Chapter Sixteen
After he’d straightened the display of new books, stationed inside the door so they would be the first things customers saw, Gage checked the time.
A quarter of an hour left until opening time at nine.
Tamara wouldn’t be here for at least another hour, needing to finish her early-morning stint at the pub.
With less than six weeks to go until Christmas, they’d hopefully get really busy soon and he was already worried about how he’d manage without her when she started working her day shift at the pub again.
At least that problem was a thousand times better than most he’d dealt with over the last twenty years, in the sense that no one would die if he managed it wrong.
But, for now, his tea-making supplies were running low, so he’d better pop across to Vernon’s and treat himself to a dose of the man’s morose grumblings. Whistling happily, he locked up and strolled across the road.
Nowadays he almost bent in half entering Vernon’s emporium to avoid a repeat of the ignominious knee incident. While he debated whether buying orange custard creams as opposed to the regular ones was a step too far, two women around the next aisle were discussing the new houses.
‘Bloody great monstrosities, they are. Don’t fit in the village at all. Some folk got more money than sense. Next thing, they’ll be barging in here telling us what to do and complaining when poor Mr Bull doesn’t stock avocados or whatever other fancy nonsense they eat.’
He smothered a smile. The great Penworthal Avocado War. Villagers against outsiders. Instead of duelling pistols, they could throw avocados at ten paces.
‘Are you the owner?’ A stern-faced woman, whose tweed suit strained over a well-upholstered chest, glared at him.
‘Me? Uh, no, ma’am.’
‘I was hoping to be served, as opposed to insulted.’ Her booming voice carried around the shop. ‘I’m Monica Wyndham-Smythe and I moved into one of the “monstrosities” at Trelawney Court last week.’
He stuck out his hand. ‘Gage Bennet. I own the Mighty Pen bookshop across the road.’ The woman’s brisk handshake resembled Tamara’s and left him wincing.
‘If you’d like to pop over when you’ve done your shopping, I’d love to show you around.
We do a twenty per cent discount on purchases for new customers.
’ He was prompted to make the offer after hearing about the similar scheme Chloe had initiated here in the shop.
‘I’m a newcomer too and I’ve found everyone very friendly.
Some of the locals might take a while to come around, but plenty of others will go out of their way to welcome you.
’ He’d raised his voice so the eavesdroppers hopefully heard every word.
Gage spotted Vernon and beckoned him over. ‘This is Mr Bull and he’s the gentleman you need.’
‘You’ve been most kind, Mr Bennet.’ She managed a tight smile. ‘I’m sure I speak for all the Trelawney Court residents when I say we each want to become an integral part of this community.’ Her mouth twitched at one corner. ‘And for your information, Mr Bull, I’m highly allergic to avocados.’
‘That’s good, my love, because we ain’t got any.’ Vernon gave a nervous laugh and rubbed his hands together. ‘You come with me and I’ll show you what’s what.’
Gage struggled to keep his amusement in check.
The shopkeeper would do anything to make a sale, even going against his naturally grumpy nature to ingratiate himself with the incomers.
Tamara would get a kick out of hearing about this later.
He recklessly grabbed a packet of Garibaldi biscuits off the stack.
Some people cruelly called them squashed fly biscuits but he’d loved them as a boy, possibly because they weren’t overly sweet, and he hadn’t eaten one in years.
He dropped the money on the counter and made his escape.
* * *
Gage perched on the stool for a breather. Thankfully five o’clock was looming. Closing time.
‘Hello, my love.’ Becky bustled in. Emily trailed behind her and, judging by his niece’s mutinous expression, she wasn’t here willingly. ‘This one’s got something to say to you.’ She jabbed her daughter’s elbow when the girl didn’t speak.
‘Thanks,’ Emily mumbled.
‘What for?’
‘Stepping in—’
‘Tamara had a word with me,’ Becky interrupted. ‘Quiet like, after book club, and told me about Christos being a bit over-friendly with our Emily on Halloween night in the pub.’
Before Gage could open his mouth to say it was Tamara who deserved most of the credit, his sister ploughed on.
‘That Christos struts around like he owns the place. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him. Pixie won’t see it though.’ Becky sounded exasperated. ‘She’ll find out the hard way, you mark my words.’
‘We’ll see, I suppose.’ An idea struck. ‘Do you have a Saturday job, Emily?’
‘Nothing round here, is there?’
‘I can’t pay much, but I could do with a hand here.’
