Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Every bone in Beth’s body ached. She wished she could conjure up Diana for a relaxing massage, but a hot shower and a nap was the best she could manage. A nap interrupted by thoughts of the pinball machine and Kieran. They weren’t related, but the word ‘wish’ niggled at her brain.
The barbecue had been a success, but not a moneymaker.
‘I think we undercharged, but hopefully newcomers will spread the word and get more punters through the door.’ Those were Ed’s exhausted words before he said an early goodnight.
They’d agreed to close the pub for the evening and the next day. Back to business as usual after that. However, with fresh ideas on board thanks to a suggestion box placed at the pub entrance, The Jekyll and Hyde still had new tricks up its sleeve.
‘A pub quiz. Fantastic.’ Beth flung back the bedcovers. A glance out of the window revealed an overcast sky. Rain forecast for tomorrow and the rest of the week.
Ed and Angela were spending the night with Angela’s son, Jamie, in Edinburgh. ‘He absolutely dotes on Ruairi and he’s a genius when it comes to pub quizzes. Head full of trivia, but he’s the champion of the local quiz league.’
Beth knew that both Angela and Jamie had had a tough time. As an alcoholic single mum, Angela had clawed her way back to sobriety and sanity with Ed by her side. Jamie worked in an Edinburgh clothing shop, had a steady girlfriend and was, by all accounts, a happy young man.
Beth felt twitchy and out of sorts. Part of her wanted to visit the basement. A larger part of her never wanted to set foot in the place again. Diana was right: she’d probably had a concussion which had triggered hallucinations. What other explanation could there be?
‘Right, you don’t need to be moping around here. Get out and explore Cranley.’
Locating a waterproof jacket in case of a shower, Beth headed towards the main street. A few locals smiled as she passed: unfamiliar faces, not that she’d got to know many people yet.
Beth paused outside the boutique, Gale Force, a floral dress with handkerchief sleeves catching her eye.
The entire window display had a summery theme, with a layer of sand strewn with seashells, artfully arranged pastel T-shirts, and delicate silver bracelets and necklaces draped from pieces of driftwood.
‘Hello!’ An elegant older woman greeted Beth as she entered the shop. ‘It’s nice to see a new face. Have you travelled far, or—’
‘I’m Beth. I live here.’ Beth regretted her curt response, but the woman seemed unfazed.
‘Oh, how lovely to meet you! I’m Alison, the owner. Jinnie mentioned that you’d moved here to run the kitchen at The Jekyll and Hyde. I’m sorry I couldn’t make the barbecue, but my dog was poorly and I didn’t want to leave him.’
On cue, a spaniel emerged from behind the counter, looking distinctly down in the mouth.
‘This is Hector, my fur baby. Are you OK with dogs?’
Beth knelt to stroke Hector’s floppy ears. ‘I always wanted a dog’ – and a baby – ‘but my parents weren’t keen and my… Never mind. He’s adorable.’
Taking up Alison’s offer of a cup of tea, Beth browsed the rails. She stroked buttery-soft leather jackets, silky blouses in jewelled hues and lightweight knitwear in a neutral palette.
‘You’re probably wondering how I survive business-wise in a place like Cranley,’ said Alison, placing two cups of tea on the counter.
The thought had crossed Beth’s mind, but she waited for Alison to elaborate.
‘I took over these premises about six months ago. Before, it was Sam Addin’s antiques shop. Jinnie’s husband, that is.’
Beth sipped her tea. Gingery, with a hint of lemon.
‘I did some advertising, word spread, and next thing I’m being featured in a Scottish magazine.’ Alison beamed. ‘Now, customers come from Edinburgh and beyond, or place orders online. My son helped set me up with that side of things, because I’m technologically clueless.’
‘Well done you,’ said Beth. ‘But how do you manage on your own?’
Alison clasped her hands together in a prayer gesture.
Beth noted her perfectly manicured nails, in contrast to her own kitchen-friendly stubby ones.
‘You know the saying, “It takes a village”? In Cranley, people look out for one another. Rose from the pub helps, as does her sister, Caitlin. Jinnie too, and my partner, Janette. Have you met Janette yet?’
Beth stared at the dress in the window. ‘Sorry, what did you say?’
Alison followed Beth’s gaze. ‘Oh, just that Cranley’s a tight-knit community. I moved here when I lost my husband, and it’s changed my life in ways I can’t describe. Now, that dress you’re eyeing up would look fabulous on you!’
Fifteen minutes later, Beth left the boutique with the dress – which did look fabulous on her – and two cute tops in pale blue and gold-threaded green.
‘Not that I’ll be going anywhere special to wear them,’ she mumbled, climbing the stairs to her quarters.
With her purchases stowed away in the wardrobe, Beth made herself a cheese and ham toastie. She’d thought about stopping at the local café, but her reserves of polite chitchat had run dry.
Helping herself to a packet of tomato-ketchup crisps, Beth allowed herself a sly smirk at winding up Kieran. In truth, she loved mayonnaise – or to be more precise, its fancier cousin aioli, with all its garlicky goodness. Oh, and his face when she revealed that the brownies contained black beans!
Beth gave the place a perfunctory tidy. Not that it needed much since Diana’s visit.
Diana and Luke had a lot in common. Both were neat freaks, unable to settle until they’d rinsed the last coffee cup, wiped down every surface, straightened the towels and ensured the toilet roll faced the right way.
Are you like that, Kieran?
Beth gasped at the unexpected thought. What did it matter if Kieran liked things spick and span or dwelt in a pigsty? It was no business of hers.
With nothing else to occupy her, Beth found herself drawn to the basement. No one else was in the pub. It was a chance to lay to rest the nonsense that needed to be swept from her cluttered mind.
Beth approached the silent machine. Silent briefly, then… A faint whirr, one bulb flickering. The right flipper twitched like a dying fish.
‘No. No, no, no. This isn’t happening again.’
‘And yet here you are. Couldn’t stay away, could you?’
Beth shook her head so hard that she felt dizzy. That bang on the head must have done more damage than I thought.
‘Poor Beth. Brain all scrambled. Shame hallucinations don’t usually spit out coins.’
A coin clattered into the return tray.
Beth backed away. ‘You’re not real. You’re … some kind of wiring fault. Dodgy electrics.’
‘Wiring fault? Darling, I pre-date half the sockets in this place. Call me vintage. Oh, and the name’s Gigi, in case you’d forgotten.’
Beth bent hesitantly and picked up the coin.
‘Careful. Coins aren’t just tokens: they bind. Spend one, and you’re in my game.’
Beth swallowed hard. ‘What happens if I walk away?’
Gigi gave a teasing laugh. ‘I’ll wait. Machines are patient. People, not so much.’
Beth watched, mouth agape, as the score display reset, letters forming slowly: B-E-T-H.
‘Oh my God.’ She needed to run, right now. Leave the basement, leave the pub, leave Cranley.
‘Oh, we’re not finished, Beth. We haven’t even started.’
Then the lights went out.