Chapter 23
Hannah led her across the cobbles to the small corner shop next door but one. The sign above the door read: Cobblers Yard Legal Drop-In – Free Advice, Friendly Faces.
Inside, the place smelled of paper, lemon-scented cleaner, and freshly baked cakes and scones.
‘Joss bakes too?’ Bridie whispered.
‘Ah, no – that will be his volunteer, who is actually his partner’s mum. She brings in fresh cakes every day for his clients.’
‘I think I’ve met her already,’ said Bridie recalling her visit to the yard before she’d met Hannah. The older woman had spotted her loitering outside and invited her in. Bridie had told her she didn’t need any help.
Suddenly the letter she’d stuffed into her coat pocket, the official-looking one addressed to her at her parent’s house with a solicitor’s return address, came to mind.
What with suddenly becoming a pet parent, and moving into the flat, not to mention starting a new job –all in the space of one day – she’d forgotten all about the letter.
She hesitated outside the door, feeling apprehensive. She was thinking of the letter and wondering if she’d be back, needing some sort of legal advice if the theatre was suing her for breach of contract. She wouldn’t have the money to fight a legal case.
Barney pulled on his lead, clearly excited about the visit.
They walked through the waiting area to find a young man wearing three-quarter shorts.
He had a faded tan, lots of friendship bracelets, a shock of blonde hair and a day’s worth of stubble.
He was sitting in what she wouldn’t describe as an office – it was more like a small cosy lounge – scrolling on a tablet.
Bridie looked at him in surprise. She was expecting a middle-aged man, or older, with salt-and-pepper hair, shuffling papers at a desk piled high with files.
The sort who had had a legal career and was now retired but had decided to do some pro bono work in retirement.
This guy looked as though he was some sort of surfer dude, not a solicitor.
Hannah whispered, ‘You’re not the only one who is taken by surprise. He made a lot of money with his own legal firm and retired in his thirties. Don’t let appearances fool you. He’s a very smart guy, and a great legal mind. He’s also a little … how shall I put it … unconventional.’
Bridie nodded. ‘I’ll say.’
‘Joss,’ Hannah called, ‘your new neighbour has arrived.’
Barney rushed forward, the lead pulled out of Bridie’s hand.
Joss looked up and flashed a warm, tired smile. ‘Ah! The stage star.’
Bridie tried not to wince. ‘Former stage star.’
‘So modest,’ he teased. ‘I’m Joss. I help people with paperwork and minor legal nightmares. Occasionally major ones. Don’t let the chaos worry you – I always know where everything is.’
Behind him were bookshelves filled with stacks of files.
A file slipped off the back of the stack.
‘Well,’ he amended, ‘almost always.’
Barney sniffed his shoes. Joss leaned down to scratch his head. ‘And you brought a puppy. That’s at least three more brownie points than most residents here.’
Bridie laughed despite herself. ‘This is Barney.’
Barney made a beeline for the bookshelves. ‘Barney – no!’ It was too late. His curious nose dislodged a pile of paperwork, the loud thud making him whimper and run to hide behind her legs.
‘Oh, god! I’m so sorry. Barney – you naughty dog!’
Bridie decided he wouldn’t be visiting any other shops, causing havoc, until she’d taught him some manners.
‘Don’t worry,’ Joss flashed another warm smile. ‘Nothing that can’t be fixed. Thinking of which, I’m here if you ever need anything,’ Joss said warmly.
Bridie thought of the envelope in her coat pocket and hoped to goodness she didn’t need any help of a legal nature.
‘Truly. We look after each other in this place.’
Next, Hannah ushered Bridie into the bookshop after Bridie had insisted on taking her boisterous pup home to have a wee in the yard before settling down for another nap in his crate.
She’d gently stroked his head and watched his little brown eyes grow sleepy.
She’d crept out of the flat, leaving her pup fast asleep, to join Hannah outside the bookshop.
Despite outward appearances – the new releases carefully arranged in the window – inside, it was still the second-hand bookshop she remembered from years earlier, with the rows and rows of bookcases rammed with books, and a bell that chimed cheerfully above the door.
The shop smelled of dust, ink, and nostalgia.
She remembered books stacked in wobbly towers, as though each one had simply chosen a place to rest and stayed there, but now there were no books stacked on the floor, just neat bookshelves.
She imagined Henry’s daughter had had a hand in removing the clutter and bringing some order to the chaos.
