Chapter Fifteen
Sarah mightn’t have noticed Eloise’s subterfuge, but Bart did, and he smiled to himself.
Underneath the prickly defensiveness and curmudgeonly dislike of Christmas lay a well-meaning, kind soul.
The fact that she’d not left, despite being told Sea View Guest House was going to become a poster for all things festive, spoke volumes about her as a person.
And doing what she’d done just now? Wow!
He’d caught the sales assistant’s meaningful glance at her when she’d told Sarah they didn’t have any other wellies in the correct size, and he’d guessed exactly what the hurried conversation had been about.
He had a feeling Mitch had also guessed.
Not much appeared to get past the guy. Bart wondered whether to say anything to Eloise, but decided against it for fear of embarrassing her.
It was a sneaky move though, he thought admiringly.
“Where next?” he asked, and Eloise clapped a hand to her mouth.
“Silly me! We haven’t finished here yet. Sarah needs shoes too.”
The young woman blanched. “It’s fine; I can pick some up in the secondhand shop.”
Eloise was about to protest, but Bart shook his head—the same trick wouldn’t work twice—and she gave him a tiny nod of understanding; however, there was a look in her eye that told him she wasn’t beaten yet. Bart was eager to see what she was planning on doing next.
“What sort of thing do you want?” she asked Sarah.
“Trainers, I suppose.”
“They’re not waterproof though, surely?”
Sarah shrugged. “Not really, but they’re versatile and comfy.”
“How about a pair of boots? They’d be better at keeping out the wet than a pair of trainers. These are nice.” She held up a sturdy yet smart ankle-high boot. “Or what about this one?” She picked up another.
Sarah’s gaze lingered on the second one, and Bart could tell she liked them. Eloise noticed too, but Sarah said, “I’d still need a pair of trainers and I can’t afford both.” She hung her head as she said it.
“Let’s see what the charity shop has in stock, shall we?”
“I don’t want to buy too much.” Sarah pulled a face. “I’m hoping I’ll be able to get back into my house soon and rescue some stuff. I do have clothes, you know.”
Careful, Bart cautioned silently, and as though Eloise had heard his unspoken warning, she said, “Of course you do, but you can’t get at them at the moment and it might be a while before you’re allowed back in.
How about I give you some money and you can spend it on what you like; then you’ll know exactly how much to pay me back. ”
“I don’t want to take—”
“Neither would I, if I were in your shoes—excuse the unintentional pun,” Eloise interrupted. “But these are unusual circumstances. I’m not expecting you to pay me back tomorrow, or next week, or even next month. Pay me back when you can.”
Sarah thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, thank you.”
Eloise opened her purse and counted out some notes, then held them out.
The girl’s eyes widened. “I can’t take all that.”
“Use what you need and give the rest back to me if you don’t spend it all.”
“Take it,” Bart urged. “Eloise wouldn’t offer to lend it to you if she couldn’t afford it.” He hoped that was true.
Sarah continued to hesitate, then relented when Eloise whispered something in her ear. The girl glanced down at herself, in her mishmash of borrowed clothes, and nodded. She had tears in her eyes as she took Toby’s hand. “I’ll pay every penny back,” she vowed.
“I know you will.” Eloise gently touched her arm. “Come on, let’s get you kitted out.”
The charity shop was familiar territory to both Sarah and Toby, Bart realised when the little boy went running straight to the toy section.
Eloise also seemed at home, and he remembered her penchant for collecting perfume bottles when she headed to the shelves groaning with household wares and ornaments.
“Oh no! I think I’ve left my purse in the shoe shop!” she exclaimed, rummaging in her voluminous bag, a panicked look on her face. She patted her pockets, then rummaged in the bag some more. “I’ll have to go back.”
“Do you want me to go for you?” Sarah asked.
“It’s okay. You stay here. I won’t be a minute.”
