Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
ANDY
A ndy couldn’t tear his eyes away from Cath as she blew on the hot fruit slice before taking a careful nibble from the edge. He grinned as her eyes lit up with delight.
‘Oh. My. Goodness!’ she murmured. ‘Heather, you’re a genius!’
‘Isn’t she?!’ said Andy. ‘See, I told you.’
‘You, little brother, are a cake pusher!’ laughed Heather.
‘Yeah, yeah!’ said Andy, popping the last piece of his still-steaming cake into his mouth. Why was it that the last bite was always the best?
‘I don’t mind him getting me hooked on something when it tastes this good!’ said Cath, taking another careful bite. She clearly wasn’t up for scalding the roof of her mouth like he had.
Heather opened her own bag and took a bite, leaning back against the wooden doorjamb of the bakery with a contented sigh.
‘Okay,’ she said, ‘not bad, even if I do say so myself!’
‘Now try saying that without steam pouring out of your mouth,’ chuckled Andy.
‘Not possible,’ Heather shrugged. ‘Anyway, Cath—has the state of the museum managed to scare you off yet?’
Andy frowned as he glanced at Cath, watching for her reaction. For some reason, he was flooded with relief when she shook her head.
‘Absolutely not,’ she said, and there was a hint of steel to her voice. ‘I mean… I like a challenge.’
‘Just as well!’ said Heather. ‘From what Andy said, it sounds like what’s-her-name from the council wasn’t exactly forthcoming about the state of the place when you had your interview?’
‘Well… maybe not,’ said Cath. ‘I mean, I guess I wasn’t expecting quite so much random junk… but I was expecting at least a couple of decent displays already in place that I could build on. Never mind. I’ll get it sorted. Somehow.’
‘Well, you’re a braver woman than me,’ said Heather. ‘I wouldn’t even know where to start.’
‘Why do you think I’m down here with you guys instead of back up there!’ said Cath with a sheepish smile.
‘Well, if there’s anything we can do…’ said Andy.
‘Actually, I wanted to ask—what’s with all the old tennis gear?’ said Cath. ‘Any ideas? I found the remains of some kind of display… and there was that old racket outside too. Crumbleton’s on a hill. Is there even a tennis court here?’
Andy nodded, doing his best to surreptitiously brush fruit slice crumbs from the front of his overalls as he did so. ‘Yep. At least, there used to be... down at the Dolphin and Anchor. The place didn’t start life as a hotel, believe it or not. It used to be the headquarters of the Crumbleton on the Hill Lawn Tennis Club.’
‘You’re kidding?’ said Cath.
‘This place always had ideas above its station,’ laughed Heather.
‘But… where was the court?’ said Cath.
‘It’s around the back,’ said Andy. ‘You wouldn’t know that’s what it used to be. It’s a slightly overgrown bit of garden now —which is my fault because I need to get down there and put the mower around. They use it for wedding photos now, but there used to be a pristine grass court. Apparently, they served strawberries and cream on a covered terrace after every game.’
‘That fell down ages ago,’ said Heather.
‘Sounds wonderful,’ said Cath.
‘There was a members bar too, and changing rooms and everything,’ said Andy. ‘Apparently, it was all very grand.’
‘But… it’s not there anymore?’ said Cath. ‘I mean, no one plays tennis down there these days?’
‘Nah, not for ages,’ said Andy. ‘Of course, Heather might remember it. She’s a lot more ancient than I am.’
‘Oi, you cheeky blighter!’ said Heather, leaning forward to poke him in the stomach. ‘Less of that cheek or your cake supply’s cut off!’
Andy grinned at her.
‘Seriously Cath, don’t believe a word out of his mouth. I’m three years older than him… and he’s a bloomin’ spring chicken. For the record, the tennis club has been closed for years. And when I say years, I mean decades!’
‘That seems like a shame,’ said Cath.
‘It was all well and good when they were playing using the old wooden rackets,’ said Andy, ‘but the minute things started to get a bit more high tech and the balls could be walloped faster and further, there were a lot of complaints from the neighbours about broken windows. It didn’t take long for the place to close down after that. Then Fergus bought the building and turned it into what it is today.’
