A New Beginning (8 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Joyce was right. Being practical did help. It helped a lot. Instead of feeling at the mercy of ocean currents and winds she couldn’t influence at all, Kirsty began to feel more in control of her own life again. She stopped dithering. She took decisions. Even if she didn’t know where she was going in the long run, there were still things she could do right now.

The first thing she did was exactly what Joyce had urged her to do. She put her mother’s house up for sale. The agent who valued it surprised her, suggesting a figure far higher than she’d expected.

‘Are you sure?’ she said dubiously.

‘Oh, yes. We’ve had a couple go around here in recent weeks. It’s a nice area, and people know it as such. You won’t have any difficulty selling this one.’

‘It seems a lot of money.’

He laughed. ‘That’s an unusual point of view,’ he said. ‘Most people think they’ll be robbed if they sell at the price we value the house at.’

Mr. Edgar, from the estate agent “Edgar, Edgar and Son”, based in Newcastle, was a dull, middle-aged sort of man who had probably been born in the Harris Tweed jacket and moleskin trousers he wore. He really did look the part. Kirsty felt he was exactly the right man for the job, and she trusted his judgement implicitly.

‘People, eh?’ Kirsty said, smiling at last. ‘What do they know? Well, you must know what it’s worth. I’m very lucky.’

‘It’s a nice house in a good location,’ Mr. Edgar re-affirmed. ‘It wants a bit doing to it, of course. Nothing serious. Updating, mostly. Decorating. New windows, maybe. New kitchen. Possibly a new bathroom, as well. That sort of thing.’

Kirsty nodded. She had expected that. The house her mum had been happy with for forty years wasn’t one many twenty-something, newly-wed young things would want today.

‘But that’s nothing out of the ordinary,’ Mr. Edgar concluded. ‘You can pretty well say the same thing about any house that comes on the market these days. A lot of the so-called improvements are unnecessary, in my opinion, but most people feel they have to make them.’

‘Really?’

He nodded. ‘I blame these make-over programmes on television. All the young ones want this month’s fashion. Then, in a year’s time, they want what was there originally. So they go hunting round architectural scrap yards – “salvage” businesses, they call them – looking fruitlessly for the marble fireplaces they threw out when they first bought the house. So then they buy new Victorian fireplaces – made in China last week.’ He paused, shrugged and added, ‘We’re fast losing our traditions.’

‘You’ll be more aware of that than most of us,’ Kirsty said, trying to be agreeable, but wondering secretly if there was anything at all worth salvaging in her mother’s house. Now she’d collected her moth-eaten teddy bear, with its one remaining ear, she couldn’t think of one single thing. And she didn’t think even Mr. Edgar would count Teddy as an architectural treasure. The old place needed a revamp.

Mr. Edgar hadn’t finished yet. ‘The important thing to remember is that whatever you do to a house, you can’t change the location. And basically location determines price. So this house will sell quickly at the price I’ve suggested. If you’re happy with it, that is?’ he added, eyebrows raised in enquiry.

‘Oh, yes,’ Kirsty assured him. ‘My mum would have been happy with it, as well.’

‘What did he say?’ Joyce asked.

‘Who?’

‘The estate agent. Who else?’

Kirsty laughed. ‘It was very interesting. Very satisfactory, as well. Mum’s house is worth more than I realised, according to him. And he thinks it will sell quickly.’

‘That’s good.’ Joyce looked pleased. ‘I’m happy you took my advice, in that case.’

‘Oh, Joyce! I always listen to what you say. You’re such an intelligent, knowledgeable, authoritative, impressive sort of person.’

‘Hang on a minute. I want to write all that down to show Alan. I’m seriously under-appreciated at home.’

‘I’ll tell him, Joyce. Next time I see him I’ll let him know what a jewel he’s got.’

Joyce smiled and said, ‘What about my hair? Do you like my hair this way?’

‘It’s perfect, Joyce. Absolutely perfect.’

‘Good.’ Joyce looked satisfied. ‘So that’s one thing settled. Your mother’s house, I mean,’ she added.

Kirsty recovered from a moment of confusion. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It’s a relief to get that started.’

‘And I’ve got some news for you.’

‘Have you now?’

‘Don’t give up, Kirsty. Don’t ever give up.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Like I said.’ Joyce shrugged. ‘Don’t give up on the things that are important to you.’ She paused and then added, ‘We didn’t.’

‘Who didn’t?’

‘Me and Alan. Alan and I, rather,’ Joyce said, looking smug.

