Authors: Miranda Barnes
He was in a strange mood that evening. She sensed it immediately. Pleasant, open, more at ease. Something had changed, possibly for the better.
He stood up as she approached and pulled out a chair for her.
‘Thank you.’ She sat down and then slumped in exaggerated fashion. ‘Are you as weary as me, Bob, after today?’
‘You get used to it,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘I’ve been up there more times than I’ve had hot dinners.’
‘How often do you come here?’
He looked at her and shrugged. ‘Quite often, I suppose. No pattern, though. Just when I feel like it. I’m self-employed. So I can please myself.’
She left it there. But she realised now what the difference was. He was talking more easily about himself. Perhaps because he was more used to her. But she felt it would still be best to take it easy, and avoid seeming to interrogate him about how he lived.
Carol appeared with their meals. If she thought it surprising they were sitting together, nothing in her face said so.
‘Cumbrian sausage,’ Carol said, placing Bob’s plate before him, ‘and chicken curry for you, Madam.’
‘Is it hot?’ Kirsty asked.
‘It might be,’ Carol advised cautiously. ‘Chef isn’t in a good mood.’
But it was fine. Very nice. Just right after a day in the hills.
‘The food here is always pretty good,’ Kirsty commented to Bob.
‘Oh, I like everything here,’ he said with a chuckle. He shrugged and added, ‘There’s nowhere I’d rather be.’
‘You like the peace and the quiet?’
‘It’s just about the only place I do feel at peace.’
It was a strange remark. Kirsty didn’t know what to make of it. They ate in silence for a little while. Then she said, ‘Better than at home?’
He gave her a wry smile. ‘I don’t really have a home any more. I used to. Now I just have a house, an empty house.’
Oh, dear. She waited. She waited for him tell her in his own way – if he wanted to tell her at all. She guessed marital breakdown had come into it.
‘Three years’ ago,’ Bob said slowly, ‘my family was destroyed in a single day. I lost my wife and two sons.’
Kirsty winced and pushed her plate aside. ‘Bob,’ she said gently, ‘don’t say anything you don’t want to. You don’t have to explain anything to me.’
He shrugged again. ‘It’s all right. It’s no secret. We’d rented a villa in Greece for a couple of weeks. The first holiday in a long time. Beautiful place. The kids loved it. We all did.
‘One night my wife persuaded me to go by myself to a local bar where we knew they would have a Man U game on the telly. She knew I would like to see it, but she and the kids couldn’t sit in a bar all evening. Anyway, she said they needed an early night.
‘So I went, had a couple of beers, watched the game, wandered back happy as a king. I thought they were all asleep. It was a long time before I realised they weren’t.’
Kirsty’s heart was pounding. She felt sick with dread. She stared and waited, not sure she wanted to hear any more but unable not to listen.
‘Faulty water heater, they said at the enquiry. Carbon monoxide poisoning. None of them even woke up.’
‘I’m so sorry, Bob.’ She gripped his hand hard. ‘I had no idea.’
He just shrugged.
But she knew now what his prescription was for. He had every right to be depressed.
‘What about you?’ Bob asked over coffee. ‘What about your life?’
‘Me?’ She chuckled nervously. ‘Nothing much to say, really. I live alone. Boring job. My long-time boyfriend and I called it a day recently. My mum died a couple of years’ ago. No other family that I’m in contact with.’
‘So you come here?’
She nodded. ‘I needed something new in my life, and the inn appeared like a godsend. I used to come here as a child with Mum and Dad, and I always remembered it as a place where I was happy. So I came back to see what it’s like now, and I fell in love with it all over again. Then I got to thinking about relieving poor Henry of his burden, and taking it on myself. I realised I could put it to rights, and enjoy myself doing it. Make a new life for myself, as well. Anyway,’ she concluded with a shrug, ‘it’s over now, that dream.’
‘Not necessarily,’ Bob said slowly. ‘I think the offer has been withdrawn.’
She looked sharply at him.
‘The board is down, I noticed. Go and see for yourself,’ he suggested.
With some reluctance, she did, and saw it was true. The “Under Offer” sign had reverted to a “For Sale” sign.
‘They go up and down like yo-yo’s,’ Bob said gently. ‘Estate agents, eh?’
She turned and saw he’d followed her outside. ‘How wonderful,’ she said with delight, hardly daring to believe it. ‘How absolutely... Oh!’
She shook her head and reached out to hug him and plant a kiss on his cheek. He hugged her back, laughing. She laughed with him and looked up. Then, surprising her, he kissed her. He kissed her properly. She closed her eyes and responded.
‘Sorry, Kirsty,’ he said, pulling away.
‘Don’t be,’ she said softly, gazing into his eyes and hugging him harder.
Only later did she realise fully what had happened, and begin to wonder what had come over them both. Nothing, she decided. Nothing – yet everything.
The next morning, disappointingly but perhaps predictably, Bob was already gone when Kirsty appeared for breakfast.
