11 The Teashop on the Corner (41 page)

Her thoughts drifted to Will, presently away buying materials to make a counter for her. They followed him quite a lot if she dared to admit it to herself. He was a true prize as a tenant: he
was considerately quiet when he had to leave early in the mornings, paid his rent on time and even wiped down work surfaces after he had used them – Martin would never have stooped so low.
Will Linton wouldn’t be single for long. Some very attractive woman would spot him and fall for him and soon he would be asking Carla if he could be released from his rental agreement and he
would leave her at the mercy of having to find another tenant. Oh, she hoped that wouldn’t be too soon. The thought of not seeing his cheery, cheeky face in the kitchen, hearing him sing in
the bath, or chatting to him as the kettle boiled was too sad to think about – especially as she was so happy at the moment.

The idea of him leaving Dundealin made Carla realise she had become far too fond of Will Linton, far too quickly.

Just after tea, Leni and Ryan both felt a stab of cold fear shoot through them on hearing the sharp knock at the door, although a second later they heard a strong Irish voice
say, ‘It’s me, Shaun.’

Leni jumped up to unbolt the door.

‘I came to see that everything was all right with you,’ he said as Leni moved aside to let him in.

‘Yes, yes, fine and dandy,’ replied Leni. ‘Come in.’

‘Have you got that injury looked at?’

‘No,’ Leni shook her head, dismissing it. ‘It’s okay. Really, just a bruise on my back. Can I get you a coffee?’

He wanted to say no, that he’d popped by because he happened to be in the area and it seemed natural to check. He didn’t want to get involved. Even though he wasn’t in the area
and had made a special trip over.

‘A wee one would be good, thank you.’

‘Ryan?’

‘I’m all right, ta. Hello Mr Mac.’

‘Hello,’ Shaun half-grunted in reply.

‘It was strange not seeing the teashop open today,’ said Shaun, following Leni into the kitchen.

‘I should have put a notice in the window,’ mused Leni. ‘I hope I didn’t miss much custom.’

‘The lady at the flower shop called over, I saw. Didn’t see anyone else.’

‘Ah she must be so excited. Two days to opening.’ Leni spooned some coffee into two cups. Shaun’s had Mr Rochester’s face on it, Leni’s had a quotation from
Persuasion
:
But if Anne will stay, no one so proper, so capable as Anne
.

That summed Leni Merryman up perfectly, thought Shaun. Capable. Her boat coursed confidently through life with its sails slicing through the wind with no account of waiting storms. That’s
why she had useless locks on her door and was stealing a boy from the roughest family in South Yorkshire. She made King Midas look like Mr Bean.

‘Have you thought any more on what you are going to do about the boy?’ asked Shaun quietly as he reached behind him and nudged the door between the kitchen and lounge shut.

‘The way I see it, Mr McCarthy, I can’t
do
anything other than what I am doing.’

‘I get the feeling you haven’t really considered what you’re dealing with,’ said Shaun, a sharp impatient note in his voice.

‘You think I should drop him back off at a home where he obviously wasn’t cared for?’ Leni’s large mud-coloured eyes rounded at him.

‘Do you think his family aren’t going to want him back when they find out any child benefits stop coming to them?’ Shaun tried not to raise his voice, but it was getting
increasingly difficult with Mrs Idealistic here. ‘They might not care about the boy, but they’ll give a damn about the money they get for him.’

‘They can keep drawing their money. I don’t want it.’

‘Did he go to school today?’ Shaun asked, but he knew the answer already. Leni had stayed at home with him, it was clear, and that’s why she hadn’t opened up the
teashop.

‘I kept him off. Yesterday was traumatic for him. He’ll be going tomorrow as normal.’

‘Normal?’ Shaun dropped a dry laugh. There was nothing normal about this set-up. ‘I bet you didn’t ring the school and explain the truth of it. You’ll have
pretended to be his step-mother or his sister, no doubt.’

She didn’t respond, which gave him all the answer he needed.

‘Oh, Leni, you’ll be wrapping yourself up in a web of lies and it’ll do you no good at all. The authorities will have to know what’s going on. His doctor, his school need
to know a change of address. And when they do, the benefits people will be down on the O’Gowans like hawks wanting their money back. And they’ll come looking for you. Because
that’s what they’re like. Nothing is their fault, so you’ll be to blame.’