Henry sat behind the counter, polishing his spectacles with a knitted cloth. His daughter, Thea, her dark curls escaping her ponytail, was half-hidden behind a stack of Penguin paperbacks.
‘Henry, Thea,’ Hannah called. ‘Come and meet Bridie.’
Thea perked up immediately. ‘You’re the new girl living above Hannah’s shop!’
‘That’s me,’ Bridie said with a reticent smile, hoping Thea hadn’t had the time to scroll through social media and come across her spectacular fall from grace on the London stage.
Henry stood and extended a warm, ink-stained hand. ‘I’m Henry. This is my daughter, Thea. Welcome to the yard.’
Thea said, ‘If you ever need books, tea, or an escape from reality, this is the place.’
Bridie smiled, glancing at the cosy corner set up just like Hannah’s with an old sofa, easy chairs, a lamp, a rug and the all-important coffee machine.
‘Or if you need the opposite,’ Henry added, ‘go next door to Joss.’
Bridie laughed. ‘Good to know.’ Her smile faded at the thought of that letter she still hadn’t opened.
Thea leaned on the counter. ‘Hannah says you’re taking a sabbatical from the stage.’
Bridie nodded with what she hoped looked like casual enthusiasm rather than panicked deflection. ‘Something like that.’
Thea was several years younger than Bridie.
She vaguely recognised her, but Thea would have been too young to remember her.
Bridie recalled that soon after she’d left school for the bright lights of London, Thea’s father, who travelled around the country selling rare books while his wife, Thea’s mum, minded the bookshop, had disappeared while on his travels.
She’d heard the bookshop had closed, and Thea’s mum had taken her two young daughters to London to live with her parents, where they had grown up.
She didn’t know the ins and outs, but after some years, Henry had come back, and clearly whatever had happened to Henry, and his family, in those intervening years, they had found each other again and had reopened the bookshop.
Henry turned to his daughter. ‘Isn’t it time you got ready for school?’
Thea was well past school age, but fortunately Hannah had told Bridie about his condition. Dementia. He could function very well in his shop in the yard – nothing had changed, apart from his daughter, who was all grown-up now. But if he left the yard, it would be a different story.
Bridie had seen the carers, who looked after Henry overnight, arrive when the shop closed, before Thea left for the day.
‘And you, young lady,’ said Henry, turning to Bridie, ‘isn’t it time you were off to school too?’
‘Who – me?’ Bridie looked at him in surprise. ‘You remember me?’
‘Remember you? You are a daft brush. You’re here every weekend with your two friends. Thick as thieves you three are. Where are Jack and Ollie?’ He looked around as though he expected them to walk in at any moment.
‘Oh, er … Ollie and Jack have already left for school.’ Bridie didn’t like telling fibs, but she quickly understood that for a moment he had been in the present, but now he was back in the past, where he lived most of the time.
‘Now, which one are you sweet on?’
Bridie could feel the colour rising in her cheeks. She really wanted the end this conversation. ‘It was … it’s Jack.’
‘Oh yes, of course. Poor Ollie. I see the way he looks at you. Such a dear boy, quiet and thoughtful. Doesn’t have a chance though, does he?’
Bridie stared at Henry. She hadn’t realised at the time the possibility that her quiet, thoughtful best friend just might be in love with her. That wasn’t the case – was it?
‘Quite the opposite to your Jack,’ commented Henry.
He’s not my Jack – not anymore, thought Bridie. She hadn’t seen or heard from him in years; not since she was a teenager. She wasn’t surprised. It hadn’t exactly ended well.
‘How are the rehearsals going? I heard you’re quite the star in the drama club at school.’
Henry was still talking about the past. ‘Yes, it’s er … going very well.’
‘Isn’t it just fantastic they’re opening the theatre in town for the school play to be performed there?
It’s the talk of the town, don’t you know.
Everyone comments when they come into my shop.
People are looking forward to the theatre reopening and going to see the first play performed there in years. ’
‘Oh, I never knew that. I mean, I didn’t know that.’
‘Oh, yes. Everyone is hoping the theatre stays open.’
‘Do you know who owns the theatre, Henry?’
‘Owns it?’
Bridie waited with bated breath.
‘Now, there’s a mystery if ever I heard one.’
Bridie let out a disappointed breath.
‘You know, I asked Reggie that question once. Reggie and that theatre go way back. He used to star on the stage there in a theatre group.’
‘What did he say?’ Bridie asked.
‘You know, I can’t remember. How silly of me. I only asked him the other day.’
