Chapter 16
Fiona had no clue about plants. All she knew was that she liked some, but wasn’t keen on others. Molly’s mum Teresa, on the other hand, was a veritable font of gardening knowledge, so Fiona was more than happy to let her take charge of planting up the raised beds. And while she was doing that (with Bill’s help) her husband and Jack were putting the final coat of paint on the cafe’s interior.
Duncan, Molly’s dad, had set up a camping stove (albeit a fancy one) and Fiona was outside the cottage (located there so she didn’t get in the way) and making wraps by frying a chicken and vegetable mixture in a wok, to feed to those people who had turned up to take part in Strictly Come Planting.
Molly had somehow managed to persuade several local companies to sponsor a flower bed, and she was busy organising teams of people to take responsibility for each of the beds.
Fiona was still in the dark about where the wood for the raised beds had come from (it had appeared outside the cafe on Tuesday, having been delivered by the DIY store), but she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Anyway, she had her suspicions, because Bill hadn’t seemed in the least bit surprised to see it and had set about transforming the planks of treated wood into the raised beds that now bordered both sides of the cafe’s outdoor seating area.
He had only needed a bit of help, which had mostly entailed Fiona holding something whilst Bill drilled or hammered it. Once or twice she’d been asked to steady a length of wood as Bill sawed it, but her input had been minimal. So she’d taken it upon herself to keep him supplied with coffee and food.
It had taken three days to construct the raised beds, and Fiona could tell that by the end of it, he was tuckered out, although he wouldn’t admit it. She had enjoyed watching him work, noting how meticulous he was, how organised and methodical, and as he’d measured and sawed, nailed and sanded, he had regaled her with stories of his adventures at sea.
For her part, she had shared her own stories of running the cafe, and she’d also told him all about David and her grandchildren. David had called in to see her a couple of times since he’d helped her drop her unwanted items at the church hall ahead of the jumble sale, and she was going to his house for Sunday lunch tomorrow, which she was looking forward to.
She wondered what Bill would be doing tomorrow, and it briefly crossed her mind to ask David whether she could bring Bill with her, but she decided against it. It had too many ‘meeting the family’ vibes about it, and as she and Bill had spent almost every day together so far this week, a break would do her good. Why that was, Fiona wasn’t prepared to examine too closely for fear of what she might discover; because she already suspected that her soft spot for Bill had grown considerably bigger over the past few weeks.
Her gaze lingered on him as she expertly tossed the wok and its mouth-wateringly aromatic contents, her attention on him, rather than what she was doing.
‘Penny for them?’ Madeleine asked, making her jump.
‘Gosh, you scared me. I didn’t see you.’
‘You looked miles away,’ the woman said. ‘I’ve come to see if you need a hand. The kids are with their grandma arguing over the best place to put our cotoneaster. It’s looking a bit sorry for itself, but I’m sure it’ll soon perk up.’
Fiona thought it probably would. The garden centre on the outskirts of Sweet Meadow had very kindly donated quite a few plants, as had several of the locals, and they’d brought many plants with them today. Molly and her mum had bought the rest with the sponsorship money, and Reuben had made plaques to go in the respective beds with the patrons’ names on.
Madeleine was saying, ‘It’s been stuck in a pot for years, the poor thing. It’ll grow too big to put in our garden, so I was wondering what to do with it. I’m so pleased to be able to bring it here today.’
‘It should have a nice life in the park.’ Fiona glanced at a nearby bed. ‘I think quite a few people had the same idea.’
Madeleine’s attention was on the cafe. ‘It’s not long before it’s open. It’s looking good.’
Fiona was bursting with pride. ‘It is, isn’t it? We’re so pleased. It’s a bit nerve-wracking, if I’m honest, but I’m sure I’ll get into the swing of things again.’
She took the wok off the heat and used a thermometer to check that the chicken was cooked. Perfect.
‘Do you want to give everyone a shout?’ she asked Madeleine. ‘And if you could help with the drinks that would be great. No coffee machine today though, because I didn’t want to get in the painters’ way. I’m sure people can do without a latte or an Americano just this once.’ She lowered her voice when she saw who was approaching. ‘Maybe not her, though.’