‘Disappeared into the gloom,’ Carol said, gazing out of the window. ‘Probably exhausted from all the talking he did last night,’ she added, giving Kirsty a pointed look.
‘Carol! Don’t be so mean. We had our evening meal together. That was all.’
‘If you say so.’ Carol wore a severe look for a moment longer. Then she chuckled and smiled. ‘Actually, I was pleased to see the two of you sitting together. It was good for you both to have a bit of company for a change.’
Kirsty laughed happily. ‘What would I do without you, Carol? You remind me of my mother.’
Carol scowled and departed.
***
All the way home, and long after she got there, there were just two things on Kirsty’s mind. One was Bob, and the confused feelings she had for him now. His kiss lingered in her mind, as did the insight she had been given into his life and circumstances.
Poor man. Losing his family like that. He had a big load to carry. No wonder he needed time and space to himself. No wonder he was sometimes depressed.
Yet he was good company when you got to know him, and she’d really enjoyed their day together. She’d enjoyed their brief moment of intimacy, too.
What on earth had come over them both? She smiled mischievously. It hadn’t been just her either. Bob had something to answer for.
All in all, it was an experience, brief though it had been, that convinced her she had been right to split up with Craig. It was a long time since she had felt thrilled to be in a man’s arms.
What a pity Bob had gone by the time she’d got up in the morning. She wondered why he had. They’d parted on good terms. Nothing had been said the night before, but they had looked at each other and held hands. And it had been understood, certainly by her, that it was the start of something, not the end.
He must have had his work to go to, she decided. Whatever that was. She had to be practical. He stole time away from it but he would have commitments he couldn’t avoid. She shouldn’t read too much into his departure. It didn’t mean he regretted what had happened. Not at all.
She would see him next time she went to Fells. No need to wonder and agonise. She would see him again then. Of that, she was certain.
The other matter on her mind was the very practical question of whether or not to resurrect her bid for the inn. Had the other offer really been withdrawn? Or had the wind blown the “Under Offer” sign away, exposing the original “For Sale” sign underneath? The latter possibility seemed the more likely, now she thought about it. But it was worth enquiring. You never knew.
The question became increasingly pressing as her first day back at work wore on. In the end, she decided there was only one way to find out for sure. There was no point speculating. She really had better ask.
The next morning, during a lull in the life of the office, she rang Fells Inn. To her surprise, Henry answered. Cautiously, she explained her interest and asked what the situation was now. Had the previous offer really been withdrawn?
Henry sounded even more weary and dispirited than usual. ‘Who knows?’ he said. ‘Bob changes his mind from one day to the next.’
‘Bob?’
‘Bob Simpson. That guy who’s always here. You must have seen him?’
‘Yes. I know who Bob is. But what’s he got to do with it?’
‘It was his offer that got withdrawn, wasn’t it?’
Kirsty was shocked. For a moment she didn’t know what to say. Had she misheard? Was Henry joking?
‘Are you serious?’ she asked finally.
‘Of course I am. And I’m sick to death of him, as well as this dump. So make me an offer – please!’
She was so stunned by the surprise news that she took an early lunch break. She sat in a corner of her favourite café and pondered. But she didn’t really know what to think, or to do. That was the truth of it. She was in a state of total confusion. Panic, almost.
So it really was Bob that had made the offer? She had to accept that it was. But why on earth hadn’t he said anything to her?
He’d had plenty of opportunity when they were talking things over. And when I was foolishly revealing my hopes and dreams, she thought bitterly. Not to mention holding him in my arms, and beginning to dream. Oh, what a fool I was! What on earth must he have thought of me?
Well, she might have been stupid but Bob had been pretty sneaky. Not saying anything. She was surprised at that. Shocked even. And disappointed. She’d thought she was getting to know him. She’d thought he was a kind and decent man, and had even begun to harbour faint hopes that their friendship might grow into something more. Wrong – again!
Her mood changed. Bewilderment gave way to anger. What on earth was he playing at? Why hadn’t he told her of his own interest in the inn? Why had he led her to believe he was something he wasn’t?
She could find no answer to those questions. None at all. Just to contemplate them made her feel unutterably depressed. They also took away all her enthusiasm for the inn. She just couldn’t contemplate it any more.
So she dropped it all and tried to get on with her life. It wasn’t as if she had nothing to do. Going to work and being responsible for two houses was more than enough, she told herself. She didn’t need a man and a dilapidated old inn, as well. Besides, what would she do with them if she had them?
She would just forget it all, and get on with the life she had.
Joyce wasn’t so sure. ‘It’s no good stopping in a job you don’t like,’ she said. ‘Life’s too short for that.’
‘I do like it. Whatever gave you the idea I didn’t?’
‘You did,’ Joyce said, laughing.
‘Well...’ Kirsty smiled reluctantly and conceded the point. ‘But I don’t really dislike it. My job is very interesting. Dealing with furniture from all over the world. Sorting out problems. Working with people I like. It’s just that...’