His niece didn’t look too thrilled. Being stuck with her uncle and a load of old books might not be cool in her eyes.
‘If you aren’t interested, that’s fine.’
‘I s’pose I could if you like.’
‘Give you a bit more pocket money, won’t it?’ Becky nudged her daughter again. ‘Say thank you.’
He suppressed a smile when Emily looked exasperated.
An almost forgotten memory struck so hard he bit his lip.
Before his relationship with his mother had deteriorated, she’d often talked to him the same way.
Mildly despairing, but loving all the same.
It gnawed that they hadn’t had a chance to at least try to put things right before cancer had stolen her from him.
He hadn’t even made it back from Afghanistan for her funeral.
‘Got brains, she has. She’s at Truro College taking A levels in computer science, art and design and English literature, and her teachers say she’s more than bright enough for university. First in our family, she’d be.’ A veil of tears clouded Becky’s eyes and she sniffed. ‘Apart from you maybe?’
‘I did get my degree while I was in the marines. Much later, though,’ he explained. ‘I don’t suppose you have a couple of hours free now, Emily?’ he asked.
His niece tossed him a wary look.
‘Good, because I’m not these days.’
‘Yeah. I guess your crappy knee sucks.’
‘You could say that.’
‘Just did, didn’t I?’
‘Emily, don’t be rude to your uncle.’ Becky tutted.
‘It’s okay. Perhaps we’ve both inherited the same weird sense of humour.’ Like it or not, half of his make-up came from Wally Harris.
‘Mebbe,’ Becky said. ‘Dad always had a joke at the ready. Mum used to get annoyed when he wouldn’t take anything serious.’
His sister rifled in her handbag and pulled out a small scrap of paper. ‘You never asked for this, but I’ve been carrying it around in case you did or if I got the guts to give it to you. It’s Dad’s address and phone number.’
If Emily hadn’t been scrutinising them both like they were zoo exhibits, he would’ve told Becky to toss it in the bin.
The last person he wanted to contact was the man who’d screwed up by fathering him in the first place, then had done a bunk and moved on without a backward glance.
Gage grunted his thanks and snatched the note away.
‘I need a few bits for our tea so I’m off to the shop.’ Becky angled her daughter a sharp look. Pausing at the door, she stopped and turned. ‘I’m ever so glad you came back, Gage.’
The heartfelt outburst touched him. ‘Me too. Off you go so I can put this young lady to work.’ He turned to Emily. ‘Let’s go outside first to see if you can come up with ideas for a Christmas-themed shop-window display.’
‘Me?’
‘Yep. Tamara and I have some thoughts, but I’d like your opinion.’
Her clear surprise indicated no one had asked her such a thing before.
That reminded Gage of his first boss after he’d completed basic training.
He hadn’t treated him as simply another clueless grunt, but had asked pertinent questions and had listened to his answers.
Never calling them stupid, he’d always given them proper consideration before either agreeing or pointing out what might be a better solution.
‘Come on then. No offence to Mr Bull’s display, but I’m thinking of something a little less—’
‘Tacky and tasteless?’ She chortled. ‘Appeals to the oldies, though, doesn’t it? Chloe’s smart.’
‘She certainly is.’
Finding out they had a new part-time assistant would be another surprise for Tamara later.
* * *
It wasn’t in Tamara’s nature to be jealous, especially of her friends, but tonight was a challenge.
She stopped wiping down the bar for a moment and watched Melissa and Nathan enviously, cosied up by the fireplace over a bottle of wine.
Evelyn and Ophelia huddled around a table by the window, laughing over one of Quinten’s stories.
Thanks to Ophelia’s persistence, the couple had been reunited and he was once more a fixture at the bungalow.
Evelyn was looking particularly pretty tonight in a turquoise wool dress.
Her burnished silver hair was caught back loosely at the sides with a pair of antique silver clips fashioned into twisted Celtic knots.
Now their children were older, Becky sometimes left the older kids to look after the younger ones and eat pizza, so they must’ve done this tonight as she and Paul were enjoying a meal together.
Josie and Harry were chattering and laughing while they played darts, badly.
Even Laura and Barry had popped in for a quick drink because her mother was babysitting little Josephine.
Was it foolish to imagine she and Gage could be the same one day?
She stared greedily at Gage, propped on a stool at the other end of the bar, listening to Jimmy Trevail’s woes.
After the bookshop had opened a week ago, he’d moved back into the flat over the shop so there were no more friendly chats over breakfast or late-night cups of tea. No kisses either.