“I’ll go, if you like?” Mitch offered, but the only reply he got was a scowl as Eloise hurried out of the door.
She was up to something, Bart thought.
Eloise took more than a minute; she took ten, and she came hurrying back, pink-cheeked and breathless, saying, “Sorry to be so long, I got distracted by—” She stopped abruptly. “Where’s Sarah?”
“Trying a few things on.” Bart was keeping an eye on Toby.
The child was sitting on the floor with Mitch, and the pair were surrounded by toy cars and making brum brum noises.
He didn’t know which of them was the biggest kid, but it was nice to see, nevertheless.
Not many guys would spend their holiday traipsing around the shops with a load of strangers and a small child, and once again Bart wondered what his story was.
Eloise peered at the fitting room, the curtain firmly drawn across it, then took a pair of boots out of her bag. The same boots Sarah had taken an interest in. “Quick,” she said to one of the volunteers manning the shop. “Put a five-pound sticker on this and don’t ask any questions.”
Bart’s mouth dropped open as he realised what she was doing. The sneaky so-and-so!
“She’s already looked at the shoes,” he interjected, keeping his voice down. “She’ll wonder why she didn’t see them.”
“Can you pretend to be putting out new stock?” Eloise asked the assistant. “Please?” she begged. “I’ll explain later.” To seal the bargain, she slipped a ten-pound note into the collection tin on the counter.
Bemused, the woman took the boots from her and nodded, and Eloise let out a sigh. Trying to appear nonchalant, she strolled over to Toby and Mitch and bent down to see what they were doing, leaving Bart to stare after her in admiration.
Eloise Garrett, he thought to himself, you’re a force to be reckoned with.
The curtain swished back, and Sarah stepped out, a pile of clothes draped over her arm. Her gaze went straight to her son, then to Eloise. “Did you find your purse?” she asked.
“I did. Silly me, it was in my bag all along. I should get myself a smaller one. This is far too big; I fill it with too much stuff and then can’t find anything in it.”
“They’ve got a couple of nice bags here,” Sarah pointed out.
“Why don’t you take a look for me,” Eloise suggested, “while I help Toby and Mitch put these cars away? I mean, park them.”
Nicely done, Bart acknowledged, since the bags were next to the shoes, and some were dotted between the pairs of boots and loafers, along with other accessories such as purses, scarves, and belts. He caught the volunteer’s eye and nodded encouragingly.
The woman took the hint. “Excuse me,” she said, brushing past Sarah. “I’ll just make room for these.”
Bart froze, hoping Sarah would notice them.
“New stock?” he asked brightly, sounding to his own ears like a bad actor in a school play. Mitch looked up quickly. He’d also heard the false note.
“They’ve just come in,” the woman said, plonking them on a shelf directly next to the bag Sarah was eyeing. “They would go well with that bag,” she added with a laugh, “assuming they’re your size, of course.”
Oh, they will be, Bart thought. He had no doubt about that. Once again, he had nothing but admiration for Eloise; he just hoped she was able to pull it off this time.
Sarah had a bag in her hand, and when she only gave the boots a cursory glance, Bart smothered a groan of disappointment. Then she did a double take. “Those are nice. They’re a bit like the ones I just saw in the shoe shop.” She put the bag down and examined a boot, turning it upside down.
Bart held his breath as a thought occurred to him, but Eloise had already had the same thought since the sole was sticker-free, and he let it out in a slow hiss of relief.
“They look brand-new,” Sarah observed, and he sucked in his breath again. At this rate he feared he was beginning to sound asthmatic.
The woman didn’t miss a beat, saying over her shoulder as she walked behind the counter, “I love it when donations are in such good condition. Last week we sold a beautiful wedding dress—only worn once.” She chuckled at her joke and Bart joined in, probably with a tad too much forced hilarity.
Sarah cried, “They’re my size, and they’re only ￡4.99!” She grabbed the other boot and looked around.