Bridie exchanged a glance with Thea. She expected Thea was thinking the same thing; it was probably years earlier that he’d had a conversation with Reggie about the theatre.
‘Why on earth can’t I remember?’ Henry was getting agitated.
Thea said, ‘It’s all right, Dad. I’m sure it will come back to you.’
Bridie thought it was probably time she left. ‘I’d better get off to school.’
Henry brightened. ‘Yes, of course. You don’t want to be late. Thea? Are you going with your friend?’
Thea nodded. ‘In a bit.’
Thea followed Bridie and Hannah to the door. She whispered, ‘Bridie, that so kind of you to go along with his conversation. I hope he didn’t embarrass you.’
‘No, not at all.’ Bridie said, telling another fib.
Hannah said, ‘You don’t mind that I apprised Bridie of the … situation with your dad?’
‘I’m glad you did, otherwise Bridie would have been really confused.’ Thea turned to Bridie. ‘I hope my dad hasn’t put you off popping in and having a cuppa.’
‘No, not a bit,’ said Bridie genuinely. In fact, she was looking forward to hearing more of Henry’s recollections of the old theatre.
‘I’d like to visit Reggie next,’ said Bridie, eyeing the charity shop across the yard, rather hoping they could give that a miss.
‘Good idea,’ Hannah replied. ‘Looks like the sisters are running late today, so I think we’ll have to give them a miss this morning.’
‘Oh, what a shame.’
Thea looked at her and laughed.
Bridie threw her a sheepish grin. Hannah had guessed Bridie wasn’t looking forward to meeting them.
‘Still, I’m sure they’ll pop in at some point for a cuppa and a biscuit.’
Bridie grimaced. She’d already been forewarned that they did pop into Hannah’s shop and make themselves at home on the sofa.
They stepped up to Reggie’s shop door and Bridie immediately noticed a note stuck to the door.
So did Hannah. ‘Ah, Reggie is out tuning Grace’s piano.’
Bridie was disappointed. She should have paid him a visit the previous evening, but it had been her first night in the flat, and she hadn’t wanted to leave Barney alone while she nipped across the yard to tell Reggie she was his new neighbour.
‘Well, I call it Grace’s piano,’ continued Hannah, ‘but her granddaughter, Briony, now lives in The Beach House where the piano is, along with her husband and child. Hopefully you’ll meet them sometime. When they visit Cobblers Yard, I’ll be sure to introduce you to more of my friends.’
‘You have so many friends,’ commented Bridie, staring at the note.
‘It’s that sort of place. Everyone is so friendly. Mind you, I had my best friend, Lili, who introduced me to all the people she’s met since she moved here. And now, you have me to do the same. You know what they say – it takes a village.’
Bridie turned to look at Hannah. ‘I thought that saying related to raising a child?’
‘I personally think that saying should apply to everybody, no matter your age or circumstance. We all need good people around us to thrive and reach our potential.’
Bridie frowned.
Hannah noticed. ‘Oh, did I say something wrong?’
‘No, on the contrary. You made me realise something. In all the years I’d been living and working in London, I didn’t have a village.’ Bridie quickly rephrased, ‘I know London isn’t a village but …’
‘I understand,’ Hannah said smiling brightly.
‘I could have had a village in London, people, friends in my corner, but I … didn’t.’
And Bridie realised something else – she hadn’t really been thriving in London; just working hard but not attaining the important things in life – friendships.
She hadn’t created her own village, like Hannah had – with friends, supportive people who genuinely cared about her – in which to thrive.
If she had, there would have been others to turn to besides her family.
She knew she was very lucky to have parents she could turn to, and her grandad – she was putting off phoning him, feeling she had let him down after all his support and his belief in her dream to become a theatre actress.
But sometimes her family could just be too much, thinking they knew what was best for her.
She thought of her mum, already trying to pair her off with Oliver, and the inference that now she’d had her fun playing in the theatre, she should settle down and get a serious job and a serious boyfriend.
She didn’t need their interference. What she needed was a group of good friends who would support her in whatever decision she made with her life.
‘Come on,’ said Hannah, ‘let’s get back and open up the shop. It’s your big day.’
Bridie knew what she meant by that; for the first time, she’d be working in the shop on her own.
‘Now, remember,’ said Hannah, handing her over the shop keys, ‘I’m just next door if you need anything.’
Bridie cast a gaze over to the charity shop before she stepped inside, hoping the sisters weren’t working that day. She could do without them popping in while she was working in the shop on her own.