Bay Tree Cottage Page 12

  He looked up. ‘This is utterly charming, Ginger, and it shows how much you like people. I absolutely love it. Can I see some others?’

  ‘Oh. Right. If you like.’ She was annoyed with herself for stuttering like a fool and clamped her mouth shut.

  When she pulled out the others she could see by his smile that he understood what she was trying to show: scenes from the world around her; not cartoons exactly, but not realism, either. The essence of what people were doing with their lives, she hoped.

  ‘I’d like to buy one,’ he said suddenly.

  She could feel herself blushing. First Elise wanting one, then him. ‘You don’t have to.’

  ‘I’m not lying to you, Ginger, and I never will. I know perfectly well that I don’t have to buy one, but I want to. Very much, actually. I even know exactly where I’ll hang it on my living room wall.’

  ‘Oh.’ She could feel herself blushing hotly at this compliment, then something occurred to her. ‘How about I give you one in return for you bringing my furniture to Wiltshire for me?’

  ‘Done!’ He stuck out one big, rough hand and they shook solemnly.

  ‘I have an important appointment tomorrow, but we could go up to Newcastle the day after, if that suits you, Ginger. What do you think?’

  ‘I think that’ll suit me just fine. It’ll give me time to work out what stuff I’ll need to bring and what can be given to the charity shop.’

  ‘Would you mind starting off really early, like four o’clock in the morning? Then we can do it all in one day.’

  ‘I don’t mind at all. I’m an early morning person, anyway, and I’m always awake by six, so four o’clock won’t be hard to do.’

  He pulled out a business card. ‘I’ll pick you up the day after tomorrow, then. If you need to contact me about anything in the meantime, here are my details. Could I have your phone number, too, please?’

  That done, she said firmly, ‘I’ll bring some food.’

  ‘Good. But we’ll buy one meal out. It’ll make a nice break, because it’ll be a long day. That meal will be my treat.’

  She agreed, watched him walk away, then went inside to face some gentle teasing from Elise about ‘picking up a clue’, which turned out to mean finding a boyfriend.

  She didn’t mind. It had been a long time since a man had shown an interest in her.

  She’d thought her own interest in men had died.

  Wrong! It had just woken up again.

  What unattached woman of her age wouldn’t be interested in Iain Darling with his lovely, friendly smile? It touched something in her, that smile did, warmed something that had been cold for a long time.

  The two sisters met at what they now called Keziah’s flat a couple of days later and waited for the lawyer’s clerk to arrive. He was late and Abbie couldn’t sit still, but paced up and down. She was dying to move out of the small flat and had everything packed in boxes, ready to go.

  ‘I can’t tell you what this means to me, the chance for Louis to have a decent home,’ she told her sister. ‘He never complains about our cramped conditions, but we can’t have his friends round to play, let alone to stay for sleepovers. And it’s hard keeping him entertained quietly, so as not to disturb the other tenants.’

  ‘I know what you mean. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to keep Susie quiet since we moved in here. Dad didn’t like noise and I could see him wince now and then, because she has a really piercing voice when she’s upset.’

  ‘Don’t they all at that age? Did you hear a car?’

  They both rushed to the window.

  ‘Yes, that’s Mr Paxley.’

  The clerk, who was far from the fussy stereotype of a lawyer’s clerk, strode into the building.

  When the doorbell rang, Keziah went to answer it and Mr Paxley took them across the inner entrance hall from her flat to the nearer of the two vacant ones.

  ‘It’d be nice if we both occupied this floor,’ Abbie said before they even went inside.

  ‘Nice for the children, too, to have those courtyards to play out in. I’d not trust Susie on her own with a balcony for ten seconds.’

  The other flat on the ground floor smelt of new paint and Abbie would have liked to throw open the windows, but decided she’d better not do anything except look today. She stood in the middle of the open-plan living area and sighed happily. This space was bigger than the whole of her present place.

  ‘The bedrooms and bathrooms are that way,’ Mr Paxley pointed.

