Chapter 9
‘Are you sure I won’t get a ticket?’ Saul asked. He was eyeing the street doubtfully. ‘Maybe I should find somewhere else to park?’
The parking in her mum’s street was appalling, and Kazz shook her head. ‘If you move it, you’ll lose the space. If you get a ticket, I’ll pay it.’
He frowned and she guessed that although he was unhappy with the parking situation, he didn’t want to move the Landy and trailer in case he then couldn’t get it close enough when it was time to load up.
‘OK, I’ll worry about it if, and when, a brown envelope lands on my doormat.’ He glanced up at the house and Kazz did too, thinking that this was one of the last times she would see it, because she doubted that she would visit this street again.
It was a mid-terrace property, built at around the beginning of the last century. It had bay windows up and down, topped by pointy gables, and had a recessed porch. The stonework was grimy, but the windows were clean, even if they were the old-fashioned sash variety. Her mum had always been particular when it came to cleaning her windows.
Kazz opened up and Saul followed her inside.
As she watched him gaze around, it struck her how old-fashioned the dark hallway was, with its decades-old wallpaper and cornicing around the ceiling and light fitting. The place was in serious need of modernisation, which would take a substantial chunk of money and time, and Kazz wished that her mum’s landlord had done something about it years ago. She wondered whether he would sell up now that it was vacant, or whether he would finally get around to making it more presentable.
She felt the familiar prickle in her eyes as she realised that when she left today, it would be the end of an era. The last part of her grandparents would be gone – except for Grandad’s books, and they were about to be sold as soon as her shop was up and running.
Saul broke into her melancholy. ‘Tell me what’s staying and what’s coming with us.’
She gave him a smile that she thought might be more of a grimace and beckoned him into the room at the front of the house, which looked out onto the street.
As he stepped inside, he gasped, and she guessed the reason. It was the books. Hundreds of them filled two enormous bookcases that lined one wall, and inbuilt shelves filled with more of them sat on either side of the chimney breast. There was also a gold brocade wingback chair with a saggy seat in front of the fireplace, which used to be her grandad’s favourite, and an enormous sideboard made out of wood so dark that it was almost black. A couple of side tables with lamps on them, and another chair – this in a Chesterfield style – sat directly opposite the first. A large worn rug covered most of the floor.
‘Er… all of it,’ she said.
‘All this?’ Saul’s voice rose an octave.
Kazz knew he would have a job to shift that sideboard, even with her help, and he’d have fun and games with the bookcases too.
‘Yeah. And…’ She screwed up her face and pointed to another door leading off from the hall into the dining room. It had a big old table and six chairs, and it also contained another wingback chair and a settee. And more books.
There were books in the bedrooms – although only one of the rooms had boxes of books stacked to the ceiling – and yet more in the cellar. And when Kazz informed him there was a fair number in the attic, he flinched.
‘I’m not sure we’ll get all this in the trailer. And I’m pretty sure we won’t get everything loaded by midnight.’ He froze, and his eyes widened as he added, ‘You don’t want to bring the beds and wardrobes with you, do you?’
‘Do you think we should?’
‘No! Definitely not!’
Kazz frowned. ‘You’re probably right. I’ve got nowhere to put them, and Mum said to get rid.’ She slapped a hand to her forehead. ‘Damn and blast! I haven’t told my mother what’s going on. I’d better give her a call.’
‘Don’t you think we should make a start on this lot first? You can phone her on the way back.’
‘Good idea.’ She rolled up her sleeves. ‘Let’s get on with it. The sooner we start, the sooner we’ll be finished.’ But she had a feeling that the ‘sooner’ she was hoping for would end up being much, much later.
The trailer was rammed to the rafters but Saul, bless him, had managed to fit in most of the stuff that Kazz wanted to bring with her to Tanglewood. The sofa had to remain behind, but the bookcases had gone in – although it had been touch-and-go for a while, until Saul had discovered they could be divided into two sections. He had even squashed the threadbare rug in by folding it rather than rolling it.