Madeleine grinned. ‘Glenys? Probably not. She can be a bit particular.’
Downright annoying, Fiona thought. The woman did have a heart of gold though, despite her overbearing ways. If ever you were in need, Glenys would be there for you. All Fiona prayed was that she would never be in a position where she needed Glenys’s help.
Wincing, she hoped it didn’t make her a bad person to think so negatively about someone who spent her days helping others.
Glenys cried, ‘It’s nice to see such a good turn-out.’ Her eyes flickered towards Bill. ‘Still working poor Bill to the bone, I see!’
Bill’s hands were buried in soil up to his wrists.
‘He’s his own man,’ Fiona retorted. ‘If he didn’t want to do it, he wouldn’t.’
‘The problem is, Bill is like me; he can’t bring himself to say no.’
Fiona blinked. She wouldn’t have described Bill in that way. He very much kept himself to himself, or he had until recently. As far as Fiona could tell, Bill had always been a bit of a loner. Since he’d returned to Sweet Meadow, he had never placed himself in a position where saying no was an option, and if she were a betting person she would bet her last penny that he had no problem speaking his mind and refusing to do something he didn’t want to do.
‘Anyway, I must dash,’ Glenys said.
Glenys was always dashing somewhere, Fiona grumbled to herself, as the woman continued, ‘I only popped into the park to see what all the fuss was about. Oh, and to have a quick word with Bill.’ She began to walk away, then paused. ‘When does this cafe of yours open?’
‘Next Saturday.’
‘Ah, yes, I remember. There’s going to be an official opening ceremony, isn’t there?’
‘There is. The mayor is cutting the ribbon.’ Although in her opinion, it should be Molly doing the honours.
Glenys nodded once then turned on her heel and tottered off towards Bill, Fiona following her progress with narrowed eyes. She wished she could hear what they were saying, but they were too far away; besides, news that the chicken wraps were ready had got out, so Fiona very quickly had a queue of hungry gardeners.
She didn’t have an opportunity to speak to Bill until much later, when everyone was walking through the meadow towards the pond.
‘The raised beds look fantastic,’ she said. ‘You must be thrilled.’
‘I am. Teresa’s got green fingers. She knows which plants look good together. I’m only good with vegetables. There are herbs mixed in with the cosmos and the geums. You’ll be able to pick fresh parsley and put it straight into the sandwiches. After giving it a wash first,’ he added with a laugh. ‘And I’ve planted some spinach as well.’
‘You’ll be glad to have more time to yourself once the cafe is up and running. Your garden must be missing you.’
‘My garden is fine. Anyway, I’m supposed to be one of the volunteers; you can’t get rid of me that easily.’ He gave her a gentle nudge with his elbow. ‘That reminds me, Glenys is going to volunteer a couple of afternoons a week. Isn’t that kind of her?’
‘I’m surprised she can find the time.’
‘You know what they say – if you want something done, ask a busy person.’
Fiona let out an exasperated sigh. Trust Glenys to want to get in on the act. However, Fiona wasn’t in any position to object. She was fully aware that the cafe would need all the help it could get, and that volunteers didn’t grow on trees.
Bill hadn’t finished extolling Glenys’s virtues. ‘She’s even offered to draw up the rota, but I told her to speak to Molly about that.’
Fiona clenched her jaw. No doubt Glenys intended to put herself on the same shift as Bill. ‘That’s nice of her,’ she forced out through stiff lips.
‘She also suggested doing some of the baking, to give you a break.’
‘I don’t need a break. Anyway, I didn’t know she could bake.’
‘She says she’s pretty good. Not in your league of course, but she claims to make a mean Welsh cake. I’ll let you know after I’ve tasted one.’
When would that be, she wondered. Was that what Glenys had wanted to speak to him about – tasting her Welsh cakes? Fiona snorted. She’d not heard it called that before.
As they neared the pond, Bill began to say, ‘She asked me to lunch tomorr—’ but Fiona cut him off.
‘Have a nice time,’ Fiona snapped. ‘I’m going to my son’s.’
‘Oh. Right. You’ll enjoy that. I was going to—’
‘There’s Reuben.’ She interrupted him for a second time, not wanting to hear details of his lunch with Glenys.