Shaun raked his hand over his cropped peppered hair. Her ship was going to get a cannonball in its side before long. She was too intent on being a do-gooder to see it coming and it would sink
her. He didn’t want that to happen to her.

Leni put the coffee down in front of Shaun none too gently. It splashed up over the top and landed on the table. She noticed he had called her Leni for the first time and the word coming from
his mouth had a strange effect on her.

‘I’m taking it one day at a time,’ she replied, her voice tight. ‘All I know is that what I’m doing feels right. At least right for Ryan. If I turn him in to the
care authorities, the chances are he’ll be whisked away to strangers. I can fight my own battles, he can’t. I can keep him for a couple of weeks without informing anyone, I checked on
the internet. We will see what happens after that.’

She hasn’t a clue what she’s getting into, thought Shaun. He had warned her about employing an O’Gowan and she hadn’t listened then and she had no intention of listening
now. Maybe if he had left her to get her face smashed in it would have made her realise that the world wasn’t made up of cakes and nice china cups and arty-farty stationery. She needed a
reality check. He didn’t know why he was even bothering to have this conversation, really. It was none of his business. She was nothing to him. But he still didn’t want her to get hurt
– physically or otherwise.

The coffee was milky and he was able to drink it straight down without it burning his throat. He set his empty mug on the table.

‘Thanks for the drink. I’ll be away.’

‘Thank you,’ said Leni, calmly now, the tightness gone from her voice. ‘I mean it. You’ve been very kind.’

Shaun shrugged away the compliment. Leni led the way to the front door. Ryan was playing Candy Crush on an iPad. He waved at Shaun and smiled. Shaun saw in the boy’s eyes that he’d
been given semi-hero status. An O’Gowan looking up to someone who wasn’t another O’Gowan – that was a first. Then he remembered how the string of a boy had tackled his
brother to protect the cat and Leni. That wasn’t typical O’Gowan behaviour. Then he recalled how Leni had thrown herself at O’Gowan to protect the boy. As a proper mother would
do.

As Shaun opened his car door he looked back at the cottage and saw Ryan and Leni framed in the window. He hoped the authorities didn’t find out about him. It was better that he stayed in a
warm, kind house than experience anything like what he’d had to put up with. He humphed to himself.
Care.
Whoever came up with that word to describe the system he’d been
through should have been strung up.

Molly felt more lost and lonely than she ever had in her whole life. Even with her beloved sister and brother-in-law glued to her side, she didn’t know what to do with
herself. The house felt empty without Harvey’s laugh, his presence, the scent of his aftershave in the air. Molly had sunk her nose into his jacket and inhaled hoping to feel him near again,
just for a second, but instead she had felt his loss even more.

Dear Bernard had insisted on dealing with the coroner’s office and the funeral director and Molly knew that Harvey could be in no safer hands.

‘Darling, is there anything I can do for you?’ asked Margaret. ‘Do you want me to ring Graham?’

Molly answered by way of a mirthless peal of laughter. ‘No. Definitely not.’

She had no doubt that she would hear from her son again though. She expected him to try and prove she was insane and unable to handle her finances. Well, he could shove his power of attorney
plans up his giant jacksey. Molly would be ready for him if he tried that one. She had reserves of long-saved fury to vent and a clarity of thought now that she didn’t have in her younger
days.

Her life had been tossed up in the air these past four weeks and nothing would ever be the same. For so many years her life had felt as if it were running on the wrong rails, a gauge that she
had tried to fit to, but never had. Now she knew why; Harvey’s return had shifted her life back onto the proper track. He had gone but their brief time together had left her with a precious
legacy. She felt she no longer had to try to love a son who would have seen her shoved in an old people’s home as soon as he had papers signed to say she was doolally. She had learned that
Harvey had loved her and never stopped loving her and would have still loved her had he known what had happened to her in childhood. She thought by telling him that she would feel grimier than
ever, but he had made her feel clean, as if all the dirt of the past had been scrubbed from her.

‘Margaret, dear, would you take me to the teashop on Spring Hill tomorrow. I’d like to let the people there know about Harvey. They were his friends,’ said Molly.

