Chapter Eight
The box of books dropped from his hand and crashed to the floor. ‘Fuck.’
Gage could weep with frustration. The last time he’d shed a tear had been at Farmer’s funeral and before that it had been on the dismal night he’d lain wide awake in a hospital bed in Plymouth, waiting to find out if the doctors could save his leg.
He’d had far less of an emotional reaction the year before all of that when his marriage had finally crossed the finish line, probably because it’d been creeping slowly in that direction for most of its short life.
Tamara burst through the shop door and her bright blue eyes blazed with fury. ‘Did you seriously sneak out and hobble all the way down here from my house on crutches?’
‘It’s not far. I’ve done worse. Usually with a heavy pack on my back.’ He’d avoided taking his pain medicine this morning to keep his head clear, but was regretting it now.
‘Didn’t you hear the magic word the doctor said? Rest.’ She spelled it out in shouty capital letters.
Tossing back one of his usual clever sarcastic answers seemed unwise.
‘What were you trying to do anyway?’ She pointed to the box at his feet.
‘Shelve books.’ Gage ran his fingers through his spiky hair, which was edging past regulation length now. ‘Epic failure.’
‘I saw your Instagram and TikTok posts. November eighth is the big day?’
He grunted. ‘It’s supposed to be, but that’s not happening, is it?’
‘Why not?’
She seriously had to ask? Being bubbly and positive was one thing, but sometimes facing reality was the only way.
That’s what he’d been forced to do after the doctors had done their best to pin his knee back together using bolts and titanium plates, along with the caveat that no reconstructive surgery or intense physio would ever restore it to normal strength.
‘I’m not being a Pollyanna and I’m not stupid,’ she said fiercely.
‘I never said you were!’
‘You could push back the opening or you could accept help.’
‘I suppose I—’
‘You promised you’d let me tell him!’ Becky burst in, eyes flashing with anger. For some reason it was focused on Tamara.
‘And I’ve kept that promise.’
Gage backed off. He had no idea what was going on, but dealing with crutches was hard enough without the risk of being knocked off balance by two angry women.
Becky’s cheeks turned ruddy. ‘I saw the two of you having a good old chinwag and I thought . . .’ Her shoulders sagged and her chin drooped.
‘You were wrong. I’ll go and leave you to talk.’
‘No, stay.’ Becky looked embarrassed. ‘I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m a bit on edge, that’s all.’
‘How about I put the kettle on?’ Gage hoped that was a safe-enough offer.
‘I’ll do it,’ Tamara said decisively. ‘You two sit.’ She dragged a couple of chairs out from behind the counter. ‘Go on.’
If she’d somehow wriggled the story of their connection out of Becky, why hadn’t she said something to him already?
Once he’d manoeuvred around and lowered himself gingerly into the chair, he dropped the crutches beside him on the floor.
‘What’s going on, Becky?’ he asked. ‘Do people know about us?’ When she glanced at him, there were tears in her eyes and her brief nod sent his stomach plummeting. ‘That’s not down to me.’
‘I know, my love.’ A heartfelt sigh slipped out. ‘I put my foot in it at the shop yesterday after I saw you looking so poorly. Couldn’t help it.’
Gage covered her cold hand with his own. ‘Don’t apologise for caring.’ His voice cracked. ‘This is all my fault and I’m sorry. Really sorry.’
‘You’ve nothing to be sorry for. I shouldn’t be such a stubborn old fool.
Lies always get found out.’ Becky’s brave smile touched him.
‘Tamara’s been a good friend since we were little girls in white knee-high socks together, so I dumped it all on her at the pub last night.
She’s a plain speaker and she told me what I needed to hear.
Said if I didn’t tell the truth now, people would speculate and that’d be worse. ’
‘Makes sense. How did your family take it?’ he asked warily.
‘Worried myself in a tizzy about nothing, didn’t I? I’m a proper numpty sometimes. Paul wasn’t that bothered. Said it were my dad’s mistake, not mine.’ Blobs of heat lit up her cheeks. ‘Not that I’m calling you a mistake.’
It wasn’t the first time he’d been called that, but she didn’t need to feel any worse by him saying so. The number of conversations he’d overheard between his parents, blaming each other for his existence, was nobody’s business.
‘What about your children?’
‘They think it’s cool. That’s youngsters for you. In their eyes, it makes me not so boring and they can’t wait to meet their new uncle.’
Gage was speechless. He’d wanted this for so long that the effect of it being within reach was overwhelming.
‘We all want you to come to Sunday lunch soon.’
‘I’d love to.’ He picked up Tamara’s perfume before her soft footsteps.
‘Is everything—’
‘Everything’s great,’ Gage said to reassure Tamara.
‘I’m glad.’ She set the tray on the counter and passed each of them a mug before taking the last one for herself.
‘Vernon Bull will think it’s Christmas and Easter rolled into one when this spreads around,’ Becky said with a wry smile.
