Beth hurried to get ready. She was due at the pub in ten minutes, having stayed in the hall far too long. She hadn’t wanted to abandon Rachel and the others and now was in a rush.
She arrived at the pub, pink and a bit damp, just on time.
Sukey was behind the bar, relaxed and welcoming. ‘You did well to get here on time, Beth,’ she said, replacing a glass on the shelf. ‘I know you were scrubbing the hall earlier.’
‘Well, I didn’t think I’d worked here long enough to allow myself to be late,’ said Beth.
‘As you can see, we’re not rushed off our feet yet. It will get busy later. You come and settle yourself in. I’ve got things to do. Ring the bell if you need help. Ilana will be in later.’
Beth went behind the bar and looked around her. It was such a welcoming place she felt very lucky to be working here. It was money, company and free heating, all at the same time. The fire was roaring, currently being enjoyed by at least four dogs. Beth still wasn’t up on which dog was whose. She was fairly sure there were a couple of pub dogs, but the others must belong to regulars; however, as there always seemed to be a different combination, she couldn’t be sure.
One of the regulars came up and ordered a pint of Albert Memorial.
‘I hadn’t heard of that before I worked here,’ said Beth as she pulled the handle.
‘It’s special to here. It was created for the pub’s centenary. It’s really good.’ He grinned. ‘I was on the tasting panel. I’m Pete, by the way. I’m in here a lot.’
People began to drift in and Beth found herself getting busier and busier. Where was Ilana? She was just about keeping up although she was aware of a lot of glasses that needed washing when Sukey came down to join her. ‘You’ve done well! Ilana phoned in sick and I should have been down earlier really. But I was fairly sure you could cope and I’ve nearly finished my paperwork. I got a bit behind when we had a guest for a few nights.’
‘You don’t do much B and B, do you? Do I need to cook breakfast?’
Sukey shook her head. ‘No, not much. Only if people really want it. Being single-handed means I don’t have much time. But the rooms are there if people are happy to muck in.’
Beth nodded. ‘If you don’t mind I’ll get some of those dirty glasses and then wash them.’
‘Knock yourself out!’ said Sukey. ‘I usually have to remind people to do that.’
Beth made a point of wiping all the tables after she’d collected the glasses. She loved the way every table was different and nothing seemed to have come from ‘pub central’, which made it all so much more homely. She also loved the stripped floors – so practical – the worn rugs, and the ancient leather sofa that made you just want to curl up in it.
Something made her look up the next time the door opened and she wished she’d taken more time to get ready. It was Charlie.
She let her initial delighted flush die down a bit before she approached the bar, cloth balled up in her hand so he couldn’t see it. ‘Hi!’ she said casually, before slipping behind the bar. Why hadn’t she done more to her hair than just wash it? The short style benefited from a bit of styling foam.
‘Hi!’ he said. ‘I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to see you.’
Beth allowed a frisson of joy waft over her. ‘Oh?’
‘Yeah. It’s about the van. I’ve done it up a bit and wondered if you’d like to come up and see it tomorrow?’
Beth examined her conscience. As far as she had gathered, the mist coat would be going on to the hall tomorrow and they wouldn’t need her to help do that. ‘Should be OK,’ she said, hoping he’d think she’d been mentally running over her busy social calendar. ‘What can I get you to drink?’
Charlie examined her with eyes that told Beth he was very interested in her. She didn’t dare meet his gaze for long so she picked up a glass. ‘Albert Memorial?’
‘Cool. But it had better be a half. I’m driving.’
Beth filled his glass dreamily. Charlie was really cute. It wouldn’t be enough to make him eligible in her mother’s pernickety eyes, but it worked for her. Her mother would take exception to the ring in his ear and the bracelet around his wrist. In her book, men only wore signet rings and, possibly, wedding rings. But by anyone’s standards (except her mother’s) Charlie was gorgeous. It had been a while since she’d really fancied anyone.
‘So, I’ll come and pick you up and if you’re happy with the van you can drive it back.’
