A Place of Her Own Page 9

  ‘Is at school,’ Jenny said firmly, ‘which is where she needs to be.’

  Will nodded. ‘This evening, then? Come up to the house. I’ll make you a wonderful spaghetti Bolognese.’

  ‘That sounds nice, but isn’t it your turn to come here?’

  ‘I don’t know. Can’t remember. And it doesn’t matter anyway. You’re busier than I am at the moment.’

  ‘Nothing on?’

  ‘Not much. I’m between things right now.’

  She smiled. ‘Then I’d love to come up tonight. Thank you.’

  But after Will had gone she wondered if she had been wise to accept his invitation. She had so much to do here. She couldn’t afford the time to be out as much in the evenings as Will seemed to like. Besides, she had seen rather a lot of him lately, and she wasn’t sure that was such a good idea.

  Also, she needed to see Hannah after supper. And Tom. Rather, she wanted to see them, especially Tom. She’d seen so little of him since Christmas Eve. She missed him.

  Her thoughts returned to Will. She enjoyed his company. She liked listening to him talk so interestingly about his work, his life. He could be so amusing. He was such a repository of local information, as well. He knew everything and everyone in and about the district. Will was such a good friend.

  And he liked her. She knew that. She wasn’t totally insensitive, whatever Kat thought. Maybe Kat and Lucy were right, though. Maybe she should respond more eagerly to his approaches. She could do a lot worse than throw in her lot with Will.

  She sighed and poked the fire, causing a shower of sparks to leap from the logs and fly up the chimney like demented spirits. She wasn’t sure about Will. Somehow she just wasn’t. Even now.

  Natural caution, she supposed. Surely it wasn’t such a bad thing, was it? She’d been single so long. She didn’t need to rush into things now. In time, perhaps, she would feel ready to contemplate a future with Will. And then she would let him know. Quite clearly. Just as Kat and Lucy had advised. Not now, though. Not yet. The shop needed all her attention until it was fully off the ground.

  She called next-door to see Hannah before she visited Will. Tom led the way into the kitchen.

  ‘Come in, Jenny. I’ll just give Hannah a shout. She’s washing her hair, or something. ‘ He grinned and added, ‘Or something else you ladies do. Don’t ask me!’

  ‘Oh, don’t bother her, Tom. I’ll catch her another time.’

  ‘Sure?’

  She nodded. ‘I’m in a rush. I’m going to see Will Renfrew.’

  Tom nodded but didn’t comment. ‘No time for a coffee?’

  She hesitated, but not for long. ‘A quick one, perhaps.’

  He picked up the kettle. He was looking so well, she thought. Happy, even. Things must be going better for him.

  ‘I see you’ve set up your workshop in the shed?’ she said.

  ‘Oh, yes. I’m in business now. I can’t thank you enough for letting me have it.’

  She shrugged. ‘I don’t need it. Not much of it, anyway.’

  He made the coffee and sat down across the table from her. He gazed at her and smiled.

  ‘What?’ she said. ‘What have I done now?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he said, shaking his head and laughing. ‘Not a thing.’

  She grinned. She couldn’t help it. ‘You didn’t use to laugh,’ she pointed out. ‘Not at me, you didn’t.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t use to have much to laugh about.’

  ‘And you do now?’

  He stopped laughing and nodded. ‘Now I do,’ he said.

  He touched the back of her hand briefly with his finger tips. She shivered and looked down.

  She wondered all that night if she was right about what she had seen in his eyes and heard in his voice.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Happy as Jenny was with life in the shop, in other ways January turned out not to be so good. The weather became cold and grey, and so did Jenny’s spirits. Customers were few. Sales even fewer. But the bills kept on coming, more than ever as her suppliers wanted payment and as the utility companies caught on to the idea that she was there and the shop open.

  Will tried to cheer her up, but with little success. As the money – her precious money! – kept on pouring away, she had little appetite for Will’s tales of the heroic struggle artists such as he had to endure.

  ‘The children won’t sit still,’ he complained. ‘Not for a moment. Their mothers threaten them, cajole them, punish them, but all to no avail. With Christmas and presents behind them, nothing in the world will make them sit still to have their portrait painted.’

