Chapter 4
4
Now that I was down here, I was determined that I would walk along the seafront at every opportunity, even if it wasn’t the best of weather; I would never take it for granted. No point being by the sea and not making the most of it, especially when it was dry. There was so much to do at June’s, and I had no idea where to start, so instead, as the sun was starting to peek out from behind the grey clouds, I grabbed my gilet and decided that I’d take myself for a walk.
Half of me wanted to curl up and acclimatise myself to my new surroundings before I put myself out there. The other half thought I wasn’t going to meet new people and make new friends if I didn’t leave the house.
As I walked along the promenade which led along the beach front, I took a deep breath in. There weren’t many people around so it was perfect to have a good nose around. Familiar with the streets from my last visit, I noticed that in just a few years things had changed quite significantly. Old businesses had closed down and new ones had opened up. There was a small supermarket on the junction of the roundabout opposite the lifeboat station and I decided that was a good place to visit. I could pop in, have a mooch about and see how the land lay, see if anyone spoke to me, so I headed in that direction.
The shop was reasonably quiet when I arrived. Meandering around the aisles, I threw some chocolate in the basket, which I cancelled out with a prepared bowl of salad. I then thought I’d treat myself to a bottle of bubbly to celebrate my dream coming true. It was extravagant but it wasn’t every day you started a new adventure like this one. As I approached the counter to pay, I noticed a basket at the front with some marked-down items and right on the top were a couple of Cornish pasties and some manky-looking turnips and carrots. They wouldn’t have them there if there was something wrong with them, I thought to myself. They were probably just odd-looking because I wasn’t used to farm shop quality. I even thought of getting a couple and putting them in the freezer.
A cough to the left signified that I was no longer alone and as I turned, I was approached by a little old woman. As our eyes connected, I felt a shiver run down my spine. How odd.
‘You planning to buy them?’ she asked. I dithered. I didn’t want to take these from a pensioner who might not be able to afford to pay full price when I’d got a bottle of expensive champagne in my basket.
‘I was but I’m very happy for you to have them. I’m sure I can find something else for my tea instead.’ I smiled at her and received a stare that Paddington Bear would have been proud of.
‘But they’re for the pegs,’ the woman exclaimed.
‘The pegs?’ I repeated.
‘Yes, dear. The pegs.’ The woman looked at me like I’d gone mad.
‘Oh, right. The pegs.’ Still totally unsure of what the woman was telling me, I thought it better to just agree. Maybe I’d managed to connect with the only mad old woman in the village. Just my luck.
All of a sudden, the woman started running over to the till area of the shop, snorting as she moved. With what I could feel was a horrified expression on my face, I looked over at the shopkeeper who had now appeared behind the counter. Judging by the grin on her face, she was clearly finding this all quite amusing.
‘Pegs. The pegs! Oink oink! You don’t want to eat that old food, m’darling. It’s on the counter for the pegs! It’s the stuff that’s way out of date and the shop can’t sell. You don’t want to be eating it, lovely. You’ll have the shits for weeks. Everyone around here knows that.’
The penny finally dropped.
‘Ah, you mean pigs?’
‘Yes, pegs. That’s what I said, didn’t I?’ She grabbed the pasties from my hand and put them into her own basket, handing it to the shopkeeper.
‘Tessa, where are your manners? We have a newbie in town. Wait your turn.’
‘No, it’s fine, honestly. I’m happy to wait.’
When the shopkeeper had bagged up the out-of-date items into a couple of carrier bags that the old woman had handed over, after staring at me for an uncomfortable period of time, she grunted, shook her head and shuffled out of the shop. Only then did my heart rate start to return to normal.
‘You must be the new lady that’s moved into Coop’s old house.’
I smiled. ‘That’s me.’
I offered the shopkeeper my hand to shake but it was refused and she told me to ‘bear with’ as she walked away from the counter towards the back of the shop. While waiting, I clocked the noticeboard by the counter and saw that there were a lot of local businesses advertising their trades. That might come in handy sooner than later. I also noticed an advert for a craft club in a café on the high street. I grabbed my phone out of my back pocket and snapped a couple of photos. Maybe a craft club would be a good place to meet some of the locals. They had a website so I’d have a mooch at it when I got some free time.
A minute or two later, the shopkeeper was back, wiping her hands on her jeans to dry them and reached out to me with a firm handshake.
‘Let’s start again. So, I’m Mary. Born and bred in town. And this shop has been in our family for years. You’ve obviously met Tessa. Otherwise known as Dame Tessa. Yes. Believe it or not, she’s a dame. Story goes that she was given a medal to thank her for some sort of hush-hush work she did in the early seventies, but she never speaks about it. She’s as mad as a box of frogs but completely harmless. Her heart is in the right place and she’d do anything for anyone if they needed her to. She lives at the big old farmhouse at the top of the cliff and keeps herself to herself most of the time. She has a smallholding, hence the err… pegs.’
We both laughed. ‘I honestly don’t know how she does it all but she refuses the help that we in the village offer her and always says she’s fine. She and June were as thick as thieves and always helped each other out. Never would have put the two of them together but they were the best of friends for many years. She must be lost without her.’
‘Aw, that’s so sad. But how lovely to have lifelong friends like that.’
This made me think about the very small number of friends I did have and none in this area. Maybe Mary could be a friend in time and even introduce me to other locals.
‘Nice to meet you, Mary. I’m Jo. Jo Jenkins.’
‘Welcome to our lovely little town. You’ve certainly got your work cut out in that old house, haven’t you? Are your family here with you?’
I had forgotten how intrusive small communities could be, but decided in for a penny, in for a pound. People would get to know that I was here on my own after a short while, so while I still found it difficult to say out loud, I decided to get it over and done with.
‘No, it’s just me. Newly divorced and ready to start a new chapter of my life.’ I smiled.
‘Blimey, that’s a big old house for one.’
‘It is.’
‘It’ll surely keep you busy, my dear. It was such a lovely old place, such a shame that June let it deteriorate over the last couple of years.’
‘Yeah, I didn’t quite realise that had happened when I agreed to live here. The first time I ever saw the cottage, years and years ago, I fell head over heels in love with it. So I didn’t even bother to come and see it before I moved here. God, I sound like such an idiot. But all the reports came back to say it was structurally sound.’
‘Ah, yes, structurally sound and liveable are two very different things I expect. But there’s lots of builders around that should be able to help you. I’m sure you’ll have it looking fabulous again in no time. Houses are like husbands. When you know you’ve met the right one, you just know.’
I smiled, not wanting to tell her how topical I thought her sentence was. I thought Michael and I would be together forever. I hoped I would have more luck with this house.
‘It’s a pleasure to have you, m’dear. I hope you’ll be very happy here.’
As I walked away from the shop, clutching my handbag to me, the shopping bag swinging by my side, I could hear the sound of the bottle of champagne clanking away against the rest of my shopping. I approached the cottage and sighed. Long gone was that chocolate-box image of a gorgeous seaside abode and in its place was a tatty, run-down ruin, in desperate need of a lot more than a jet-wash and a lick of paint, but even more than that, some love and attention. After the few months that I had recently had, I realised that the cottage wasn’t the only one in need of those things.