Chapter 18 #2
‘I don’t know that either,’ he says with a sigh and a half-laugh at how uncertain all these ‘I don’t knows’ sound.
‘I’ve loved this beautiful old building since I was young, and it deserves better.
I don’t want to let the people of this village down, I don’t want to admit defeat and I don’t want to let the building itself down.
If I sell now, the only people likely to be interested are developers, who’d do God-only-knows what to it, but would almost definitely knock it down.
And I love it here. All the good memories of childhood, all in one place.
After everything…’ He pushes out a breath that rustles my hair.
‘It was exactly what I needed when I desperately needed it. I love the village. I love saying hello to everyone I pass. Coming back here felt like coming home. I don’t want to lose that, but I’m living on my savings and I’ve got no income coming in.
I’ve got some money set aside but it’s only enough to fix either half the roof or the entire electrics…
which will get fried again if any more water comes leaking through the unfixed roof. ’
‘You ever thought about running it as a pub?’
‘No.’ He pulls back and looks down at me in confusion. ‘What do I know about running a pub?’
‘What do you know about being a builder?’
‘Touché,’ he says with a laugh. ‘Six months’ worth of YouTube tutorials, that’s what. I don’t think there are YouTube tutorials on pub management.’
‘There are YouTube tutorials on everything, you know that. And there are definitely courses in pub management you could take.’
‘But why would I…’ He trails off like the sentence is too ludicrous to complete.
‘Pubs are closing up and down the country because of increased costs. And no one can do anything with it while it’s in this state.
I’m probably breaking health and safety rules in allowing you in here without a hard hat and protective gear. ’
‘It’s not that bad.’ I squeeze his hand. It’s unlikely a ceiling is going to fall on our heads anytime soon. Probably.
‘Besides, you have all the pub’s customers now. The Marzipan Campervan is filling the hole that the Kingfisher Arms left behind, and that’s exactly how it should be.’
‘All we need now is a quiz night… which is something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about…’
I excitedly explain about Wilma mentioning their quiz nights being held in the garden in good weather, and my idea that we could do the same thing in the car park with me serving tea and cake and him hosting.
‘Their team name was The Agatha Quizties, Reece. Tell me that doesn’t deserve a second chance. ’
He laughs. ‘Oh, that’s brilliant, but… are you serious?’
‘Why not? We’ve already proved the space works for bringing people together. We’ve got tables and chairs. I can bake things and serve tea, and you’d make a wonderful quiz host.’
He stares at me like I’ve suggested we take up tiger riding. ‘But I’m the one responsible for taking their quiz nights away – and they don’t know that. Wouldn’t it be a bit disingenuous?’
‘They’d understand if they knew the truth.’
‘Would they? Or would they see someone who makes impulsive decisions based on emotion rather than sense?’
‘They’d see a good father trying to do something wonderful for his son.
’ I squeeze his hand even tighter. ‘The only reason they’re so upset is because they think you’re some heartless second-home millionaire who’s going to leave the place standing empty for eleven months a year and then sweep in for an annual summer holiday.
If they knew you were the owner, someone who’s already part of the village, someone they like, things would be different.
If you hadn’t bought the pub, who knows what would’ve happened to it, but it was never likely to have been kept as a pub.
Maybe this could be a way to change how the villagers see you.
To show them you understand what this place meant to people and that you love this village too? ’
Reece is quiet for a moment before his face lights up. ‘You won’t believe what I found this morning. Follow me. Literally. There are holes in the stairs and I know the least hazardous way down.’
I’d laugh if it wasn’t true and there are, in fact, foot-sized holes in several of the stairs where presumably Reece has put his foot through the woodworm-weakened stair treads.
When we get safely to the ground floor, without letting go of my hand, Reece tugs me until we’re both standing behind the bar and he crouches down to get something.
On the bar, he places a huge leather-bound book. The cover is worn and as soft as velvet, and when he opens it, there are pages and pages of handwritten notes.
‘It’s the Kingfisher Arms’ quiz master’s handbook,’ Reece says as I reach over and carefully turn a page. ‘Complete with five years’ worth of questions, answers, scoring systems and detailed notes on every regular team’s strengths and weaknesses.’
I slide the book nearer to me, and Reece leans closer to look over my shoulder as I turn the pages.
The book is filled with meticulous handwriting, organised into sections by topic and difficulty levels.
There are notes in the margins about which questions worked well and which ones caused arguments.
‘This is incredible,’ I breathe. ‘There’s so much detail. Someone really cared about making these quiz nights special. They must have spent hours every week preparing new questions, researching obscure facts, making sure every quiz was better than the last. Who did this belong to?’
‘Mrs Patchett’s late husband, the grand master of the quiz night,’ Reece whispers, almost like talking loudly would disturb too many old ghosts.
‘And you just happened to find this on exactly the same day I start thinking of hosting a quiz night? Tell me that’s not a sign.’
‘No, it’s been there since I arrived, in a locked box behind the bar, but today I was sorting out the office and I found the key.’
I can’t help laughing, and I can feel my excitement growing.
This really does feel like a sign. ‘This is perfect. Look at all the questions in here that were never used. With these, we could bring back something they’ve been missing, and show the village that you’re not a heartless second-home buyer—’
He goes to protest that they can never know, but I continue before he gets half a sentence out.
‘Just in case they ever find out. This is the kind of place where secrets don’t stay secrets for very long.
And this book has fallen into our laps for a reason.
This is the perfect way to honour what the villagers loved so much while also making it something new and using the Marzipan Campervan Café to do good, which Jared would never approve of. ’
Reece laughs. ‘If I wasn’t sold before, I am now. Maybe it’ll spread the word about the café and bring you loads of extra customers, so yeah, why not? Let’s do it.’
I squeal and throw my arms around his neck and his slide around me and lift me off the floor.
His head drops to rest on my shoulder and his lips brush against the skin of my neck, sending a shiver through me and making my fingers curl into the fabric of his T-shirt.
It would be so easy to lift my head and find his lips with mine, but it hasn’t gone any further than the not-quite-kiss at the waterfall last week, and whatever this is and wherever it’s going, it feels like slow is the right way, and that’s okay by me.
Both of us are laughing and slightly breathless by the time he sets me down.
A couple of months ago, I’d never even considered participating in a pub quiz, never mind getting involved in hosting one, and I’m filled with the feeling that this is either the worst idea I’ve ever had… or one of the best.