Kirsty stared at her for a moment. Then the penny dropped. ‘Oh, Joyce! You aren’t?’

Joyce nodded, and looked even more smug.

‘Oh, Joyce, that’s wonderful! Oh, congratulations. I’m so happy for you both.’

‘Thank you, Kirsty. So don’t you give up either. Promise?’

Kirsty nodded. ‘Never,’ she assured her friend.

***

She still didn’t know what to do about Fells Inn, though. Whenever she thought about it, she would become upset about the way Bob had misled her. Somehow that had taken the shine off her enthusiasm. So she waited to see if it would recover.

She was even more ambivalent about Bob himself. On the one hand, she had come to like him so much, and she hadn’t forgotten the thrill of “that kiss”, as she thought of it. On the other hand, how could you trust a man who would lie to your face?

Well, not lie as such, perhaps, but mislead you. Not tell you things that were obviously important. Listen to you describing your hopes and dreams, and not tell you he was in a position to stop you achieving them. It didn’t bear thinking about. You could never trust a man like that. It was almost the worst fault a man could have.

Craig wasn’t a bit like that. He might be dull and boring, and complacent and self-satisfied, and a few other things as well, but he would never carry on like that. If he had an interest in a property, he would make sure the whole world knew about it. It would become part of the Craig success story.

She smiled ruefully and shook her head. She had better not go down that road again. Craig was her past, not her future. But, then, so was Bob, actually. She wasn’t going down that road either. Unfortunately, that seemed to mean forgetting about Fells Inn as well as him. She couldn’t think of having one without the other now. That was just the way it was. The way she was.

Joyce didn’t understand, of course. Joyce was so relentlessly pragmatic it wasn’t true.

‘Business is business,’ Joyce said crisply. ‘A man is something else. Keep them separate.’

It was all right for her to say something stupid like that, Kirsty thought. That was what being married to Alan all those years had done for her. Joyce had no idea.

‘How can you say that, Joyce?’ she said with irritation. ‘That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. After all I’ve told you, as well.’

‘I’m just being practical, Kirsty,’ Joyce said with a shrug. Then she smiled. ‘You’re very fond of this Bob, aren’t you?’

‘No, not at all.’

‘You are. I can tell.’

‘Well, maybe I was. Briefly.’

‘More than that, I think.’

‘For goodness sake, Joyce! I’ve forgotten about him already.’

‘I can see that.’ After a pause, Joyce smiled and said, ‘Don’t mind me, Kirsty. I’m only teasing. What I would do, if I were in your shoes...’

‘Which you haven’t been for many years.’

‘Admittedly. Not for quite a while. But I haven’t forgotten what it’s like when you meet someone you really like. Not entirely, whatever you may think.’

Kirsty relented. ‘Oh, Joyce. I’m sorry. That was very rude of me. I know you mean things for the best. It’s just that... I’ve been so miserable. I mean, here I am, getting on with practical things, like you said I should, and I’m just plain miserable. More than ever.’

‘I know you are. Look, what I would do is contact Bob and have it out with him. Talk to him. Maybe there’s some simple explanation for what happened, or didn’t happen.’

Kirsty shook her head. ‘I don’t think so, Joyce. I really don’t think so.’

Joyce considered for a moment. ‘Well, the only other thing I have to say is I really like that German ice-cream we had in that little place in the Metrocentre. Why don’t we go there again and have some more?’

Kirsty was stunned for a moment. Then a smile broke out. ‘Joyce Henderson! I can’t believe the things you come out with.’

‘Well? Yes or no?’

‘I’ll just get my coat.’

Chapter Fourteen

It wasn’t easy, though, being practical. Mum’s house was one thing, but there was still the rest of it. What to do? What to make of Bob’s astonishing deception? She went round and round with it. Her head was buzzing. During the day she could think of little else. At night she couldn’t sleep. Everything had been so promising. And she had been so happy. Now this.

‘Are you all right, Kirsty?’ Emma asked.

‘Me? Of course.’

‘You don’t seem well. I wondered if you were coming down with something. All the rest of us have had the bug. Maybe it’s your turn.’

‘Maybe it is,’ Kirsty did her best to smile reassuringly. ‘I’m all right, Emma, thanks. Just tired.’

Emma nodded. ‘If you want a hand?’ she added, gesturing towards Kirsty’s unusually piled-high in-tray.

‘Thanks. I’ll give you a shout, if I do.’