‘What about insurance?’
‘Oh don’t worry about that.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘You do really drive, don’t you? Not just one of your mates?’
‘Yes! You asked me before.’ She paused, suddenly full of doubt and not only about driving the van without insurance, even for such a short distance. ‘The van is roadworthy, isn’t it?’
‘Yes! You know it is.’ He smiled to show he wasn’t offended. ‘It’s not great-looking but it’s in good mechanical order.’ His smile became a wicked grin. ‘I’ve cleaned it inside and out but I’ll throw in a Magic Tree to get rid of the smell if you still think it’s there.’
‘Hmm.’ Beth was doubtful about Rachel approving a synthetic perfume like that. She’d probably prefer something more upmarket. But Charlie was being really helpful.
She realised he must think she was doubting the van’s abilities. She had been in it before but she hadn’t really taken that much notice, not as anything other than a ride home. She’d pay more attention this time.
‘Tell you what, you come up and see it tomorrow and if you still think you’d like it I’ll sort out anything you’re unhappy with.’
He gave her a smile that made her wish he wasn’t talking about vans, even though he was being kind as well as helpful.
‘So are you busy, on the farm?’ said Beth, polishing glasses so it looked like she was doing more than chatting.
‘Always busy on the farm. We’ve got work on with the sheep at the moment.’
Beth’s mind instantly turned to fluffy lambs curled up against their mothers against a backdrop of straw bales. It seemed idyllic. ‘How lovely.’
Charlie laughed. ‘You’ll see how lovely you think it is tomorrow. Spend some time up at the farm. I’ll pick you up at nine. Is that too early?’
‘No, that’s fine.’
‘I’ll be there at nine, then.’
It was all Beth could do to stop herself sighing as Charlie moved away.
The following morning Lindy’s mother rang fairly early. ‘Sunday lunch?’ she said blithely, as if there wasn’t a village hall in desperate need of refurbishment.
‘Love to, but Mum, haven’t we got to go and sort out the hall? We haven’t got long.’
‘Raff is doing that spray-painting so there’s not much we can do until he’s finished and it’s dry. We can have lunch. Dad bought a huge leg of lamb yesterday. He’d be disappointed if he couldn’t cook it.’
‘Well, if you’re sure. What time would he like his sous-chef to arrive?’
‘Well, Angus is coming at one, so half eleven would give you both plenty of time.’
‘Angus?’ This was a bit of a shock although a second later Lindy realised she should have predicted her mother would invite him for lunch. Angus and Edward’s parents no longer lived in the area and if Sarah even half expected that someone would be without lunch on a Sunday she would invite them. Lindy wasn’t sure how she felt about it. She’d met him last night, of course, but she’d have her boys with her at lunch. She’d be in full Mummy mode and she wasn’t sure that’s how she wanted him to see her. Although he had said he wanted to be more of an uncle to them … She sighed. Seeing him again had stirred up all sorts of emotions and she wasn’t sure she liked it. She might occasionally feel her life was rather like a still mill pond and long for something to cause the odd ripple but was Angus a ripple she wanted or needed right now?
‘Yes. He was so helpful about the hall yesterday, getting stuck in with getting it ready for painting, it seemed the least I could do. He’s staying at the pub because he’s just bought a house that’s not habitable but Sukey’s not doing Sunday lunch at the moment …’
‘So you asked him.’ Lindy had never told her mother how she felt about Angus but suspected even if she had, her mother’s matchmaking habits would not have been affected. Any young man – even if he was related to the unreliable Edward – was fair game. ‘Well, that’s OK. So will you and Gran take the boys to the swings as usual?’
‘And let you and Dad peel and scrape? Absolutely. And I bought a new jigsaw puzzle we can all do afterwards.’