  ‘You can hardly blame them,’ Jenny pointed out. ‘Even the Queen must find it an unbearable ordeal at times.’

  ‘Perhaps so. But the cats and dogs are no better.’

  ‘Will!’ Jenny cried with exasperation. ‘Dogs and cats can’t be expected to sit still for you.’

  ‘Perhaps not.’

  He looked un-persuaded.

  ‘Anyway,’ she added in an emollient tone, ‘who are all these people with money to spend on portraits. Minor aristocrats?’

  ‘You’d be surprised. Farming families keeping up a tradition. Newly successful business people, especially older gentlemen with young, second wives.’

  Jenny laughed and shook her head, wondering how she was ever going to get him out of the house.

  ‘I even suspect I’m laundering the money of the occasional crime boss,’ he added darkly. ‘Not all my clients seem like discerning patrons of the arts. What?’ he added.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Will!’ Jenny stifled a yawn.

  ‘Tired, or just bored?’

  She gave a rueful smile. ‘Tired, I’m afraid. I think I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I have such a lot to do, and I really am very tired. Do you mind?’

  ‘Of course not.’ He got up out of the chair. ‘You’re a very busy lady. I know that. And some things won’t wait.’

  She nodded, relieved to have got him moving.

  ‘How about Thursday evening? Fancy a trip to the theatre in Berwick? Think you can make it?’

  ‘The Maltings?’

  He nodded.

  ‘What’s on?’

  ‘A film – a French film about the life of Edith Piaf.’

  ‘Oh, yes. I read about that. Yes. I’d love to go.’

  ‘Good. There’s something I’d like to talk to you about, as well. Ask you about, rather. About us. The future, and so on.’ He stopped and looked slightly embarrassed. ‘When you’re in the mood, that is. Not ... Not too tired.’

  She nodded. She could guess what it would be, and she was thankful he was postponing the conversation. He was right. She wasn’t in the mood. Not at all. Not now. She was grateful he’d realised that. She was grateful she didn’t have to say anything more.

  But she knew the conversation was merely being postponed, and she also knew it was one she didn’t really want to have. Not yet, at least. If ever, she thought despondently. Why, oh why couldn’t he just leave it? Why couldn’t they just continue to be friends?

  Soon Will was on his way, and she was alone again. Alone with her account books and her worries about the shop. Yet even that was better than enduring Will’s amusing stories that for some time now had ceased to enthral her.

  Oh, what was wrong with her! How could she think like that? How could she be so glad to see the back of him?

  Well, perhaps it wasn’t so much of a mystery. It was the shop, she decided. That’s what it was. Until, and unless, things improved, she wasn’t going to be very interested in seeing anyone who wasn’t a genuine customer. She couldn’t afford to be. She regretted now that she had accepted Will’s theatre invitation. She had only done so to get him out of the house. Maybe she could conjure up an excuse and change her mind? Maybe.

  But … Dear Will! She was so lucky to have such a good friend. He was such a lovely man. And she knew it. She did. It was just that she was so tired these days. And so worried.

&nbs
p; The door bell dragged her out of her thoughts. She glanced at the clock. Eight-thirty. Who could it be at this time of night?

  ‘Hello, Tom! I didn’t expect to see you.’

  ‘Hannah said you weren’t feeling so good. I just wondered if there was anything I could do?’

  He looked concerned. She gave a wan smile. ‘Come in, Tom!’

  He followed her inside and shut the door. She led the way into the kitchen. ‘Coffee?’

  ‘I’ll not stay, Jenny. Not if you’re not well. Is there anything I can help you with?’

  ‘I’m just tired, Tom. That’s all.’ She switched the kettle on. ‘Worn out, more like it. Too many worries. But it’s good to see you,’ she added with a smile.

  ‘Worries? The shop, you mean?’

  She nodded. ‘There haven’t been many customers since Christmas. But the bills keep on coming.’

  ‘Things will pick up in the spring,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry.’

  She smiled. ‘I hope so.’

  ‘I could find you some customers,’ he suggested. ‘Bang a few heads together, drag them in. Make them buy a few things. How would that be?’

  It was absurd, but she began to laugh. ‘Oh, Tom!’ she said, ‘I feel better already.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jenny turned in alarm as Hannah burst into the shop and flopped onto a chair. The poor girl looked very upset.

