Chapter 23
‘Dolly dear!’ Lettie flaps a hand towards me as I make my way back down the steps. ‘Word in the village is that there was someone up here making a scene. We thought we’d better come and check on you. Is everything okay?’
‘Yeah, of course. It’s fine. I’m fi—’ The genuine concern on their worried faces catches me off-guard, and so does the swell of affection for them.
These ladies are not just quiz-obsessed gossipy villagers.
They’ve shown me nothing but welcoming and acceptance.
They really care – about their village and about me.
They’ve become my friends. Real friends, and I realise I don’t want to lie to them any more.
I don’t want to pretend everything is hunky-dory when it isn’t, and I don’t want to pretend to be someone I’m not.
And as they surround me and fuss over me, I know I can confide in them and they’ll understand, and before I know what I’m doing, the whole story about Jared and the stolen campervan comes pouring out.
‘Good for you, gal!’ Lettie claps me on the shoulder when I finally take a breath after telling them everything about how I came to have the campervan.
‘I bloody well knew I liked you, lass!’ Wilma guffaws. ‘That is brilliant! Well done, you!’
‘Exactly!’ Madge echoes. ‘Although I wouldn’t have stopped at taking his campervan, I’d have had his manly bits as well!
’ She mimes chopping a certain appendage off with an imaginary meat cleaver, and I snort out a semi-hysterical giggle, surprised by their reaction.
I knew it would change the way they saw me, but I didn’t think it would be for the better.
‘You don’t think I’m a criminal? I’m not the upstanding businesswoman you thought I was.’
‘Oh, of course you are!’
‘We knew you were hiding something, but we didn’t know it would be something so fabulous! You should have come to us ages ago, we could’ve helped!’
At first I think Wilma means about the money, but then she clarifies. ‘We know all the best places to bury a body. He would never have been found.’
I laugh, nervously. I’m almost entirely sure they’re joking.
Somewhere in the course of this conversation, one of them has gone inside the van and brought out a folding table and I’ve been bundled downwards into sitting on a chair at it, and I have no memory of getting here.
‘We said there was something off about that strange man we just passed swaggering towards the village, didn’t we?’ Lettie glances at the other two. ‘Was that him?’
‘Yeah, he got what he wanted. Reece stepped in and rescued me. He’s paid for the van, which he couldn’t afford to do, and now we’re both…
’ I trail off. What are we? I feel so guilty about what he’s done and the impact it will have on his plans for the pub, and those feelings are warring with how grateful I am as well, along with annoyance that he didn’t give me a choice in what was happening, and I’m sure that this will change everything between us.
When money gets involved in relationships, especially a sum that large, things rarely end well.
‘He obviously thinks you’re worth it,’ Madge says gently, and the others echo agreements that sound heartfelt and true, and it gives me a warm feeling inside, which whirls around and battles with the nausea and existential dread.
‘You’re worrying too much.’ Lettie tries to reassure me. ‘The universe has a way of sending you to exactly where you’re supposed to be, and you were always supposed to be here, and so was Reece, and that van was never supposed to be anywhere else but with you.’
‘And look what you’ve made of it.’ Madge bangs a hand down on the table hard enough to vibrate through all four of us.
‘Something wonderful that brings people together and has given our community back its heart, but even better than it was before. You’ve made it a real little home and a little business.
Certainly more than he would have ever done with it. ’
I appreciate their endorsement, even though I’m not sure that’s a reasonable justification for theft.
Madge bustles off inside the van and returns with four cups of tea, and I find one placed into my hands and her fingers hold mine around it, like it’s a freezing-cold day and not 10 a.m. on a sunny early-August morning.
When she lets me go, I close my eyes and take a sip and let it warm me from the inside as well, and for a moment, it’s easy to forget about everything that happened this morning… but then I open them again and it all comes rushing back. I let out a groan. ‘What am I going to do about Reece?’
‘You’ll pay him back.’ Lettie pats my arm.
‘We’ll do our bit to ensure business stays booming, don’t you worry about that.
We’ll put in a good word with every tourist we see, and now everything’s above-board, you can get some flyers and business cards printed out and I’ll put them in the shop and give one to every customer. ’
‘That’s lovely of you, lovelier than I deserve, but it’s not enough.
It won’t be quick enough. He’s given up the money he had left to fix the roof.
Without it, the pub will get even more damaged and he’ll be forced to sell, and…
leave.’ I get stuck on that word again. The heart-shattering idea of Reece actually giving up on the Kingfisher Arms and having no option but to sell it and go elsewhere, and it all being my fault for carrying on with this campervan farce when I knew full well that I should have returned it to Jared immediately.
‘He’ll be forced to sell?’ Wilma raises an eyebrow.
Oh, sweet niblets. I hear Reece’s voice saying that in my head, but never has a phrase been more appropriate.
I got so lost in what I was saying that I forgot what I was saying.
‘No, er, his boss, of course. On his behalf. He… um… er…’ I try to splutter out an explanation, but my mind has gone blank with panic at accidentally sharing too much.
Lettie takes pity on me first. ‘It’s okay, Dolly. We know.’
‘Know what?’ I know from her tone exactly what she means, but I decide to play it safe. I’ve made enough mistakes today already, and these ladies are clever enough to win pub quizzes; they’re definitely clever enough to trick me into sharing something I shouldn’t.
Wilma gives me a look that openly says no matter how clever I try to be, I’ll never outfox her. ‘We know there is no boss. We know it’s Reece who owns the pub. We’ve always known, since before he even arrived.’
‘What?’ I say in surprise. ‘Does he know you know? No, wait, of course he doesn’t know.