The Landy was also full, and there was barely enough room for Kazz and Saul to get in the front. But it was done, and now she was tired, dirty and hungry, and she suspected Saul felt the same. He had worked his socks off, and she couldn’t thank him enough. What he had done today went above and beyond, and she was incredibly grateful.
Kazz was exhausted and she could barely lift one foot in front of the other as they trudged back inside after loading the last of it. Staggering into the dining room, she slumped onto the sofa.
Saul joined her. ‘Bloody hell, I’m pooped,’ he muttered.
‘Me, too.’
They sat in silence, neither of them moving. Kazz didn’t think she could. That sideboard had been a witch to shift. It had taken them forty minutes to manhandle it through the hall, into the street and onto the trailer. She was dreading unloading it at the other end. Maybe Saul could ask Nick to help? If she hadn’t already checked it was empty, Kazz might have believed that her mum had hidden a body inside – it was heavy enough. Then there were all those boxes of books. She had stopped counting after 103. And that was without all the loose ones. Saul had taken care when loading them, not wanting them to rattle around on the journey home, in case one or two might turn out to be valuable.
‘We’d better make a move,’ he said, staying where he was.
‘I suppose we should.’ Kazz slumped even further into the sofa. ‘Hungry?’ she asked.
‘I’m starving. You?’
‘Famished.’
‘Shall we see if there’s something open before we go?’
Kazz smiled wearily. ‘This is London. There’s always something open.’
Neither of them moved.
‘If you could eat anything at all right now, what would it be?’ Kazz asked.
‘Tagliatelle Marinara.’
Kazz raised her eyebrows. Apart from her lips and the occasional blink, it was the only part of her that had moved for the past ten minutes. ‘I would have put you down as a steak-and-chips guy.’
‘I’ll eat most things,’ he said, ‘but Italian is my favourite. What about you?’
She didn’t reply and reached for her phone. If he wanted Italian, then Italian was what he was going to get. It was the least she could do, considering how hard he had worked today.
After pressing ‘pay’, she waited for the transaction to go through and then dropped her head onto the back of the sofa. This wasn’t the most comfortable settee in the world, and it clearly wasn’t meant for sprawling on, but she was too tired to do anything about the discomfort.
It didn’t appear to bother Saul either, because he lay in roughly the same position as her, except that his eyes were closed.
She gazed at him for a moment, drinking him in and hoping he wouldn’t catch her staring. He looked peaceful, and she suddenly realised he was asleep. So much for him being a strapping farmer used to long hours and hard work, she thought with a smile.
Although, to be fair, it was he who had done the bulk of the carrying and loading. And he had taken most of the weight of the damned sideboard. She wished now that she hadn’t bothered taking it, but she wouldn’t tell him that. Not after all the effort, swearing and brute strength it had taken to get it on the trailer. Then there was the drive itself – busy, unfamiliar roads were bound to take it out of a person, and towing a trailer through London traffic couldn’t have been easy. She would let him sleep for a while; he would need it, considering they had a long drive ahead of them, and he was the one who’d be doing the driving.
Despite her tiredness, she felt a tingle of desire as she gazed at him. His lashes were absurdly long, and his sandy hair was tousled. A hint of stubble on his jaw framed his lips, and she thought how kissable they looked: full but not too full. The skin on his face was tanned – from working outdoors, she assumed – and she wondered how far down his neck and chest the tan went.
He looked so relaxed lying there, sprawled on the sofa, his head tilted to one side, his legs stretched out in front of him. Even in repose, she could see how buff he was; there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, so that meant he must be all muscle under his T-shirt…
Kazz let her breath out slowly, her face flaming as heat rushed into it. Calm down, lady… She needed to get a grip, and a cold shower wouldn’t go amiss, either.
Telling her mum about her situation would be the emotional equivalent, so she carefully eased herself off the sofa. While she waited for their food to arrive, she would give her mum a ring.
She guessed that her mother would be worried when she heard her news, but Kazz hoped she could allay her fears. Knowing that Stevie was helping might put her mum’s mind at rest, hopefully enough to prevent her from catching the next plane back to the UK.
