Chapter 21
The staircase in the old building creaked as they climbed. Hannah unlocked the door at the top and pushed it open.
‘This is it. I’m afraid it might be a bit dusty and cobwebby.’
The flat smelled faintly of lavender and fresh paint, though its bones were older – a small kitchenette tucked into one corner, a cosy sitting room with an old-fashioned sofa upholstered in faded green, a standard lamp whose fabric shade had seen better days.
Two bedrooms branched off from the main room, modest but full of light.
‘It’s …’ Bridie searched for the right word. ‘Different.’
She thought of her London apartment: open-plan, gleaming surfaces, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the constant hum of the city. This place was tiny in comparison. Quiet. Lived-in. Real.
Barney sniffed every corner of the flat, tail beating wildly. Then, once satisfied, he circled inside his crate and promptly fell asleep.
Bridie tucked a blanket around him and stood for a moment, watching his small chest rise and fall.
The flat might be old-fashioned, small and nothing like the life she had imagined for herself …
but for the first time since she’d arrived in Suffolk, she felt at peace in a place where she knew she could start planning her future without her well-intentioned parents trying to sort her life out for her – or her sister popping in at any time deriding her and rubbing her nose in her misfortune.
She walked over to the small lounge window in the eaves, overlooking the yard. Cobblers Yard stretched below her, cobbled and peaceful under the dimming sky. The old streetlamp outside flickered with a soft gold glow, like something out of a storybook.
She could hear Hannah downstairs in the shop.
She’d said she’d introduce her to her friends and fellow shopkeepers in Cobblers Yard when she was ready.
Hannah stared out of the window. She’d already made a friend whom she’d met quite by accident outside the old theatre on Saturday.
She would have been surprised to learn then that two days later she’d been living right opposite him.
Directly across the yard from her window was Reggie’s music shop.
She could see an identical window in the eaves and imagined it was Reggie’s lounge window too.
She liked that she wouldn’t be alone in the yard after hours when the shops closed.
She felt a sudden absurd wave of optimism that wherever her life led from there, she was going to be okay.
Back downstairs, Hannah led her behind the counter of the shop.
‘I thought I’d show you around now. You’ve seen the shop already, but back here is the stock room, so if you ever need to restock the shelves, this is where everything is.
’ Hannah opened the door to a well-stocked back room.
‘As I said yesterday, you don’t have to reorder any stock – just serve any customers.
And please use the cosy corner for tea, coffee … and chocolate digestive biscuits.’
Bridie smiled.
‘Oh, goodness!’ Hanna exclaimed. ‘We haven’t discussed what I’m paying you or what hours you’d like to do.’
‘I’d like to do?’
‘I know I mentioned three days, but if you could stretch to four days, that would be fabulous. Truth is, I’m really busy setting up the shop next door at the moment, so I could do with more help than I first thought.’
Bridie hadn’t expected that much work. ‘That would be great, Hannah, truly. And as far as the wage goes, I assume as a shop assistant it will be minimum wage,’ said Bridie. ‘I’m just thankful to have a job. And I do want to pay some rent too.’
‘I know. Look, I’m not paying you minimum wage.’
Bridie quickly said, ‘Oh, of course. I shouldn’t have said that. Really, it doesn’t have to be as much as that.’ Bridie was aware that the minimum wage had gone up a lot recently.
Hannah looked at her curiously. ‘Oh, I think you misunderstood. You’ve saved me a lot of time and hassle trying to find a shop assistant. And I get the feeling you put your heart and soul into everything you do …’
Bridie looked at her in surprise. Hannah hardly knew her, but she’d guessed correctly. ‘I do like to put my all into everything I do.’
‘I think you’ll be a credit to my business while you’re here, so I’m thinking fifteen pounds an hour. I know over four days that’s only 450 pounds gross …’
‘That’s fantastic.’
‘But I won’t accept rent.’
‘What? But I want to …’
‘The thing is, you’ll be a doing me a favour if you don’t. You see, I’m going to then have to put it through for tax as another income, and it’s just going to give my accountant a headache.’
Bridie managed a smile. ‘Oh, I didn’t think of that.’
‘The flat is just sitting there empty as I can’t really let it as it’s above my shop. So, you can just look after the place.’
‘I will,’ Bridie assured her.
‘Great! Then it’s agreed. If I can have your bank details to pay in your salary, we can do the paperwork. You don’t have to worry that you’re tied into the job. I understand you’ll be looking to return to London and to the stage when you can.’
‘Yes, absolutely,’ said Bridie, although for some reason she didn’t feel quite as sure as she sounded.
Hannah flicked on a small lamp that bathed the shelves in warm light. ‘Let me show you around once more.’
Bridie nodded, taking in the layout. Rows of paper, canvas, pens and notebooks, along with paints, paintbrushes, and a wall of frames displaying local artwork.
The shop felt carefully curated, loved. Hannah showed her the till, the storeroom again, the glass cabinet where the more delicate pieces were displayed.
Bridie listened, absorbing everything, grateful for the distraction, grateful for the steady feeling blooming in her chest.
‘You’ll get the hang of it quickly,’ Hannah said. ‘And you’ll like the people here. Cobblers Yard looks quiet, but it’s a little community.’
Bridie ran her fingertips along a row of painted mugs. ‘I think I could like it here.’
Hannah smiled. ‘Good. That’s the idea.’