Time to Move On (10 page)

‘I hope not. If ever anyone is in the right place, it’s you.’

More snow fell during the night and Betty trudged through it to reach the guest house in the morning. People were out even though it was very early. Deliveries had already made patterns of footsteps. Greetings were exchanged, passers-by waving and shouting encouragement even to complete strangers, children trying to build a snowman, stopping
occasionally
to pelt each other with snowballs. The sound of scraping came from all around as householders cleared the pavements, and they talked about the snow as though it were a rare event.

Luke was staying at the guest house, having got his car stuck in a drift near Treweather’s old farm. When Betty arrived he had made morning tea for them all, and she thanked him and gratefully accepted his help with breakfast. Apart from one man who had taken the opportunity to leave without paying, everything went smoothly.

When she went back to the Ship and Compass, she found a letter for Alun among the morning mail. He received very few letters. Three or four had been brought to him from Jake’s boatyard, where he had worked for a while before coming to the Ship. One or two had come from the employment exchange, but this one, in its long envelope, marked with the name of a firm of solicitors, looked official.

She went out and busied herself making toast and tea allowing him time to open it in private. When she went back he was staring at the pages and, determined not to intrude, she commented on the overnight snow that covered the garden and the rooftops, and he said he’d heard that a car was stranded in a hedge near Treweather’s abandoned old farmhouse. ‘What could it have been doing in that lane? It doesn’t lead any further than those old buildings,’ he said.

‘That was Luke Beynon. He was looking at the old buildings to see if they were worth saving. Forgot how narrow it was I suppose. He walked back to the main road and stayed at the guest house.’

‘He has so many interests it’s a wonder he doesn’t forget where he’s going,’ Alun remarked, playing with the letter.

‘Something important?’

‘Yes. I might be getting some of my money back,’ he told her, tapping the envelope agitatedly. ‘I can’t believe it. Ellis Owen covered his tracks so well, he made it appear that I was the thief.’ He sat down heavily and went on. ‘He emptied my account and left me with debts it took me a long time to clear. The business was lost and no one trusted me enough
for me to start again, even if I’d had the money. If I get some of the money back I’ll be grateful, although having my name cleared is still the most valuable outcome.’

‘Congratulations, Alun. That’s wonderful news. Will it be enough for you to buy a place?’

‘Buy another restaurant, you mean? I don’t know whether I want to. That man knocked the stuffing out of me. I don’t think I have the heart to try again.’

‘Of course you have. You’re still a young man.’

He stared at her in the disconcerting way he had. ‘I’m only a few years younger than you, Betty. Can you imagine starting all over again if you lost this place?’

She wanted to say, yes, if he were beside her, but instead she turned away, and said, ‘I don’t know, but I do know that you can. Strong you are, Alun, and hard working and very good at dealing with people. And with a vision of running a fine establishment of your own to urge you on, you can’t fail.’

‘It wouldn’t be easy on my own. I had a partner to help me last time. She left me when the extent of the trouble was revealed, convinced I was responsible.’

She felt a fierce stab of jealousy that startled her. A wife? Perhaps even children? ‘That must have hurt,’ was all she said.

‘What a pity you can’t work with me,’ he said. ‘A fine team we’d make.’

She couldn’t reply. It was too close to her foolish dream.

From the bedroom window, Seranne looked out at the magical scene and gasped at the beauty of it. She went downstairs and turned on a gas fire and filled the kettle for tea. Then she reached for the shovel she had sensibly brought inside as a precaution and then looked at the long path leading to the lane. It would take a while to deal with that, but the prospect was not unpleasant.

The kettle boiled and she made tea and prepared some bread for
toasting
. Before she left she would ask Kitty if she could bring some shopping back for her, to save her venturing out. She would at least need bread.

After clearing a track through the centre of the path, she dressed in warm clothes and wellingtons, packed shoes and an extra pair of socks and went to see Kitty. The cold hit her as she pushed her way through the deep snow to Kitty’s door. Only then did she think about the long walk in snow that faced her as she made her way to the café. The buses would
need the snow ploughs and the gritting lorries out before they could move and with the snow still falling, it was unlikely they would be running in time for her to get to work on time. This end of the town was hardly a priority. But Mrs Rogers lived much further away and was unlikely to get there by 8.30. It was up to herself to open up.