How do you know that? And why are you pretending you don’t?
Why are you going along with the mysterious boss story?
’ The more I think about it, the more confusing this gets.
‘I thought you thought you were going to sculpt Jake Gyllenhaal naked!’
‘It’ll have to remain a pipe dream for now.’ Madge sounds so solemn that it makes me laugh.
‘One day, my friend, one day.’ Wilma consoles her with an arm pat.
If Jake Gyllenhaal ever does happen to venture into this tiny Yorkshire village, he’s going to quickly venture straight back out again, I know that much.
‘What we can’t work out is how neither of you have realised that Mrs Patchett would’ve told us the name of the person who bought the pub,’ Lettie says.
‘I thought that would’ve been confidential information!’
‘You’ve been here long enough to know now, Dolly dear, that nothing is confidential in Thimblenouth.’
Now that really is something that’s true, and I’m still not sure yet if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. ‘You have to tell Reece that you know.’
‘Oh, no, absolutely not. Where would be the fun in that?’ Wilma frowns at me over the top of her glasses.
‘We’ve been waiting for him to trust us enough to tell us himself,’ Lettie adds.
‘But you’ve been so angry about the pub closing and losing the quiz nights. There are banners demanding he get out! He thinks you all hate him!’
‘We were angry,’ Madge admits. ‘At first. But then we got to know him. We watched him struggle with those renovations and saw how hard he’s trying to fix the place up. Whatever his reasons for buying it, his heart’s in the right place.’
‘Between you, you’ve given us back our quiz nights,’ Wilma points out. ‘And between us, he’s changed since you arrived. He’s been much more willing to engage with the community. He was isolated up here before, but now he’s more open and he’s getting involved with everything.’
‘We could never hate him. That boy has been trying single-handedly to renovate a building that’s been falling down for decades. He’s plainly in way over his head, but he’s not given up. That takes guts.’
‘Yes, it does.’ I agree with Lettie, but I can’t help thinking about how much he deserves to hear their real feelings about him, and how surprised he’d be by all this.
‘We Yorkshire folk don’t judge a person by their mistakes – we judge them by what they do to put them right. And that goes for both of you.’
I’m fighting to hold back tears again, overwhelmed by their kindness and acceptance.
I’ve spent so many months thinking that if anyone knew the truth, everything I’ve built here would crumble.
It never crossed my mind that they’d offer tips on body-burying instead, and I have no idea how I’ll manage to not tell Reece all this, or why they’re so keen to keep it a secret.
‘Right then. Enough sitting around and wallowing.’ Wilma stands up briskly and surveys the car park. ‘Let’s sort this place out. You need more bunting – I’ll sew you some while I’m watching telly this evening.’
‘And more solar lights too,’ Lettie says. ‘Make it look pretty and inviting, I’ll order some and put them in the shop.’
‘First things first, these prices need to change.’ Madge disappears inside the van and returns with my menu board. She scrubs off my prices and uses the stick of chalk to rewrite them. ‘Fifty pence for tea and seventy-five pence for cake is an insult to your work.’
‘But people might not pay mor—’
‘Nonsense. What you serve here is better than what you’d get anywhere else for five times that price,’ Wilma declares. ‘You undervalue yourself, dear.’
Madge changes the board so I’m now charging a pound for every cup of tea, and two pounds for every piece of cake, and nods in satisfaction. ‘Worth every penny.’
Even though I fear customers will baulk at the increase, I’m heartened by their belief in me, and I do have to raise the funds to pay Reece back, and fast.
Lettie studies my face as I watch Madge clatter the chalkboard back inside. ‘You’ll work out the money situation in time, but what you need for that young man right now is a Yorkshire curd tart recipe.’
‘It’ll take more than a tart recipe to fix this.’
‘Possibly, but you can’t beat it for a starting point.’
Even though I like the way she thinks, it still feels beyond my abilities, and I don’t think any form of tart can adequately thank Reece for what he’s done today. ‘I don’t know how to make them. Until a few months ago, I’d never even heard of one.’
‘I happen to have the perfect recipe saved for a beginner. Give me your phone.’
I’m still wearing the pyjamas I was wearing when Jared knocked, and I dig it out of the trouser pocket where I’d snatched it from his fingers, and Lettie transfers the recipe to me, while Madge rummages through my cupboards to check I’ve got the right ingredients.
It seems like they’re not going anywhere until I actually make a start on the recipe, with three expectant faces watching on.
I try to find the words to thank them for their kindness and acceptance and for not making me feel ashamed as I start measuring flour and butter for the pie crusts, and my hands gradually stop shaking.
This is what I do in times of stress, when everything feels overwhelming – I bake, like I did with my grandma when I was younger and my parents were fighting.
There’s something soothing about the familiar rhythms of transforming simple ingredients into comfort food that comforts me as well.
While I mix cottage cheese with butter, sugar, eggs and spices, they question me about everything I know about the state of the pub and what Reece is struggling with the most, and when they’re satisfied with their work, they leave me waiting for the pastry cases to blind-bake, with a promise of seeing me tomorrow for quiz night, another warning not to tell Reece what they know and a suspicious look between all three of them that suggests they’ve got something up their sleeves, and I’m not going to be privy to what it is.
As I watch the curd tarts bake, I realise something fundamental has changed in me.
I’m not carrying these secrets alone any more.
These unexpected friends know the truth about both me and Reece, and the carefully constructed buffer he’d built between himself and the villagers’ anger is unneeded, and I can only hope that’s enough to help repair the damage that’s been done.
Because the thought of Reece struggling alone with his impossible renovations, having given up everything to help me, feels like a weight I’ll never be able to lift.