Emma retreated. No-one else had taken any notice, thankfully. At least, Kirsty thought, she’s pulled me out of my nosedive to nowhere. The last few days I’ve let things slip. She grabbed the item on top of her in-tray and attacked it with vigour.

The gentle word from Emma had done its job. She was re-energised, and she stayed that way for the rest of the day.

By the time she got home that evening, she had sorted out her priorities and intentions. She would, she had decided, go ahead, after all. She would ignore the distraction of Bob and seek to buy Fells Inn. Whatever Bob was up to, it was no business of hers, and she wouldn’t let it distract her. She was disappointed in him. Of course she was. But Joyce was right. Her interest in the inn pre-dated her interest in Bob. So she would get on with it.

The next morning she phoned her friendly bank manager, Matthew Taylor, and told him she wished to go ahead. He was pleased for her, and undertook both to prepare the application for a commercial mortgage and to conduct negotiations with Henry’s agent over the sale of the inn.

‘Be bold, Kirsty,’ he advised, not sounding like a bank manager at all, ‘and live life to the full. Never be afraid of a challenge. You’re going to have an exciting time.’

‘I hope so,’ she said, swallowing her inhibitions. ‘I really do.’

Next she contacted Mr. Edgar and told him she wished to put her own house on the market, as well as her mother’s.

‘It’s a good time to do it,’ he said judiciously, ‘if that’s what you’re thinking of doing. Despite the doom and gloom merchants down south, not to mention the BBC, the market is very good up here. We’ve had a few enquiries about your mother’s house already, and I’m pretty sure the last couple I took round it are going to come back with an offer.’

‘Really? That’s quick.’

‘And my advice would be to consider the offer carefully, when it comes, but don’t feel you have to grab their hand off. This is an attractive property, and you should get close to my valuation.’

‘That’s wonderful, Mr. Edgar. Thank you so much.’

After that they arranged a time for him to come to value her own house.

Then, greatly cheered, she rang Joyce.

‘Told you!’ Joyce said. ‘Told you so.’

‘You’re not supposed to say things like that, Joyce.’ Kirsty chuckled. ‘You’re supposed to say be careful, are you sure, do you think it’s the right thing to do? Things like that. A good friend is supposed to introduce a note of caution, to stop me doing something too quickly that I might regret later.’

‘Not this one,’ Joyce said firmly. ‘Get on with it, girl.’

Matthew told her Henry’s agent had accepted her offer.

‘Oh, that’s great. Thank you so much, Matthew. Was it difficult?’

‘Not really, no. They grabbed my hand off. I think the property has been on the market a long time. They were desperate to sell. We could probably have beaten them down a bit further if we’d used delaying tactics.’

‘I wouldn’t have wanted that. I want to pay a fair price for the inn.’

‘Well, I think you have. I’ve heard there won’t be a problem with the mortgage either. So it’s over to you, Miss Sunshine. It’s all yours. How do you feel?’

She laughed. ‘Numb. That’s how I feel.’

‘It’ll wear off. Then you’ll feel totally exhilarated. If you don’t, let me know. Something will be wrong, and I’ll have to try to wriggle you out of it.’

‘Don’t even think that, Matthew. I’m very happy. It’s wonderful. And thank you again so much.’

‘Just one thing?’

‘Yes?’

‘When you have your opening party, be sure to let me know.’

‘Oh, I’ll do more than that. You can have the best room in the place for free.’

‘Kirsty, Kirsty! That’s no way to run a business. I can see you have a lot to learn. When you open for business, you’ll find friends you didn’t even know you had coming to visit you. Charge them top price. Then you’ll see who your real friends are. They’ll be the ones that continue coming.’

‘What a cynic you’ve become, Matthew. I’ll do no such thing.’

‘I know you won’t, Kirsty. You’re far too good a human being for that. You’d never make a bank manager. On the other hand, I think you’ll do very well indeed running Fells Inn. Good luck, Kirsty – and take care.’

Afterwards, she smiled and shook her head. What a nice man he was. A nice boy, who had grown up to be every bit as nice as might have been predicted. And what a help he’d been to her.

She frowned with thought. Right. That was done. So the next thing to do was visit Fells again and talk business.

***

Henry was different now. He didn’t seem at all like the man she had come to know over the months.

‘Of course,’ he said solemnly, ‘it will be a big wrench to leave the old place. I still don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.’

‘I understand,’ Kirsty said, equally solemnly.

‘My whole life has been spent here.’

‘So far,’ she pointed out.

He nodded. ‘So far.’