  ‘Bathrooms? There’s more than one?’

  ‘An en suite in the master bedroom and a shared family bathroom between the other two bedrooms.’ He waved one hand. ‘Go and check them out. You won’t want me breathing down your neck. Take your time. I have my iPad with me and can get on with some work.’

  Keziah took a firm hold of her daughter’s hand and followed her sister round.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ Abbie said when they’d checked out all the bedrooms. ‘I think I’ll take this flat.’

  ‘You haven’t even looked at the other!’

  ‘The clerk says the layout is very similar, but I meant what I said: it’d be good to be on the ground floor together. We can help one another out with babysitting, and stuff like that, by just nipping across the shared hall.’

  ‘Yes. Oh, yes.’ They hugged one another spontaneously, then went back to Mr Paxley.

  ‘I like this one,’ Abbie said.

  ‘Don’t you want to even see the other?’

  ‘No, thanks. I’d like to be on the ground floor near my sister. And this rear shared hall makes it much more private, with just the two of us using it. If we got a lock made for that door, we could use it to store bicycles and big toys in.’

  ‘Well, if that’s what you want, we’ll go for it. Once probate is obtained, you’ll be able to rearrange things to suit your own needs. We have a tenant waiting to take the other flat, so I’ll send a message to him that he’s got the first-floor flat, which he preferred anyway.’

  Without more ado, he unthreaded a small bunch of keys and handed them to her. ‘There won’t be any rent to pay, of course, and by the time the rates come due, you’ll probably have probate and can sort that out for yourselves.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Abbie swallowed hard as she looked at the key to her new life. She’d felt so depressed and lonely at times in that bedsitter, and now the future seemed full of promise. And money. She knew money wasn’t everything but when you were permanently short, daily expenses loomed large in your life.

  Keziah gave her a hug. ‘I’ll take Susie for a lie-down and put the kettle on. You can join me when you’ve had another private gloat.’

  What Abbie did was stand in the middle of the big living area and cry for joy, just a few happy tears. Then she pulled herself together and walked round again, checking every cupboard and drawer. They were empty, of course, and she didn’t have nearly enough possessions to fill them, but they were hers now. She was dying to show the flat to Louis.

  When she went across to Keziah’s flat, her sister was speaking on the phone.

  ‘Emil Kinnaird,’ she mouthed, nodding into the phone. ‘Thank you. I’ll pick the car up as soon as I’ve arranged insurance, Emil.’

  Abbie could hear his voice, faint and tinny.

  ‘Actually, our company does insurance of various types. I can get you the best deal.’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Come round to the office, and we’ll arrange cover for you on the spot.’

  Abbie wished they didn’t have to keep dealing with him. He was too good-looking and she couldn’t help feeling a tug of attraction every time she saw him. And she didn’t want that, wasn’t ready for another relationship, perhaps never would be again. She had a son to raise.

  But she didn’t say anything to Keziah, who was looking delighted.

  Later that afternoon, Abbie waited impatiently for school to end and was there in her car to collect Louis when he came out of the building, greeting him wit
h, ‘Hurry up. I’ve got a wonderful surprise for you.’

  ‘What?’

  She saw the anxiety on his face. She’d had to pretend over the years that some situations were good when they weren’t really, such as moving to a new flat unexpectedly. When would he ever trust that a surprise could be a good one? ‘We’ve got the new flat, one with proper bedrooms. We’re moving in as soon as I can arrange it.’

  ‘Bedrooms? More than one.’

  She knew how he felt. ‘It’s not a bedsitter this time, darling.’ Once they were in the car, she explained the details and had the joy of watching his face brighten with hope.

  ‘I’ll have a bedroom of my own?’ he asked for the third time.

  ‘Yes. And a bathroom of your own, too.’

  He stared at her, open-mouthed. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really and truly.’

  ‘I can’t wait to see it.’