  ‘‘What’s wrong, Hannah? Hannah!’

  ‘Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.’

  Jenny didn’t pursue it. She studied her visitor for a moment. Then she quietly turned her back and continued checking through the invoices she had been looking at. The big clock in the wall ticked and tocked. Outside, the wind tugged at the edges of the window. A timber lorry passed by, heavily laden with forest giants, and the whole building trembled with it. Hannah sniffed. Then she sniffled.

  Jenny stood up and quietly went over to her. She knelt down and gave her a hug, and she gently smoothed the hair away from her eyes, eyes that were brimming with tears.

  ‘It’s that woman!’ Hannah blurted out. ‘It’s her again.’

  Jenny was puzzled. ‘What woman? I don’t understand.’

  ‘Her from the council!’

  Ah! Jenny was less puzzled now. The Education Welfare Officer, or whatever her correct title was, must have come again about truancy. She’d heard about her before.

  ‘But you’ve been attending school regularly lately, haven’t you? What’s the problem?’

  ‘It’s not me. It’s James. He’s the problem. I told him! Dad told him, as well.’

  ‘So what’s happened now?’

  ‘She wants him to sign something. She says he’ll be up in court next time if he doesn’t. Then it’ll be … custody? Is that the right word?’

  Jenny nodded. ‘It could be.’

  This sounded a worrying development. The authorities must have tired of speaking and writing to James, and to Tom. It was hard to blame them.

  ‘That woman’s really mean,’ Hannah insisted. ‘She says James does nothing, causes trouble all the time, and...’

  ‘Is she there now?’

  Hannah nodded.

  Jenny guessed Tom would be out of his depth, faced with officialdom, backed up by legal powers – especially if it was a woman! He would be too polite. He wouldn’t feel he could argue with her.

  ‘Can you look after the shop for a few minutes, Hannah?’

  ‘Yes. But why? What are you going to do?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Jenny confessed. ‘But I’m going to do something. I’m going to see if I can help. There must be something I can do.’

  She didn’t bother knocking or ringing the door bell. She walked straight in and made her way to the kitchen, the usual gathering place,

  They were there, the three of them, gathered round the big farmhouse table. Tom himself, looking worried and dispirited, James, in his most sullen and un-cooperative mood. And a smartly dressed woman, mid-thirties, in a black suit and white blouse, blonde hair cut severely short.

  ‘Hello, everyone!’ Jenny said brightly. ‘Sorry to interrupt.’

  They all looked at her, puzzled and perhaps curious. Relieved, too, in a couple of cases.

  ‘Jenny!’ Tom said, getting to his feet, trying hard to smile a welcome.

  ‘Tom. Hello, James. Oh, I see you’ve got a visitor?’

  She gazed at the woman and waited expectantly.

  ‘This is Miss Gregg, from the County Council,’ Tom said quickly.

  ‘The Education Welfare Service,’ Miss Gregg added quickly. ‘And you are…?’

  ‘Oh, I’m just Jenny Morrison from “Good Times”, the shop next-door.’

  ‘Actually, Miss Morrison, we’re having an important meeting. I wonder of you would mind coming back later?’

  ‘Miss Gregg’s come about James,’ Tom said quickly.

  ‘Oh, I won’t hold you up,’ Jenny said, bright smile firmly in place. ‘I just wanted a quick word with James. Then I’ll be on my way.’

  ‘Perhaps you can...’ Miss Gregg began.

  Jenny ignored her and turned to James. ‘The computer’s down again, James. I’m hoping you’ll be able to come and sort it out for me, like you did last time. Are you terribly, terribly busy? Oh, and yes, I did remember to switch it on at the plug! So that’s not the problem this time.’

  James stared at her. Bewilderment turned quickly to amusement.

  ‘It’ll be the anti-virus software,’ he said. ‘It’s interfering with the start-up programme. What you need is...’

  Jenny continued smiling and she nodded encouragement as James launched into a technical explanation that she didn’t even begin to understand. She hoped Miss Gregg was impressed. She certainly was herself.

  ‘I know you’ve got a lot on at the moment,’ Jenny said eventually. ‘Hannah told me. But when do you think you might be able to take a look?’