She wondered if that was a tear of regret in the corner of his eye.

‘So many beautiful mornings,’ he droned on. ‘Wonderful friends, too. Customers who are the salt of the earth. And the view of the lake and the mountains. I shall miss it. Oh, how I shall miss it all!’

‘Henry?’

‘Mm?’

‘What a fraud you are. You won’t be able to get out fast enough. You must think I was born yesterday.’

‘Kirsty! How can you say such a thing?’ he asked, looking quite devastated.

‘Because I’ve come to know you so well, Henry. So where will you go now?’

‘Blackpool,’ he said crisply. ‘I’ve got my heart set on a little place on the Golden Mile.’

‘Bright lights, and all?’

‘Exactly. Kirsty.’

Henry was fair when it came to sorting out transfer arrangements and the price he wanted for various items that were not part of the sale.

‘It’s mostly worn out, anyway,’ he said, speaking of the furniture and fittings. ‘If you can use it, keep it. Otherwise...’ He stopped and looked thoughtfully at her. ‘I hope it suits you here, Kirsty. I hope things work out well for you. I really do. And I’ll let you into a secret.’

‘What?’

‘In a way, I will be sorry to leave. Truly. Don’t tell anyone, but I’ll miss the old place. Look after it for me. Make it a success!’

‘I’ll do my best, Henry. I really will. Thank you. Now I must go and have a word with Carol.’

‘You should keep her on. She’s worth her weight in gold.’

‘Oh, I know. Don’t worry. There’s no way I could let Carol go.’

‘That’s it, then,’ Henry said, looking relieved, as if the last problem weighing on his mind had been resolved.

‘And good luck to you, too, Henry,’ Kirsty said. ‘I wish you all the best. You’re a far better man than you like people to think.’

‘I’m just in the wrong place,’ he said with a grin.

‘Not for much longer,’ she pointed out with a grin of her own.

***

Carol was thrilled to hear that Kirsty was to take over the inn.

‘That’s absolutely fabulous. Oh, what good news. I can’t think of anything I’d rather hear.’

Kirsty smiled. ‘Thank you, Carol. I’m pleased you feel that way.’

‘Oh, I do!’

‘Then perhaps you’ll stay?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, new ownership. New boss. You might not fancy that idea. You might be thinking of following Henry to Blackpool.’

Carol laughed. ‘I didn’t know. Is that where he’s going?’

‘Apparently.’

‘That makes a difference.’ Carol screwed up her face and thought about it. ‘I wonder what my old man and the kids would think? They probably wouldn’t miss me, would they?’

Kirsty grinned. ‘Not as much as I would, if you left here. What do I need to offer to get you to stay?’

‘A kind word now and again? Wages paid on time? Help? An end to moaning and complaining every day?’

‘Done! Carol, I want you to be the Assistant Manager. In effect, I want the two of us to run the place. You know how it works. I don’t. I’m new here. So we’ll do it together. And I’ll make sure your wage reflects your true value to Fells Inn. How does that sound? Interested?’

‘Sounds good.’ Carol smiled with delight. ‘We’ll get the old place going between us.’

‘Good. By the way, thinking about the help you’ll need, do you know anyone we might offer a job to?’

‘Oh, yes. There’s one or two girls I’d like to bring in. Workers, you know.’ She grimaced and added, ‘Henry only ever wanted to appoint the ones who looked nice. He was never very interested in the girls who just wanted to do a day’s work.’

‘I realised that soon after I started coming here,’ Kirsty said with a smile.

‘I’ll start having a word with one or two I know. Get them to come in to see you.’

‘Right. That’s probably as far as we can go just now, Carol. We’ll talk again a bit nearer the hand-over date.’ She grimaced. ‘My goodness. There’s a lot to sort out. You’ll have to help me, Carol.’

‘Don’t worry about that. Who do you think has been running the place the last few years? Henry?’

‘Now, now! Henry has been very nice to me today.’

‘I’m sure he has. He must think he’s won the lottery, finding a buyer. He’ll probably move to Blackpool this afternoon, if not sooner.’

It was working out, Kirsty thought. Working out nicely. Everyone happy and satisfied.

‘There’s just one thing, Kirsty?’

‘Hm?’

‘I’m sorry it hasn’t worked out for you and Bob. I had hoped you two would get together. I think you did, too. So I’m very sorry.’

Kirsty shrugged. ‘That’s Life, Carol. We can’t have everything, can we?’

Right at that moment, she was almost convinced that said it all. Water under the bridge. Almost.