Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Grandpa insisted that I take him along to meet Abi and a few other members of the PTA in the school hall. ‘You will need someone to pass you a paintbrush or two,’ he explained.
‘It might be boring to listen to Abi and me talk about painted scenery; and then I will have to apply a base layer of paint.’
Grandpa shook his head. ‘Robert painted my living room last summer. Now, that was boring.’ I smiled as he put on his coat. ‘Gave a whole new meaning to watching paint dry. Your aunty Karen thought it would be nice for me to sit there as Robert painted my walls magnolia. I might be in my eighties, but I can still entertain myself. Please let me come so I can watch this artwork of yours take shape.’
Harp Brook Church Primary School was on the outskirts of the village. It was easy to find, and the school car park had been cleared of snow. Abi had told me to meet her in the school hall at 6pm, so Grandpa and I made our way there. The walls were covered with children’s festive artwork, Christmas decorations, achievement certificates and photos.
In one corner was a pile of PE mats which reminded me of my school days when my friends and I would do cartwheels instead of practising boring forward rolls as the teacher had asked.
A small group of parents turned around and stared at us. Two of them began whispering to each other and glancing at us. They didn’t come across as friendly as they carried on relaying secret messages to each other. I was sure one of them mentioned ‘Frank Baxter’, which made me silently groan.
Abi appeared and cast us both a huge smile. Her red hair was pulled up into a ponytail and she was wearing black maternity dungarees which struggled to cover her enormous baby bump. ‘Hello, both, come and join me up here.’ She leapt up the three steps which led onto the stage and waved us up.
Grandpa took the steps up to the stage before me and I was about to follow him when I heard someone say in a loud voice, ‘Abi, isn’t there anyone else who can paint the scenery?’
I spun around to see a tall woman with long brown hair standing behind me with her arms folded across her chest. Her face was emotionless and cold.
Abi came to the edge of the stage. ‘Denise, Rachel here is an amazing painter and she’s offered to do it for free.’
‘You know how people feel about her family,’ the woman said, glaring at me.
What the hell did she mean? ‘Excuse me,’ I said, as my face began to heat up.
The woman spoke directly to Abi. ‘I don’t want anyone related to the Baxters painting the set for the play.’
Abi groaned. ‘Denise, we have no one else and the nativity is on Monday.’
I glanced at Grandpa on stage. He was glaring at the woman. An awkward silence descended upon the school hall. Denise rolled her eyes before storming out of the school hall, followed by the group of whispering parents. My plans to grow my outer world were crumbling all thanks to my power-hungry brother-in-law.
‘Rachel, I’m sorry,’ said Abi, gesturing for me to come onto the stage. ‘Denise is the sister of a lady called Vanessa.’
‘Ah, Vanessa, who runs the pub. She’s not a fan of my brother-in-law – right?’
Abi nodded. ‘I try to stay out of town drama.’ She led me over to where the backdrop to the play would need to be.
‘Town drama? Do you know what happened between Vanessa and my brother-in-law?’
Abi wiped her sweaty forehead with a tissue and cast me an awkward look. ‘I just want to make sure the children get to have a nativity play on Monday. My twins are in reception, and this is a big deal for them. As I said earlier, I try my best to avoid town gossip.’ She smiled and rubbed her bump. ‘Once the nativity is out of the way I can concentrate on Christmas and then the arrival of this little one.’
Abi seemed a nice person and this wasn’t the time or place to find out why Frank had squabbled with Vanessa. If I was a betting person, he had probably been rude to her, and she’d taken it badly. I smiled. ‘Let’s get this nativity play sorted.’
The scenery would need to be painted on the giant wooden board which had been erected at the back of the stage. There were acrylic paints and brushes so I would not need to use my own.
Grandpa pulled up a chair whilst I got to work mixing paints to make a rich midnight blue base layer. ‘I’ll do the detail later,’ I explained. ‘I do love rich, colourful night skies.’
Grandpa nodded. ‘It reminds me of the paintings in your flat.’
Abi hung around for a while. ‘What’s it like staying in the manor house?’ she asked. ‘It looks amazing from the little gap in the bushes near the iron gates. We walk past it on family walks.’
‘Far too posh for me,’ I chuckled.
Grandpa shook his head with disapproval. ‘Frank has more money than sense.’
Before Grandpa took command of the conversation, I distracted Abi. ‘How long have you had the bakery and the café?’
‘My father was the baker in Harp Brook. When he died, I took over the family business. The café was Darren’s idea, but I don’t think we can keep it going for much longer. The trouble with Harp Brook is that being so small it needs something to draw visitors to the village. Local businesses like ours are struggling because there’s not enough footfall.’
‘Not even at weekends?’
Abi shook her head. ‘It’s so quiet. Even at weekends. The Harp Brook Inn has stopped serving food as Vanessa’s chef left and it’s only the Nag’s Head doing pub lunches and evenings now.’
‘Where do people eat out in the evening?’
‘There are some great restaurants in the neighbouring towns, and some even go into London as it’s not far on the train. It’s a shame for Harp Brook.’ Abi grabbed her winter coat from the side of the school hall stage and put it on. ‘I better get back to Darren and the twins.’
‘Well, Grandpa and I like it in your café.’
She smiled. ‘Thanks. Make the most of it because in the new year we will close it and stick to being a bakery.’
As she walked away, I felt a pang of sadness for Abi and Darren and their bakery-café.
I decided to let the base layer dry overnight. The caretaker said I come in on Sunday evening and do the detail. Grandpa and I headed back to the Manor House.
‘That woman called Denise was so rude,’ growled Grandpa. ‘I was ready to step in and give her a piece of my mind.’
‘Calm down, Grandpa,’ I soothed, ‘the last thing we need is for you to be dragged into this mess. I think Frank has been rude to Vanessa about her pub and she’s taken offence. After hearing the way Frank spoke to Layla and Ben, I think he rubs people up the wrong way. He’s used to hiring and firing in his big company and maybe he lets that aggressive side of him spill over into his personal life.’
‘He has too much money,’ grumbled Grandpa.