‘My Bob will get the path cleared and I’ll go in and get the fire
burning
for when you get home,’ Kitty promised, after discussing the few things she would need.

Already chilled, Seranne stopped to add a second pair of socks and another cardigan and set off along the lane after taking a third pair of socks from the rail in case of disasters.

The wind had caused drifts and in places where the snow covered a previous fall, the icy cold snow was deep enough to reach above her wellingtons and fall inside. Thank goodness she had brought extra socks to change into. It was like a child’s game, taking great strides and sinking with each step before hauling her foot free and taking another. She was exhausted when she eventually stepped inside the cold café.

Heating first, then the tea. She was late despite starting out early and there was no sign of Mrs Rogers. Several people were waiting outside and aware of the intense cold she invited them in. ‘You’ll have to wait a while to be served, but it will be a little warmer,’ she said. One lady followed her into the kitchen and started to cut slices of yesterday’s bread ready for toasting. Another went to the greengrocers with a list of her needs and returned followed by the delivery boy.

It wasn’t long before the customers were sipping reviving tea and eating the warm toast, while Seranne quickly prepared soup to serve at lunchtime. She had a feeling this would be more acceptable than
sandwiches
on such a day. Where was Tony Hopkins with her bread and cakes order?

The lady who had helped, paid for her snack before going to see if the buses were running. Others admitted they weren’t going to bother but would go straight back home. More customers arrived, several explained that their electricity had failed. A man walked in and at first she didn’t look up. When she did she saw Luke, who asked for a buttered tea cake and she was immediately flustered.

‘The car is stuck, I’m at the bed and breakfast which is in chaos this morning,’ he explained. ‘Elsie is in hospital, Ed with her, Betty is dashing from one place to the other and I’m in need of a cup of coffee and a bun.’

‘Sorry, but there aren’t any, in fact not much choice at all until the baker comes,’ she said. Then she frowned. ‘Surely they aren’t held up by
snow? They’re only across the road. I wonder what’s happened, they’re always here before this.’

‘I’ll go and see,’ Luke offered. He stood on the step as he fastened his coat letting a blast of cold air into the café.

‘Will you get a loaf for me and one for my neighbour?’ she asked, then, as he hesitated, she shouted, ‘Shut the door! Please!’ She looked around her as though in disbelief, sharing his thoughtlessness with the others.

He apologized and went out smiling. He returned almost immediately with Tony following, both carrying trays.

‘Lucky to have this you are,’ Tony said. ‘You didn’t give an order so we didn’t think you needed anything.’

‘What d’you mean? Of course I need it! I left the order with your sister.’ Saying no more, she concentrated on putting the supplies in their places and serving the steady stream of customers. She gave Luke his teacake and he sat in the corner where he could watch her dashing between customers and the kitchen, taking money, handing out food and returning pleasantries.

He left at 10.30 and Mrs Rogers arrived, wet, cold and exhausted at half past twelve. When she had recovered and checked the till, she was impressed with what Seranne had achieved. The freshly made soup was popular and quickly sold out. Beans or spaghetti on toast, scrambled eggs, anything hot was gratefully accepted and they had the busiest day for weeks. At five o’clock, the snow had stopped but the roads were still treacherous.

‘Best you go early, you’ve had a long day without even a break,’ Mrs Rogers said. ‘Be careful, mind, I haven’t seen a bus so you’ll have to walk. Watch out for cars that might skid.’

Thankfully Seranne gathered up her shopping and prepared to leave. As she reached the pavement Luke stepped forward and took her arm. ‘I thought you might leave early so I came back,’ he said as he pulled her arm through his. He guided her past the bus stop where no passengers stood. The lane was very dark, there were few streetlights and none were lit. He began to talk about the frustration of having to leave his car and how difficult life was without one. ‘Do you drive?’ he asked.

‘No, I’ve never needed to, Mum always drove us. Why?’

‘You seem so capable, it seems natural you’d have learnt. I don’t think much would defeat you. Look at the way you coped today when the snow brought everything to a halt and you’d forgotten to order from the bakery.’

