Chapter 3
Chapter Three
‘We’re so thrilled you’re here!’ Angela squashed Beth into a hug. Beth accepted it, reluctantly. She was here to do a job, not become besties with the people who paid her wages.
‘Good to see you again.’ Angela’s partner, Ed, extended a hand instead. Beth noted they both had tattoos. Ed had several, Angela one on her shoulder that said Be Brave. Beth wasn’t a tattoo fan. Although she’d briefly, madly, imagined one that said Failed Mother.
‘The removal men have already put your stuff in your quarters, though not in any particular order,’ said Angela, with a wry smile. ‘But Ed’s here to help you arrange things how you like.’
Ed smiled. ‘We already sorted the bedroom and lounge, as well as the kitchen area. But it’s a bit of a squeeze, sorry.’
‘Please don’t worry,’ said Beth. ‘I should have measured before bringing half my life with me.’
‘There’s a big storage area in the basement which we don’t use,’ said Ed. ‘Anything you don’t need can go in there.’
Angela and Ed insisted Beth eat before unpacking.
‘Ray and Liz left a well-stocked freezer. But the locals will be excited to sample what you conjure up.’ Angela clapped her hands together in glee.
‘I hope I don’t disappoint them,’ Beth said. Her hands twisted in her lap. She was a good cook, she knew that, but lately her confidence had shrunk to the size of a walnut.
‘Don’t be daft. The sample menus you showed us at the interview were amazing.’ Ed looked at Angela, who nodded in agreement. ‘Right, I’ve defrosted some of Ray and Liz’s epic lasagne with a side of garlic bread, if that’s OK with you.’
‘Perfect,’ Beth said, though her appetite had gone the way of her sleep. Still, she’d need fuel to tackle the mountain of boxes upstairs.
They’d just finished eating when a young woman wheeled in a double buggy.
Beth froze. Her stomach lurched, the lasagne turning to lead. Don’t react. She forced herself to breathe, to smile. Seeing babies shouldn’t hurt anymore. But it did.
‘Jinnie!’ Angela shot to her feet, hugging the newcomer. Ed followed at a slower pace. ‘How’s the dynamic duo?’
Beth stayed seated, feigning fascination with her napkin as Angela reached into the buggy and extracted a wriggling child. From here, she couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl. The woman called Jinnie unstrapped a second baby. Dressed head to toe in pink, she’d put money on it being a girl.
‘Beth, say hello to the newest arrivals in Cranley. Oh, apart from yourself, of course.’ Angela cradled the baby close to her chest, her face glowing with unfiltered love.
‘The other new arrival is here, too,’ Jinnie said cheerfully. ‘Kieran, the one connected to Janette from the shop.’
Beth rose, praying her expression stayed neutral. She crossed the short distance to the doting mums, although Jinnie might be a childminder.
‘Beth, this is Jinnie and her gorgeous girl, Dahlia. Jinnie takes care of our wee boy Ruairi four days a week. They were born close together last Christmas, and we’re hoping they fall in love and get married one day.’ Angela giggled and Ed rolled his eyes.
‘We’re actually hoping they both sleep through the night before they turn eighteen,’ he said, taking Ruairi from Angela’s arms and pressing a kiss to his head.
Beth wanted to run. Take off through the pub door and scream into the abyss. Her new life was meant to start today. Screwing it up by acting like a madwoman wasn’t an option.
‘You’re so lucky.’ The words came out before Beth could stop them.
Three pairs of eyes turned to her. For a moment, she thought they could see straight through her. Into the hollow space she carried everywhere.
‘Yes, we are,’ Angela said softly. ‘You look tired, Beth.’
Beth forced a smile. ‘Just the move catching up with me. I’ll be fine once I get some sleep.’
Angela took her arm and steered her gently towards the stairs. ‘Take your time settling in. Supplies will be here first thing, all locally sourced just like you wanted.’
‘Perfect,’ Beth said.
‘And remember,’ Angela added at the doorway, ‘Cranley’s special. Everyone’s kind here. When I hit rock bottom, Jinnie was there for me. Just … take your time, yeah?’
Beth nodded. Her throat was too tight for words.
Beth wearily climbed the stairs to her new home. Every step emphasised her exhaustion. She wondered how she’d cope in the morning, faced with the reality of providing quality pub grub. They’d agreed to start small: a handful of new dishes to tempt the palates of the regulars.
‘But we want to put the pub on the culinary map.’ Beth recalled Angela’s enthusiasm at the interview. Ed had been more low-key.
‘What Angela’s saying is that dining choices are limited in the area. Ray and Liz did an ace job, but your vision will draw in punters from a wider area – fingers crossed – and we can look at expanding.’
Beth admired their energy, but right now hers was hitting an all-time low. She pushed open the door to her living space and sighed heavily at the chaos before her.
Yes, she had a bed, but she needed to find the bedding. Ditto her toiletries and the spreadsheet she’d created for the first few days of catering at The Jekyll and Hyde.
After making the bed and arranging her products in the bathroom, Beth opened her laptop. She’d gone for a themed menu, playing on the Jekyll and Hyde connection and adding a general gothic vibe.
Dr Jekyll’s Venison Remedy: a venison and wild mushroom stew cooked in red wine.
Mr Hyde’s Haggis Bomb: haggis (both regular and vegetarian) croquettes on a neeps and tatties purée, with a whisky peppercorn sauce.
Cauldron Mac: Skillet macaroni cheese tossed with bacon jam and crispy shallots.
Angela and Ed had loved the gothic theme. They’d also insisted on the classics – fish and chips and steak pie – to cater for those with simpler tastes.
Rose, the newly trained kitchen assistant, would help with prep and plating. Beth was grateful. She hadn’t found her rhythm again; maybe shared laughter over peeling potatoes could coax it back.
When the room finally resembled something like home, she cleaned her teeth, tied back her hair and crawled under the duvet. She set her alarm for six thirty.
Sleep, however, refused to come.
Beth popped in her earbuds and opened her meditation app. A calm voice guided her breathing, repeating affirmations she was trying to believe: I am stronger than I realise. I have the power to build a new life. I will allow myself to heal.
The words washed over her.
As her breathing slowed, the ache in her chest eased to something bearable.
Tomorrow is a new day, she told herself. Let the adventure begin.