Kazz went into the kitchen to make the call, rolling her shoulders as she went, feeling the stiffness in her neck. She would ache like the devil tomorrow, and she groaned as she realised that she would be lucky to get any sleep at all tonight by the time they got back.
‘Mum, how are you?’ Kazz asked, a lump forming in her throat when she heard her mother’s voice.
‘Brilliant, I’m absolutely brilliant! We’re having tapas in a little bar around the corner from an apartment we looked at earlier. It’s got a lovely south-facing balcony, three bedrooms and three bathrooms. And there’s a pool and a gym. I can’t see myself in the gym, can you? Although I might give the pool a go. What’s the time in London?’
‘Um, nine fifteen.’
‘Aren’t you working today? Ooh, you’d love the food out here; it’s so… Mediterranean . And I’ve discovered that I love chicharrón. And olives! Who’d have thought it!’
Her mum liking chicharrón didn’t surprise Kazz. Mum liked pork crackling and pork scratchings, and although chicharrón wasn’t the same, it was similar enough. But Diana had always refused to try olives, saying that she didn’t like the look of them, and Kazz smiled to think that she liked them now. Moving to Spain had been just the ticket to spice up her mum’s life and encourage her to try new things and broaden her horizons.
And Mum sounded so happy that it warmed Kazz’s heart to hear her. Diana had spent so much of her life struggling to bring her up as a single parent that she deserved some happiness.
Kazz froze. What had she been thinking? How could she worry her mother right now? She should wait until the shop was up and running before she said anything. She would present it as a done deal, and even though Kazz knew her mum would still worry, she mightn’t worry as much .
So instead, Kazz asked about her new life and the apartments that her mum and Vince had viewed, rather than share any details of her own circumstances. It was only the shrill ring of the doorbell that ended the conversation, as Kazz went to collect the food.
The doorbell had also disturbed Saul, who blundered into the hall, bleary-eyed and half-asleep, to find out what was going on. His eyes lit up when he saw the bag and smelled the delicious aroma that had begun to permeate the air.
Kazz had remembered to order some drinks too, and she was looking forward to a cold can of cola. There were some plates and cutlery still left in the house from the breakfast she had cooked for her mum on Friday, so Kazz handed the food to Saul and hurried into the kitchen to fetch them.
‘Eat your dinner before it gets cold,’ she told him as she tucked in hungrily.
Saul didn’t need telling twice and he lifted a laden fork to his mouth. ‘On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate this compared to your own cooking?’ he asked, after he had tasted his first mouthful, a look of bliss on his face.
‘About a five. But it fills a hole.’
‘Stevie says you’re one of the best sous chefs she knows.’ He ate some more before adding, ‘What is a sous chef, exactly?’
‘A sous chef is second-in-command in a kitchen, under the head chef. I am – I was – responsible for managing the kitchen staff, making sure the team is at its best, especially during service.’
‘She also said you’re a fantastic saucier. Am I right in thinking that a saucier makes sauces?’
‘In a way. A saucier is also a position in a kitchen hierarchy, one below the sous chef.’
‘I assume it takes years of training to get where you are?’
‘It does.’
‘Yet you want to give it up to become a bookseller?’
‘I suppose I do, for a couple of months at least. Although, I’m not sure I’m giving it up for good. Once a chef, always a chef.’
‘Will you be sad to leave London?’
‘I don’t know.’ Her reply was honest. She had never lived anywhere else. But maybe it was time for a change. New horizons, and all that.
When Stevie had first moved to Tanglewood, Kazz had shuddered at the thought of not living in London. She loved the vibrancy of the city; there was always something happening, somewhere to go, someplace to see, something to do. It never slept, which suited the lifestyle she had chosen. Tanglewood would be a slower pace of life. It would give her much-needed breathing space, and an opportunity to take stock. And with her mother out of the country, Kazz felt rudderless and adrift. Stevie and Tanglewood offered an anchor and a safe haven. And you never know, she thought, if she liked the place, she might even stay.