  At the flat she watched, enjoying the sight of her son running to and fro from room to room. He chose which of the two bedrooms he wanted, shouted ‘Yippee!’ several times and then turned cartwheels across the living area. In fact, he generally acted like a carefree child, a state of mind she hadn’t always been able to give him.

  ‘Can we move in here tonight, Mum?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. I have to find someone to move our furniture and finish off the packing.’

  ‘We could camp out here and get our furniture tomorrow.’

  ‘I’m too old to sleep on the floor, darling.’ She held up one hand. ‘No, Louis. It wouldn’t work. A few more nights in the old place and then we’ll be ready to move. It’s not just packing. I have to leave the place sparkling clean or they’ll charge me to have more cleaning done.’ She’d been caught that way before when changing places to live and now she not only left a place perfect but took photos to prove it.

  Louis heaved a sigh but stopped arguing.

  Of course, they had to bump into Emil Kinnaird in the supermarket and he immediately came across to chat to them. She didn’t want to encourage his interest, had enough on her plate, but somehow they got talking and she mentioned her coming move.

  ‘It occurred to me: you’ll need someone to move you. We signed up a client today who’s just setting up the insurance for a new delivery service. He said he was going to do small-scale house removals mainly, because there’s apparently a lot of call for it and he doesn’t need to invest in a big pantechnicon—’

  ‘What’s a pantechnicon?’ Louis asked at once.

  ‘A big van for transporting housefuls of furniture.’

  ‘How do you spell it?’

  ‘I’ll tell you later, Louis. Let Mr Kinnaird speak.’ She loved her son’s enthusiasm about learning new words but sometimes she had to rein it back.

  ‘Shall I give you the removal man’s name? He seems a decent fellow.’

  ‘Oh. Yes. Thank you.’

  He fumbled for his smartphone and she took down the details. By that time Louis was fidgeting impatiently.

  ‘Sorry to delay you and your mum,’ Emil said to the boy. ‘When are you moving house?’

  ‘Mum says we can’t do it till tomorrow, or even later.’ Louis gave an aggrieved sigh. ‘Only I’ll be at school tomorrow.’

  ‘And we can only do it when this man can fit us in,’ Abbie said firmly. ‘I’m not a worker of miracles, Louis.’

  Emil smiled. ‘Well, if you ring him tonight you stand a good chance for getting it done this week. He’s only just starting up.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I have to go. I’m about to go flat-hunting myself, but I shan’t need a removal van because I have to buy all the furniture from scratch. The flat I was supposed to live in over the shop is only a grotty bedsitter and the electric wiring is dodgy, so I moved into a hotel.’

  ‘I can relate to that. Our place is very dingy.’

  ‘Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  ‘It’s all right. We’re moving out to a bigger place soon.’

  As she walked back to her car with a trolley full of empty cardboard boxes, it occurred to her that for once, Emil hadn’t irritated her. For once, she and he seemed to have been on the same wavelength, to use one of her father’s favourite expressions.

  And she liked the way he was so patient with Louis, who was at a questioning age and didn’t think before interrupting.

  Maybe she’d been a bit hasty in judging him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The following day Nell turned up at Saffron Lane mid morning and asked if Ginger could spare an hour.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I want to introduce you to a neighbour and friend who lives near the top end of Peppercorn Street. Winifred is a friend of Elise’s, but she’s a little older. I’ve been wondering how to find really special cakes for the café and I suddenly remembered Winifred. If she has the time and energy, maybe we could get her to bake cakes for the café? At the beginning anyway, perhaps not once things get busy. She’s in her eighties, after all. But she bakes far too many cakes now and is always giving them away, so why not sell some of them to us instead?’

  Elise had been listening and joined in. ‘That’s a great idea, Nell.’ She turned to Ginger. ‘I’m sure you’ll like Winifred and her cakes. They’re the most delicious ones I’ve ever tasted. Baking is her passion. She doesn’t need the money, but she’ll enjoy having a reason to bake more.’

  ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I took it for granted that you’d come, Ginger, and phoned her, so she’s expecting us,’ Nell said. ‘You’re sure you have the time?’