*

Will had worked hours into the night to make a counter for the shop to Carla’s specifications. He had cleared a space in the shed and used it as a workshop. She was
absolutely delighted with it when he drove up to Spring Hill the next morning and unloaded it out of the van. He found himself comparing her giddy delight with Nicole’s reactions whenever
he’d given her anything. She had received her presents – and there were a lot of them – with the merest modicum of thanks, as if they were the expected norm. The name Tiffany on a
box wouldn’t even prod one heartbeat out of sync. And here was a woman leaping about like a Bichon Frisé on amphetamine because he’d knocked together a few pieces of wood so she
could put her telephone on top of it. He felt himself smiling at her delight more than she was smiling at the counter.

She almost hugged him. Then at the last moment she thought that might be inappropriate and stopped herself.

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you. Will, it’s perfect. You must tell me what you want. I presume you’d rather have the cash in your hand.’

‘Oh, I’ll tot up the cost of the materials later,’ said Will. ‘You can buy me a toasted teacake though on account. I haven’t had any breakfast.’

‘Consider it done,’ said Carla, snatching up her handbag. ‘I might even throw in an Americano.’

After getting Ryan safely off to school with half a pigsworth of bacon buttie inside him, Leni drove over to Spring Hill, unlocked the shop and walked into her lovely welcoming
little world. The only traces that remained of that unpleasant business with Leslie O’Gowan were a few lumps of chocolate pie and cream on the floor and wall that were quickly wiped up with a
cloth and the mop. Miraculously she found the glass cake stand still intact and laughed to herself.

She loved the Teashop on the Corner so much. Anne would be so proud of her. She wished she would walk through the door, all sunshine-skinned and smiling. Leni imagined her staring into the
cabinets and exclaiming in that full-of-joy voice that she
must
have that handbag,
oh my God, Mum, I’ve changed my mind. I have to have that Kindle cover instead. Quick get the
key, Mum, before I burst with the anticipation.

Annie always loved opening the boxes of delivered stock at home, seeing the goods. They were both book and stationery mad and every delivery was like a mini Christmas for them.

You need a shop, Mum. You’ll be lonely when I’m at uni.
It had been Anne’s idea.

And now Leni had that shop. And her daughter had never seen it.

Today, she had decided, would be Thomas Hardy Tuesday. Casterbridge custard cake and Obscure coffee and walnut gateau were on offer.

Mr Singh was already there when Will and Carla came over. He was inspecting the cabinets, searching for things to buy that he didn’t need but merely wanted to own.

‘Come in, come in, how lovely to see you,’ he greeted Carla, as if he had suddenly acquired ownership of the teashop. Behind the counter, Leni winked at the couple.

‘Carla, look at this, isn’t it beautiful?’ said Mr Singh, pulling her gently by the sleeve towards the cabinet. He pointed to a wooden writing slope. ‘It has secret
compartments. It is an exact copy of the one used by Thomas Hardy and today there is ten per cent off. I think I might have to buy it. What do you think?’

‘What would you use it for?’ asked Will, appraising the workmanship. It was a damned good copy of Victorian woodworking.

‘I don’t know,’ said Mr Singh with a gurgle of a laugh. ‘You buy stationery and then work it out later.’

‘Exactly,’ called Leni. ‘There is a lot of coveting going on in the stationery world.’

‘Mad,’ said Will, shaking his head but smiling.

‘You must buy it, of course, Mr Singh. Oh by the way this is Will, my . . .’ Carla began to introduce the man at her side and then verbally froze.
Friend
sounded a little
presumptuous.
Lodger
sounded slightly condescending. She plumped for ‘master counter-maker. I now have a proper reception desk.’

Mr Singh seized Will’s hand in a strong man-shake. ‘Delighted to meet you,’ he said.

‘You’re in a very good mood today, Mr Singh,’ said Leni.

‘I am going to be a granddad,’ he beamed. ‘My little Siana is pregnant. I am going to be
Babba Singh.
Doesn’t it sound wonderful?’

‘Oh Mr Singh, what fabulous news,’ said Leni, clapping her hands together. ‘I think that is cause for a celebration. Tea and cakes are on the house for you all.’

‘No, no,’ protested Mr Singh.

‘Oh I insist,’ said Leni.

‘You are going to be bankrupt soon, I think,’ said Mr Singh with a sigh.