  ‘Maybe tonight?’ he said. ‘Later on? I could have a quick look. See if we need to order new software. Or spare parts for the machine. You might need some more memory capacity. If it’s going to be a big job I’ll not be able to get at it straight away, but with a bit of luck it won’t be.’

  Jenny closed her eyes for a moment on Miss Gregg’s blind side. Perfect! James was playing his part beautifully.

  ‘The computer’s so important to me,’ she said, turning to address the visitor. ‘My business is totally dependent on it. I don’t know what I’d do without James.’

  Miss Gregg gave Jenny a cool look. Then she glanced at James. ‘You didn’t mention any of this,’ she said severely. ‘I wasn’t aware you had this … interest.’

  James shrugged. ‘You never asked.’

  Jenny smiled to herself and turned away. ‘Thank you!’ she called, heading for the door. ‘Sorry to interrupt.’

  Fingers crossed, she thought to herself as she left the house. Fingers crossed and chin up!

  Chapter Twenty

  The bell rang as someone entered the shop briskly. Jenny straightened up from the box she was unpacking and turned to see who it was.

  ‘Hello!’ Miss Gregg called.

  ‘Oh, hello. Can I help you?’

  Miss Gregg didn’t look quite so severe now. She was smiling, in fact. ‘That was very nicely done,’ she said.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Your intervention with the Laidlaws. You carried it off very well.’

  She seemed friendly, rather than sarcastic. Jenny began to relax. ‘I’m pleased you think so.’

  ‘Oh, I do! It may well have the effect I believe you intended.’

  Jenny nodded and smiled. ‘That would be excellent. Can I offer you a coffee, or tea?’

  ‘Coffee would be very welcome. It smells lovely. Thank you.’

  ‘Have a seat. Please.’

  Miss Gregg sat down and yawned. ‘I’m so tired all the time,’ she complained. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me these days.’

  ‘Stress, probably,’ Jenny su
ggested, ‘if you have many youngsters like James to deal with.’

  ‘Oh, there’s a lot worse than him, believe me!’

  ‘I’m glad you see it that way.’

  Miss Gregg took the mug Jenny held out to her. Her fingers traced the twisting vine curling away from the handle.

  ‘This is pretty.’

  ‘Locally made,’ Jenny said. ‘Like all my stuff.’

  ‘And such lovely flowers! They won’t be local, though, not at this time of year.’

  ‘From Jersey, I think,’ Jenny said, glancing at the latest bouquet, which had arrived that morning.

  Miss Gregg nodded and gathered herself. ‘All the times I’ve seen James, and his father, I never knew about his interest in computers. It’s not surprising, of course, a lad his age, but neither of them ever saw fit to mention it.’

  ‘He’s good,’ Jenny said. ‘Genuinely interested, too.’

  ‘So I gather, thanks to you.’

  Jenny smiled and shrugged the compliment aside, feeling a little embarrassed. ‘Will it help, knowing that?’

  ‘Oh, yes. I really do think so. It could save his bacon.’ Miss Gregg shook her head and chuckled. ‘But why didn’t he say something? He just sits and sulks usually! I can’t get anything out of him.’

  ‘Is that so unusual, with teenage boys in trouble?’

  Miss Gregg laughed. ‘Point taken. I suppose not, no. I’m Sarah, by the way.’

  ‘Jenny.’

  They smiled at one another.

  Jenny poured more coffee. As she did so, she gathered her thoughts and tried to put them into words.

  ‘I think – I know – James and his sister have had a difficult time since their mother died. Tom, too. Tom has done his best, bless him, but you can’t be both mother and father, however hard you try. It’s impossible.’

  ‘You’re right. Absolutely.’ Sarah took a sip of coffee. ‘Anyway, I’m going to arrange for James to do some IT courses. He seems pleased at the prospect. I’m daring to hope this will turn the corner for him. Maybe even get him back to school.’

  ‘Wonderful!’ Jenny smiled with delight. ‘And the trouble he’s in?’

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing much. I’m going to draw up a contract with him, to make sure of his commitment. Then we’ll go ahead. If he fulfils his side of the bargain, his slate will be wiped clean.’