oh, just round to his house for supper. The girls are there – Lola and this friend, Ruby, I mean.’
‘Supper? Not tea? Make sure you have yer tea first then if you’re just going round for a mug of Horlicks and a custard cream before bed.
’ We both laughed at that. Mum, having been brought up a bit posh, always called the evening meal ‘supper’, whereas we were laughed out of the bike shed at Beddingfield Comp by the other kids if we ever used the ‘supper’ handle.
* * *
‘I can’t believe you’ve managed all this in just a couple of months.’ Robyn stared round, open-mouthed. ‘And the window’s been re-fitted as well?’
‘Only this morning.’ Kamran smiled. ‘I had them working overnight on it.’
‘Who on earth works overnight?’ I asked.
‘Anyone, if you offer them double time. Coffee? I’m trying to work out how this new machine works.
’ The three of us moved over to the prepping and cooking area.
All reflecting, shiny stainless-steel ovens, work surfaces, fridges and sinks, I reckon I’d need my sunglasses once I was actually cooking in here.
‘Hang on, I know how this works.’ Robyn frowned. ‘It’s exactly like the one we had in Graphite.’
‘Graphite?’