‘I hadn’t forgotten!’ she said, stopping and turning to glare at him. ‘I
went there as usual and handed the list to Babs. But she and Tony were arguing as usual and she probably dropped it, or threw it at him!’

‘Sorry,’ he said pretending to avoid a blow.

This time it was she who laughed. ‘He was waving the peel about like a furious warrior, threatening to knock her head off!’

Their shared laughter warmed her like nothing else had that day. It was natural to invite him in. After the long walk in the deep snow she could hardly abandon him on the doorstep. ‘I have to take this loaf to Kitty, my neighbour, but go inside, she’s sure to have lit the fire for me.’

‘Nice neighbours,’ he commented as he slipped off his wellingtons, took her key and let himself in.

When Seranne returned he helped her off with her coat and
wellingtons
and offered her some socks which he had placed on the fender to warm. ‘Bliss,’ she murmured as she felt the welcome warmth.

She made tea and served a bowl of soup and they sat beside the fire wallowing in the comfort of a gradual thaw. He didn’t say much but as he dressed to leave he turned to her and said, ‘When the weather improves, I can teach you to drive if you wish.’

‘Not in that sports car you won’t!’

‘No fear, I wouldn’t trust you with my MG!’

‘Why bother?’ she asked. ‘I can’t see me owning a car while I work for Cwm Derw’s sad little café!’

‘Is that how you see it, a sad little café?’

‘I think it needs some attention, don’t you?’

‘Such as?’

‘It’s obvious, isn’t it? New decoration, better menu, and home cooking instead of buying from Hopkins’s bakery for a start.’

‘All right, don’t get uppity.’

‘I’m not uppity Well, if I am, it’s because you do ask some obvious questions sometimes.’

‘I’ll try to remember not to,’ he said and she looked at him and saw he was smiling. ‘Driving lessons?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know,’ she hesitated.

‘We can’t arrange anything until the snow clears, so I’ll see you on Saturday evening, we can talk about it and make plans.’

‘I don’t need to talk about driving. How will that help?’

‘I’ll tell you on Saturday.’

She was smiling, excitement growing at the image of meeting him on what was very like a date. He was an intriguing man and despite her usual habit of pushing him away, the attraction was growing and she was
disappointed
when a day passed without seeing him. Saturday seemed a very long way off.

He was about to leave, his hand was on the handle when the door opened and Kitty slithered in, trying not to open the door too wide. She had a purse in her hand. ‘Come to pay for the shopping,’ she said with a glance at Luke. Then she looked at him again, and said, ‘Hello Luke, fancy seeing you here. How’s the wife?’

‘She’s well so far as I know.’

In the stunned silence her question had caused, Kitty sat down and bent forward to test the teapot in the hearth for warmth. ‘Shall I make a fresh cup, Seranne? You staying for another cup, Luke?’

‘He’s just leaving,’ Seranne said at once and ushered him through the door without a thank you for walking her home.

‘How d’you know Luke?’ Kitty asked. ‘I’ve known his mother since we were children at school.’

‘I don’t know him. He walked me home because of the deep snow and no buses, that’s all.’

‘He wasn’t the young man who took you to see your mother?’

‘Well, yes, but I still don’t know him.’

‘Lovely boy.’

‘I’m sure he is. And I bet his wife thinks so too,’ she muttered.

‘Or more fool her,’ Kitty nodded, startling Seranne, who hadn’t
realized
she’d spoken her thoughts aloud.

The arrangement for Saturday that had been very like a date, had to be cancelled. It was no longer possible to see him, or even think about him. As always, anger was her first reaction. How dare he trick her into falling for him and keep the fact of his marriage from her? He was a cheat and a liar. The second, almost simultaneous reaction was disappointment, the automatic anger quickly becoming secondary to her disappointment. She had to make herself unavailable on Saturday. The meeting that had promised so much was no longer possible.

The snow stayed for the rest of the week but gradually the roads were cleared and buses rumbled along, their tyres hissing accompaniment. On Saturday Seranne arranged to go to the pictures with Babs, and left promptly to avoid having to meet Luke. She felt like a fugitive,
imagining
his gaze on her as she and her friend walked along the street.