After they had discussed arrangements some more, Lindy went to find clean clothes for the boys. Sunday lunches had become a much-loved routine. Her father cooked, she assisted and made pudding while her sons spent a happy hour running round like mad things with their more mature female relatives. With luck, some Sunday afternoon P and Q, as her grandmother referred to it, could be had with the aid of a DVD, during which most people had a little nap. But if Angus was there, it would be different – slobbing out would not be appropriate. On the other hand, it would be lovely to catch up with him. She had no idea what Angus had been up to recently, for even on the rare occasions she communicated with her ex, Edward was not one for family gossip – to be fair, in part because he knew she was sensitive about their lack of interest in the boys. But Angus seemed to want to get more involved. She would just have to brace herself for him mentioning a long-term girlfriend or something. If he had children, he probably would have mentioned it when he was talking about the boys.
‘Grandpa!’ yelled the boys as he opened the door. They flung themselves at him and somehow he managed to get both of them up into his arms although Ned was tall for a six-year-old.
‘One day those children will realise that I’m quite nice to them too,’ said Sarah mildly.
‘They adore you, Mum,’ said Lindy, who was always slightly embarrassed by her boys’ overt preference.
‘I know they do. They probably just want a father figure or something,’ said Sarah. Billy, the three-year-old, went up to her and hugged her legs. Sarah picked him up. ‘So? Who’s coming to the swings! Yay! We’re meeting Gran there.’
‘Can we make biscuits, Sarah?’ asked Billy, who always wanted to bake.
‘Maybe later but now we’re going to the swings with Gran. If we don’t join her she’ll feel silly playing there on her own.’ Sarah had decided it was far too confusing to have two ‘Grans’ in the family and had insisted on being called Sarah. It was absolutely nothing to do with her feeling too young to be called Granny, she insisted.
James, Lindy’s father, said, ‘We’d better crack on. If you want to make a fancy pudding because we’ve got company you’ll need to start.’ James was a keen cook and loved cooking large meals for family and friends but he ran a tight kitchen and he liked things to be served at the time he had declared they would be.
‘I’m not doing anything very fancy but if there are still apples, I’ll make a pie,’ said Lindy.
Later, as Lindy set the table, she was aware she was nervous. Suppose the boys didn’t behave well? Angus might go off and never want to see them again. Their father hardly saw them and Angus was only their uncle. Although she didn’t think her boys actually preferred her father to her mother, maybe her mother was right and they did want a father figure? It was something she had never really been able to get her head round, introducing another man into their lives. She knew she would hate it if someone else disciplined them. She didn’t even like her beloved parents telling them off at all crossly. But having an uncle would be good for them. Her uncles had always been great fun when she was little. But would it be good for her though? Especially when said uncle had been someone she’d once adored? As she took her crumble-topped apple pie out of the oven, she hoped that Angus liked his crumble topping ever so slightly singed.
Angus, Lindy discovered, was not one for small talk. He’d always seemed very aloof but that was normal for a twenty-one-year-old in the presence of the sixteen-year-old friend of his brother. She couldn’t help reflecting that while Raff had a lot wrong with him, he didn’t create awkward silences. Angus, who seemed rather too smartly dressed for a Sunday lunch that involved small children, seemed quite content to answer questions with more polite versions of ‘yes’ and ‘no’.
Lindy wanted to ask if he was likely to be around long but hadn’t been able to think of a way of putting it that didn’t sound rude. To be fair to Angus, he had asked James about the garden but as James didn’t do gardening and had no interest in it either, this didn’t create a lot of chat.
After a particularly long pause, Lindy bravely said, ‘So have you been to see your family up in Northampton? Are they well?’
‘Yes,’ said Angus. ‘They’re both on good form. Dad still plays golf three or four days a week. My mother runs a lot of local charities – environmental ones mostly. She’s very keen on recycling.’
‘Oh, so are we!’ said James.
Lindy, who’d been on the receiving end of some of Angus’s mother’s recycled gifts, was less enthusiastic although she didn’t comment. Angus’s parents, her boys’ paternal grandparents, were of the school that ‘children had far too many toys these days’. Lindy, who was bringing up hers with the minimum financial support the law would allow from their father, felt in her boys’ case this wasn’t actually true. Fortunately for her and her children, they rarely visited.