‘I’ve got to get off to work now, or Pixie will skin me, but I’ll be done by three.’ Tamara jumped up.
‘She’s the best baker around,’ Becky said with a warm smile. ‘Always gives everyone in our book club a Christmas cake, she does. And her mince pies put any of the so-called fancy ones you can buy to shame. Got a proper light hand with pastry, she has. Melt in the mouth, they do.’
Tamara’s flushed face told Gage that she didn’t accept compliments well.
‘I should warn you that your sister is a great one for exaggerating. I’m off.
We’ll talk later about how you can get this place open in time.
’ She gave him an arch look. ‘Unless you’ve had enough of my place after one night and think sleeping in a chair here is a better option? ’
His cheeks heated. ‘I’ll be grateful if you can put up with me until I’m mobile again.’
‘I’ll probably survive.’ A hint of amusement played around the edges of her mouth.
Once the door closed behind her, Becky threw him a puzzled look. There was no alternative but to explain the situation. He got the sinking feeling he knew which side his sister would come down on, and it wouldn’t be his.
‘It’s obvious, isn’t it, my love?’
‘Is it?’
‘You need an extra pair of hands. Offer Tamara a part-time job here. I’m sure she could fit it in around the pub because that Christos is working shifts now, supposedly trying to learn the business alongside Pixie.’ Becky snorted.
‘You don’t think much of him?’
‘I know a lazy, untrustworthy man when I see one. I’m afraid Pixie’s going to find out the hard way. Anyway, back to Tamara. She’s a hard worker and can do the physical stuff you can’t manage for a while.’
There were a million reasons why this was a terrible idea, but he suspected his sister wouldn’t want to hear them. Being thrown into Tamara’s orbit at home and work? He doubted she’d be any more enthusiastic about Becky’s idea than he was.
‘Well?’
‘I suppose I could ask her,’ he said reluctantly.
‘You do that. Anyway, let’s get busy. We can chat while we work. I want to hear more about what you’ve been doing all these years.’
* * *
‘Work for you?’ Tamara heard her voice turn shrieky. While she’d been at the pub, she’d racked her brains thinking how to help Gage get the shop open and juggle all her other commitments. This hadn’t made the list.
Gage shuffled awkwardly on his crutches and seemed inordinately interested in the newly sanded and polished wood floor. ‘Becky came up with the idea. I told her it was daft.’
‘Part-time for a fortnight to get the shop open, then probably a couple more weeks after that to get you back on your feet properly, right?’
‘Yeah, then I can manage alone.’ He surreptitiously crossed his fingers.
Tamara’s raised eyebrows said what she thought of his optimistic plan. ‘I’ll ask Pixie this evening and let you know one way or the other when I come home.’
It would all depend on whether Christos could take time off his own job to work her daytime shift.
She could still go in first thing to do the puddings and prepare those that could either be served cold or were easy to warm up.
Rocky was perfectly capable of taking the job over, but she was reluctant to give it up before she absolutely had to, if only because of the extra money it brought in.
She would still be there in the evenings as usual.
It should be easy to round up any more help they needed from her friends, too, but she’d keep that possibility to herself for now.
They were awesome at supporting each other, and this was for the good of the village.
No one wanted Penworthal going the way of so many others and turning into a Cornish ghost town with few viable businesses and no community spirit left.
A bigger problem was how Toby would react if she took up Gage’s job offer.
Her overprotective son had already had a go at her for inviting a strange man to stay.
Toby hadn’t softened when she’d appealed to his compassionate side as someone who spent his days helping sick people.
She’d made a point of laying it on a bit by describing Gage as a sharp-tempered, somewhat unfriendly man who’d only moved in with her because he had no choice.
There was an element of truth in that, but the more she got to know Gage, the more Tamara was inclined to feel her that like her, he’d been dealt a challenging hand in life.
‘Wouldn’t doing all this be too much for you?’
Every time she thought they were getting on better he came out with something like that.
‘I didn’t mean to imply—’
‘I bet you were on duty around the clock many times and never gave it a thought. Being a mum’s that way and I did that alone, so I don’t think a few weeks’ hard work is going to kill me. After all, I’m doing it to help a friend.’
The emphasis on the last word made him wince.
‘Right, let’s get you home now. You look exhausted.’
His grey skin and the tightness around his mouth and eyes were sure indicators, and she wasn’t having him relapse on her watch, leaving her to face the doctor’s wrath.
‘I am. Thank you.’ His quiet agreement took her by surprise. For a second their eyes met and Tamara couldn’t breathe.
‘No problem,’ she said briskly. ‘I’ve got a couple of steak-and-mushroom pies for our tea if that suits you? They’re left over from lunchtime.’
‘Anything will do. I’m not fussy.’ Blobs of heat lit up his cheeks. ‘I—
‘Didn’t mean to sound grouchy and ungrateful. I know. We’re both straight talkers. I prefer that.’ A shiver trickled down her spine. ‘Let’s go.’