Reuben was standing on a rock at the far end of the pond, and he was holding a piece of wood with a plaque on it. At his feet lay a wooden stake and a mallet. Liam was standing next to him, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot as though moving to music which only he could hear. The boy was obviously embarrassed.
Reuben cleared his throat loudly to shush the assembled crowd. ‘Hi guys, thanks for coming to our pond naming ceremony. The pond is being named after the newt who saved it from being filled in—’
‘I’ll fill you in, if you don’t hurry up,’ Liam interjected, earning himself a laugh. The shuffling increased.
Looking at him, swaying from side to side, was making Fiona feel seasick.
Reuben took the hint. ‘Without further ado, I name this pond Tiny’s Pond! May it be home to loads of little Tinys.’ He handed Liam the plaque.
Liam tried to tug it out of Reuben’s hand, but Reuben refused to let go, insisting on posing for a photo of the two of them together with the plaque. That was followed by another awkward moment when Reuben gave Liam the stake and the mallet, and Liam was left holding all three items until Reuben relieved him of the plaque, in order for the boy to ceremoniously hammer the stake into the ground.
Two hammer strikes later, and the lad was bored. ‘You finish it off,’ he said to Reuben, thrusting the hammer at him and snatching the plaque back.
Thankfully, Reuben made short work of erecting the stake, and he swiftly screwed the wooden plaque into place. Liam stayed long enough for a photo of him standing next to it, then he was gone, Connor with him, leaving the rest of the gardening squad to return to the cafe at a more sedate pace, because Fiona had a final offering of refreshments and cake to serve before everyone was done for the day.
She and Bill were halfway across the meadow when Glenys caught up with them.
‘That was a champagne moment if ever I saw one,’ Glenys said. ‘Pity I’ve only got the one bottle.’ She threaded her arm through Bill’s.
He caught Fiona’s eye, opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again as Glenys leant into him and lowered her voice. ‘We’ll have to have our own private pond naming ceremony, don’t you think?’
Fiona didn’t wait to hear what Bill thought. She stalked off as fast as her sensible-shoe-clad feet would allow, quickly outpacing Glenys who was wearing platform sandals and who was hanging onto Bill for dear life as she tottered through the long grass.
If Bill was silly enough to fall for Glenys’s simpering ways, then Glenys was welcome to him!
***
It was getting to the point where Bill was seriously considering giving the park a miss for a couple of days. Lately, every time he ventured into it, whether it was to take Patch for a walk or to do something in the cafe, he happened to bump into Glenys. He had gone from hardly seeing anyone on his twice – occasionally thrice – daily constitutionals, to the place becoming a veritable highway, and this Sunday morning was no exception.
Sometimes there were more people inside its gates than on the high street, he grumbled to himself, as he spied Glenys leaving through the main gate, and making sure to hang back until she was out of sight.
And the situation was only going to get worse as the park became a nicer place to visit.
Bill knew he shouldn’t grumble. He had complained for years that the park needed upgrading and a large shot of TLC, but in some ways he missed the peace and quiet.
During the day, that is; the park at night used to be noisier than a pop concert.
In some respects, it still was as it continued to be a magnet for teenagers in the evening, but although they carried on consuming alcohol (and goodness knows what else) at least they had stopped flinging their rubbish everywhere.
Aside from them, people tended to linger in the park now, and it was no longer the realm of dog walkers and those who wanted to take a shortcut to the top end of town. It was common to see runners jogging along its paths, mums with young children out for a stroll, and older people too, as well as youngers kicking a ball around on the field.
And Glenys. He didn’t mind Glenys – he rather admired her – but she was a bit too in-your-face for his liking. He thought her willingness to help anyone and everyone was exemplary, but he found that being in her company was hard work. When she’d accosted him yesterday (accosted was the right word) he’d had hell’s job persuading her that he didn’t want to go to hers for lunch today. He very much appreciated the offer (it was extremely generous of her) but he had rather been hoping to spend the day with Fiona. Unfortunately, Fiona had other plans.