  ‘Of course I do. I shan’t be available tomorrow, though.’ She took a deep breath and said it out loud. ‘Iain Darling is taking me to Newcastle in his van to collect my furniture.’

  ‘Ah, you’ve met him, have you? Such a clever man with gardens. He’s helped me a lot with the one at the big house, which had been let go to seed and needed a lot of attention when I moved in. Angus was too busy with his work and modernising the interior of the house to do much outside, you see. I’m particularly glad that Iain’s sorting out the gardens behind the end two houses for us. It’ll make such a difference to them.’

  ‘He and I found a bay tree at the back of Number 6 yesterday.’

  ‘Ah. I thought there must be one, given the house name. You must show it to me when you come back. Iain’s a careful driver. I’m sure you’ll have a safe trip with him.’

  The words tumbled out before Ginger could stop them. ‘I took to him at once.’

  ‘People do.’

  ‘He’s so kind.’

  ‘Very. He helps a lot of people in his quiet way. Just a thought about furniture for the café. I don’t think we should try for the modern sterile look, but look for an eclectic collection of furniture and a couple of small sofas, with comfort being more important than style – a lot of modern furniture is too stark for my taste, anyway, and hard on the backside, or too low for older people. As for colours, I’m not turned on by shades of grey and brown and mud.’

  Ginger wasn’t so sure about that but now wasn’t the time to disagree. ‘You’ll need some outdoor furniture as well for the fine days. If you can afford to pave the outside area it’ll be easy to keep it all nice.’

  ‘Yes, I was wondering about that. I think those white plastic tables and chairs that are quite cheap will do out there. All white can look quite nice with greenery and flowers in pots dotted around. We’ll get Iain to look at organising the patio. He knows all sorts of handy people. A covered roof would be necessary, given our rainy English climate. As you said, we’ve got two sides of that area already formed by the building – if you don’t mind having people sitting right outside your bedroom. We’ll put up net curtains or something so that they can’t see in.’

  ‘I don’t mind at all. I’ll just get my bag.’ She never went anywhere without the capacious shoulder bag. People teased her about it, but she could pull all sorts of things out in an emergency, and often had done when others were struggling for lack of scissors o
r other small items.

  ‘We’ll walk up to Winifred’s, if you don’t mind,’ Nell said when Ginger came back with the bag slung over her shoulder. ‘It’s not far.’

  ‘I’m a good walker.’ She’d had to be.

  Winifred was another person Ginger liked on sight. She had lovely silver hair and was elegantly dressed, not looking anything like a ‘little old lady’.

  Not for the first time, Ginger wondered about leaving her own hair uncoloured. It had started going silver soon after she turned forty and she’d hated that, so had started dyeing it. The women who’d been her neighbours in Newcastle had all dyed their hair as they grew older, so she had too. But Nell’s hair was unashamedly streaked with grey and she made no effort to hide it, while Winifred’s hair was pure silver and looked lovely. Hmm. Something else to think about.

  Winifred made them a cup of tea and produced some home-made cherry and almond cake, which was delicious.

  Nell asked their hostess whether she would like to bake a couple of cakes every week for the café, ones that would last or could be frozen perhaps, not cream cakes. They’d pay her, of course.

  Winifred went bright pink, seeming delighted and confiding that she’d never earned money by her own efforts because she’d stayed at home to look after her elderly mother.

  Just as they were about to leave, a car drew up outside and a young woman came into the house to join them.

  Ginger saw her hostess’s face light up at the sight of her. You could tell she loved the newcomer.

  Nell introduced the newcomer as Janey Redman.

  ‘Janey is my adopted grand-niece.’ Winifred hugged the girl again. ‘She lives here with her daughter, Millie.’ Then she frowned. ‘Are you all right, dear? You don’t usually come home from college during the day.’

  ‘I came to bring a bit of shopping back and ask if you’d mind my mother coming round to look after Millie this afternoon and evening. I’ve, um, been invited out by a guy at college.’ Janey flushed as she said this.