Chapter Ten
The pub was closed until the evenings during the winter months, save for the classes that took place in the back function room most afternoons. It was a steady extra income that, while not substantial, helped to top up the daily takings. Today it was once again the turn of Meg’s art class to bring in a small group of locals, who braved the now snowy weather and bought a round of hot toddies to warm them all up. Robyn prepared the drinks, alone behind the bar as an early morning phone call had sent Matt and Dennis to the big Cramlington hospital to meet with the oncology team.
“Come and join us, lovely,” Meg patted the empty spot on the banquette next to her and Robyn joined the small but friendly group.
Ed from the antiques shop sat opposite her, his usual pristine self in a tweed jacket and matching tie, whilst Joy from Upper Oakley sat next to him sipping her drink and deep in thought.
“A penny for them?” Meg asked her politely, when conversation around the table was slow. Certainly, Robyn didn’t feel she had much to contribute with her mind on how Matt and his dad were getting on.
“Me? Oh, it’s just that we have the grand opening of the shop in less than two weeks, I’m determined to get it open before Christmas even though I know I’ve missed most of the festive trade, and I just can’t decide on the name. The signwriter is waiting for my final confirmation, I’ve got Laurel coming back from university next week and I desperately wanted it ready to do the big reveal for her yet I’m struggling to make the decision. It seems all I’ve done these past few months is make decisions and this is one too many,” Joy had bought the old art gallery owned by Janet’s son, Josh – also Meg’s boyfriend – a few months ago and had moved her floristry business up from the smaller unit further down Castle View. Deciding to take the opportunity to expand, she was also refitting the place to be a teashop and book nook.
“Well, maybe we could help?” Ed suggested in his gentle tone, a small blush creeping suddenly up his neck from his starched collar.
If she wasn’t mistaken, Robyn thought she saw more than a hint of thinly disguised adoration in his expression as he turned in his chair to look at the florist.
I’m seeing everything through heart-shaped glasses now, she chided herself, the poor man is probably just lonely and being friendly.
As if to silently rebuke that theory, though, Joy turned and gave Ed the biggest, most encouraging smile, “That’s very kind, thank you. Well, on the short list we have ‘Bunches, Beans and Books’, ‘Branching Out,’ ‘Bloom, Grind and Bind,’- actually scratch that one, it maybe gives the wrong vibes – and ‘Cheen Cheer.’
“All excellent,” Ed nodded appreciatively, and Robyn got the distinct impression he and Joy could quite happily have been the only ones in the room, “but I think my favourite is Cheen Cheer. It makes me think of you and your cheerful eyes.” He blushed heartily then, as if aware he had just said more words than most people had ever heard from him in a social setting. Antiques he could talk about till the cows came home, but general chit-chat? Never. Probably because his late mother had had a habit of talking for him or over him, but still.
“I agree it’s less wordy and encompasses both a friendly welcome and cosy atmosphere,” Meg agreed.
“Let’s drink to it! Cheers!” Ed said, raising his hot toddy enthusiastically in the air between the pair, clearly emboldened by Joy’s wide smile which had been angled at him the whole time.
“Thank you so much,” Joy said, to Ed rather than to the group as a whole, and raised her own cup, clinking it on his delicately and holding eye contact for as long as possible.
It was an understandably disconsolate pair who returned to the pub in the late afternoon, covered in snow from the short walk from the car to the door and neither of them speaking. Dennis excused himself immediately to his room, mumbling that they shouldn’t expect him around at opening time, whilst Matty walked straight into Robyn’s open arms. They had agreed that morning, as they awoke slowly and stretched languidly together, to keep their fledgling relationship a secret until they were sure the leap from friendship to more had been decisively and successfully made. There was no point getting anyone’s hopes up or, worse still, dealing with any judgement if it was going to fizzle out anyway. Hugs, though, had always been a staple of their friendship and so Dennis didn’t bat an eyelid as he walked past and up the stairs, in any case lost in his own thoughts.
“Was it as awful as we imagined?” Robyn whispered as Matt snuggled his face in the nook of her neck and rested it there, his arms tight around her waist.
“Worse, Rubes, the worst. We need to make this Christmas as special as possible. Starting with now, I’m going to get the decorations out of the loft and make a start.”
“Right now? Are you sure? We’ve opening in an hour and I bet you haven’t eaten.”
As if listening and right on cue, Matt’s stomach made a loud growling sound.
“Okay then, tomorrow morning, but let’s not cook yet,” he led her up the rickety old staircase into the living area above and straight to his room.
Robyn had the feeling things were moving too fast, that she wanted to slow it down a bit, not necessarily physically as she’d pushed for that after all, but just maybe in the romance department. Circumstances were difficult, work was demanding, but somewhere deep down she wondered if they should back up a bit and go on a few dates or something. Now wasn’t the time to voice this, however, partly because she didn’t want to scare him away by running hot then cold, but also because he clearly needed this closeness. Needed her.
And it felt so good to be needed.
Matt’s room was a mirror copy of Robyn’s own, even down to the flocked wallpaper and floral curtains that had been chosen by Noelle for every room in the flat when Matt was little. Dennis had indulged his wife, of course, as he had with most things, and since her passing none of them had wanted to change her mark on the place.
They stretched out on top of his bed, with Matt sighing heavily as he bent his arm behind his head on the pillow. Robyn rested her head on his chest, feeling the rise and fall, his heartbeat a comforting sound beneath her ear.
“Still got the power rangers figurines, I see,” Robyn teased as she scanned the shelving unit opposite the bed.
“Hey, don’t be dissing my childhood heroes, Miss Sabrina The Teenage Witch!” he volleyed back, tickling her sides gently and making her squirm with giggles.
Teasing quickly turned to something else entirely as they suddenly became very still, his body covering hers though all his weight was on his own arms.
“Thank you for being my goofy friend,” he whispered, rubbing the tip of her nose with his own.
“You’re so mushy,” she smiled up at him, enjoying the tiny kisses he began to dot over the bridge of her nose.
Maybe the dates could wait. Right here, right now, seemed pretty perfect.