To Bill’s surprise, the door to the cafe was wide open and a white van was parked outside. Curious, he drew closer, hoping it wasn’t anything to worry about, and breathed a sigh of relief when Jet dashed out to greet him and Patch, because the dog’s presence meant that Molly or Jack wasn’t far away.
When he stuck his head inside the door, he saw the pair of them, together with another chap around Jack’s age, arranging the wrought-iron chairs and matching tables.
Molly beamed when she saw him. ‘I thought we’d bring the furniture back. Fiona will probably rearrange it, though.’
‘No doubt.’ Bill chuckled. To him, they looked good where they were, but he wasn’t the cafe expert.
Molly said, ‘We’ve got the donated freezer and fridge too, so they’re plugged in and ready to go. All we need now are the boxes of china and stuff from Fiona’s house, and to hang the curtains. We could pop round there now.’ Molly glanced at Jack and his mate, who nodded.
‘She’s not in,’ Bill said. ‘She’s gone to her son’s for lunch.’
‘Never mind, we’ll catch her later today or one evening in the week. It won’t take long to get the rest of it sorted.’
Now that the tables and chairs were in situ, the place was beginning to look like a proper cafe. He knew Fiona would be delighted to see it coming together, and he couldn’t wait to see her face.
***
Laura, David’s wife, always cooked a lovely Sunday lunch, and today was no exception. Sometimes Fiona wondered whether her daughter-in-law felt the need to impress her whenever she was invited to lunch (or any other meal, for that matter), because she always pulled out all the stops.
Laura and their eldest, Ben, were vegetarians, so Fiona hadn’t been expecting a traditional Sunday roast, but the roast beef that Laura served was absolutely delicious. There were honeyed parsnips to accompany it, and the most gorgeous cauliflower cheese. But despite enjoying the meal immensely and revelling in the company of her son and his family (the grandchildren, especially) a part of Fiona’s mind was on Bill and what he was having for lunch. She hoped it wasn’t Glenys.
Chiding herself for such catty thoughts, Fiona tried to put Bill to the back of her mind for the rest of the day, and she might have succeeded if he hadn’t turned up on her doorstep a mere half-an-hour after David had dropped her off.
‘Bill, hello.’ He was the last person she expected to see this evening.
‘Did you have a nice lunch?’ he asked.
‘Yes, thanks. You?’
‘Bloody lovely, even if I do say so myself. I had—’
‘Sorry to interrupt, Bill, but I’ve only just got home.’
‘Oh, right, I see. I won’t keep you, then. I just wanted to tell you that Molly and Jack have put the tables and chairs in, and the curtains are up. I thought you might like to take a look, but it’ll keep until tomorrow. Come on, Patch.’
‘Wait a sec. You mean take a look now? ’
‘Well… yes. You do have a set of keys, don’t you?’
‘I do. Wait there.’ She nipped into the kitchen to fetch her coat from the cupboard under the stairs, and stuffed her feet into a pair of slip-on shoes. ‘Let’s go,’ she announced, locking her front door.
It was pointless being cross with Bill, she decided, and she also wanted a gander at the cafe now that the furniture was in it.
‘Are you sure? I mean, if you’re too tired—’
‘I am not too tired.’ Had Glenys been filling his head with rubbish about her not being able to cope, and that the cafe might be too much for her?
‘Of course you’re not. I just meant that you can see it tomorrow, or the next day. Or whenever.’
‘Has Glenys seen it?’
Bill faltered. ‘No. Why would she?’
‘I thought she might have been with you, but I expect you probably popped in on your way to or from her house.’
‘I haven’t been to Glenys’s house.’
‘Oh?’ Fiona’s heart skipped a beat. ‘You had lunch out, did you?’
‘I ate at mine.’
‘You cooked lunch for Glenys? ’ Fiona failed to keep the incredulity out of her voice.
Bill’s expression was one of bewilderment. ‘Why would I do that?’
It was Fiona’s turn to be confused. ‘I thought you and Glenys were having lunch together?’
His face cleared. ‘She asked, but I politely declined.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Fiona pulled herself together and changed the subject by saying, ‘I can’t wait to take a look at the cafe now that it has its tables and chairs back.’
But the lightness in her heart and the relief she felt on knowing that he hadn’t spent the day with Glenys, lingered well into the evening.