‘Must have been about thirty or forty years ago,’ said Heather. ‘Obviously, the building itself is even older and predates the tennis club. It was built by some crazy dude who liked playing snooker.’
‘Crazy in what way?’ said Cath, cocking her head at Andy in a way that made him feel strangely breathless. It was only Heather’s knowing look that loosened his tongue. He could really do without his sister ribbing him about Cath. The poor woman had only just arrived in town!
‘To be fair,’ said Andy, ‘I think the jury’s out as to whether Sir Anthony Cheswell was nuts or a genius.’
‘Oh come on!’ said Heather. ‘The guy spent years trying to persuade everyone that Crumbleton should be a city. On top of that, he had some insane plan to install a railway so that people wouldn’t have to walk up the hill.’
‘Well, there have definitely been days when I wouldn’t have minded a lift from the City Gates up to the top,’ said Andy.
‘So call Brian and catch a taxi,’ said Heather, rolling her eyes.
‘But… nothing ever came of it?’ said Cath. ‘The railway, I mean?’
‘Nah,’ said Andy, shaking his head, ‘just like most of his ideas. He was the one who established the museum though, and he installed the bells in the castle tower too.’
‘There are bells up there?’ said Cath. ‘I don’t think I’ve heard them yet!’
‘Well no, you probably wouldn’t have,’ said Heather, ‘they’re not exactly "magnificent" like the tourist guidebook claims. They just make a bit of a dull thunk … but you’re lucky if they do it the right number of times—’
‘Or anywhere near the hour,’ said Andy. ‘I like them, though. They’re part of Crumbleton’s charm.’
‘You would say that,’ said Heather. ‘I guess that’s because you’re part of Crumbleton’s charm too!’
Andy stuck his tongue out at his sister, and Cath laughed. He had a sudden, mad desire to keep making her do that for the rest of his life.
‘Anyway,’ said Heather, ‘Cheswell’s part in the town’s history tends to get glossed over a bit.’
‘But why?’ said Cath, clearly intrigued.
‘Well,’ said Heather, ‘he had all these grand plans, but they all ended up being half-arsed because he kept running out of money. Everything he tried to achieve was done on a budget. I mean… look at the City Gates.’
‘I love them,’ said Andy. ‘It’s all those little quirks that make Crumbleton unique. I know people always want to make out that the town is ancient - medieval at the very least, and there are some seriously old parts like the cobbles outside the museum, but—’
‘Oh, not with the stones again!’ said Heather, rolling her eyes. ‘You know what? On that note, I’m going back to work.’
Andy grinned at his sister as she beat a hasty retreat.
‘Don’t mind her,’ he said to Cath, who was looking mildly alarmed. ‘It’s a running joke.’
‘Er… okay,’ said Cath.
‘Anyway, as I was saying… people tend to want Crumbleton to pretend to be something it’s not, but there’s tons of history here if you know where to look.’
‘Well thanks, it’s definitely good to hear some of the history,’ said Cath. ‘Especially the bits that aren’t in the books. I’ve clearly got a lot to learn about the place.’
‘I’ve always found the best way to learn about a town is through its people.’ Andy quickly closed his mouth feeling like a total plonker. What was he doing, lecturing a curator on how to do her job, when his job was mending cobbles and cutting grass?! ‘Sorry! I don’t know what I’m talking about.’
‘Yes, you do,’ said Cath. ‘I totally agree. I—watch out behind you!’
Andy turned to see the first car of the day trundling up the hill towards them.
‘Damn,’ he muttered. ‘I’d better finish up here and get out of the way before someone tries to illegally park on me.’
‘Well, thank you for the company,’ said Cath. ‘Will you say thanks to Heather for the fruit slice too? I didn’t get to pay—’
‘It’s on me,’ said Andy quickly. ‘Like I said, it’s your welcome to Crumbleton cake.’
‘Oh, but—’
‘But nothing,’ said Andy with a smile. ‘There’ll be plenty of chances to return the favour.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ said Cath.
‘And if you need a hand with anything, I’m on that list of numbers of yours. Andy Morgan.’
‘In that case, Mr Morgan,’ said Cath with a warm smile that made his knees do something funny, ‘I’ll probably speak to you in about ten minutes.’