Bart hurried forward. “Let me take those for you, so you can try them on.” He gestured to the clothes she was holding, and she passed them over.
Letting her get on with the business of boot trying, he wandered up to Eloise and gave her a thumbs-up and a big smile. She showed him her crossed fingers in return.
Mitch got to his feet. “What’s going on?” he murmured.
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with” was all Bart said.
Sarah joined them, wearing the boots. “Do you like them?” she asked, turning her feet this way and that. “I don’t think they’ve ever been worn.”
“Possibly not,” Eloise hedged. “I like them, but do you? You’re the one who’ll be wearing them.”
Sarah nodded, smiling, then she sobered. “I think I’ve spent enough.”
“What have you got?”
“A pair of jeans, a couple of T-shirts, a hoodie, trainers, and now these.” She glanced down at the boots.
Eloise frowned. “You’ll need more than that. How about a coat, for a start? And what happens when the muck monster here decides you’ll look good wearing his tea? You’re going to need at least one more change of clothes, and”—she lowered her voice but Bart heard anyway—“what about underwear?”
Turning away in embarrassment, he went to stand near the door, leaving the women to sort that one out.
But as Bart waited for Sarah to make her purchases, he couldn’t help feeling incredibly thankful that Eloise had decided to stay, because that young lady and her little boy were going to need all the help they could get.
Toby was crabby. The excitement last night, together with all the walking this afternoon and being in a strange place had taken its toll. The little boy was overtired and making sure everyone knew.
Eloise, who had retreated to the sanctity of her bedroom, could hear him whining and grizzling downstairs. She felt sorry for Sarah, but she was used to dealing with it. Eloise wasn’t, and she needed a break before dinner.
Easing her shoes off, she rubbed her feet, then donned her slippers, sympathising with Toby.
She was exhausted, too. Who knew subterfuge could be so tiring!
It had been worth it though: The poor girl didn’t have a penny to her name right now.
Even when she was allowed back in the house, goodness only knows what state it would be in.
Smoke and water damage would have wreaked havoc, and the cleanup could go on for days, if not weeks.
Assuming Sarah gained access before Eloise returned home, she’d help, of course.
She didn’t mind getting her hands dirty.
Over the years, she’d held down all manner of jobs.
Needs must and all that, and she could clearly remember how it felt to have to watch every penny.
At least the pair of them now had enough clothes and toiletries to keep them going for a bit, and Eloise felt rather smug about her fast thinking today.
She didn’t relish being deceitful, but it was in a good cause and she could afford it. Which reminded her…
Eloise withdrew a small notepad and a black calligraphy marker from her bag and began to make a list of all the things Toby had set his sights on.
She would ask Bart to check it over later and add anything he could think of, because she was fairly confident Sarah and her son would be spending Christmas at Sea View Guest House, and the little lad had to have a few presents to open on Christmas morning.
No doubt Sarah had already bought some (if not all) of his gifts, but whether she’d be able to retrieve them, and what state they’d be in if she did, was anyone’s guess.
And Eloise would bet her last pound that Sarah didn’t have any spare pounds of her own to buy more.
Therefore it was down to Eloise. Bart couldn’t be expected to contribute because he was already buying all those extra foodie bits and bobs that Christmas demanded, and they weren’t cheap.
As Eloise maintained, Christmas was overpriced and—
A soft knock on the door brought her to her feet.
Sarah was on the landing. “Bart sent me up to tell you dinner is ready,” she said; then she hesitated and added, “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but he’s in a dither because he assumed you and Mitch were going to eat here at the guest house, and now he’s worried you’ll feel obliged to join us because he’s already cooked it.
I mean, this is your holiday and you’ve probably got plans. ”
“I haven’t got any plans,” Eloise assured her. In fact, Eloise had rather daftly assumed she’d be having dinner here, so she was relieved to discover her assumption was correct, since she couldn’t think of anywhere else she’d prefer to be this evening.