‘You’re fed up with it. You fancy a change – or you did.’
Kirsty laughed. ‘How well you know me, Joyce.’
‘I ought to, by now.’
‘But I’ve got past that point. It was just me feeling a bit unsettled.’
‘Yes?’ Joyce said dubiously.
‘I’m happy again now.’
Joyce just looked at her.
‘Really. I am.’
‘Well, you should know.’
It was true, Kirsty reflected. She should. But she didn’t. Not really.
She was determined to put recent happenings behind her, and was hoping she could, but... Joyce was right. She had fancied a change.
Oh, it was all so difficult!
The inn would have been too big a challenge for her. She wouldn’t have been able to cope with all that, especially on her own. It was time she stopped dreaming and sorted herself out. Lived the life she had, instead of trying to create a new one that in all probability would have been a disaster.
‘You haven’t told me yet,’ Joyce said.
‘What? Told you what?’
‘Why the change of mind, or heart.’
‘Yes, I have. Of course I have.’
Joyce shook her head. ‘You haven’t.’
‘Well, one problem is I’ve got too much to do. Work, two houses...’
‘Sell one,’ Joyce said crisply. ‘You’re never going to live in your mother’s house again, are you? So sell it. You can’t leave it standing empty any longer. Get it on the market. Right now.’
‘Is it the right time of year?’
‘Never mind that. Get it valued and on the market. Do it today!’
Kirsty wasn’t sure. She had intended selling it, of course, but now her enthusiasm for Fells Inn had waned the urgency was gone. She didn’t need to sell it now. She could wait.
‘Just do it, Kirsty,’ Joyce insisted, breaking into her thoughts. ‘Then you can begin to relax.’
Kirsty nodded and smiled. ‘You’re right, I suppose. There’s no point dithering any longer, is there?’
‘None at all.’
They sat in silence for a moment. Then Joyce returned to her theme. ‘You still haven’t told me why you changed your mind.’
‘About what? Fells Inn?’
Joyce nodded.
Kirsty looked at her and grimaced. I have to tell someone sometime, I suppose, she thought with a sigh. Why not Joyce?
‘There’s this man,’ she began.
‘Yes?’ Joyce breathed. ‘I knew it!’
‘Have I told you about Bob?’
‘Tell me about him again,’ Joyce insisted. ‘I can’t have been listening properly.’
‘There’s not much to tell, actually,’ Kirsty said, already feeling slightly ridiculous. ‘I mean, nothing much happened between us. It’s just that...’
‘Something must have happened, Kirsty. It’s not like you to be in such a spin.’
It was easier once she got started. And it didn’t sound so ridiculous either. Joyce was good. She wasn’t judgemental. If anything, she was very supportive.
‘Maybe you should separate the man from the inn?’ Joyce suggested afterwards. ‘Be practical. Forget about Bob. You were interested in the inn before you got to know him, weren’t you? So nothing has changed really.’
Kirsty sighed. ‘You’re right in one way,’ she admitted, ‘but something has changed. How I feel about it has changed.’
‘All because of Bob?’
‘Silly, isn’t it?’ Kirsty said defiantly.
‘I wouldn’t say that. But maybe second thoughts are a good idea. Maybe you’re seeing problems now you didn’t see before.’
Kirsty nodded.
‘Take your time,’ Joyce suggested. ‘Don’t give up right away. But don’t rush into something you’re not sure about either. Think it through a bit more.’
‘I’m a little afraid now it might be too big a challenge for me. I think that’s it.’
‘It will be a challenge. Of course it will. But you’ve got it in you to meet it, Kirsty. I know what you’re like. If you want to do something badly enough, you can do it. I know you can.’
It was nice to hear such reassurance, Kirsty thought. But was it right? Did she really have it in her to deal with everything that would be involved? She wasn’t sure any more. She had thought she was. But now she just didn’t know. She felt so flat.
‘You really like him, don’t you?’ Joyce said softly.
Kirsty looked at her and nodded.
‘I can tell,’ Joyce said with a smile. ‘Well, maybe he’ll get in touch.’
‘Maybe.’
Kirsty supposed it would be good if it happened. But it seemed unlikely. In any case, he had deceived her. How could she ever accept that? He should have said something.
‘He should have told me,’ she said heatedly. ‘Really he should.’
‘I agree,’ Joyce said. ‘He should. But he’s just a man, isn’t he? And we all know what men are like, don’t we?’
‘Yes,’ Kirsty said, nodding. It was the old refrain. ‘We do.’
They smiled ruefully at one another.
‘Well, if we’ve got that one settled,’ Joyce said, snapping into her all-action mode, ‘how about doing some Christmas shopping in the Metrocentre?’
‘It’s August, Joyce.’
‘You can never start too soon. Besides, we’ll miss the crowds if we start now.’
‘And they won’t have run out of anything yet. I know!’ Kirsty began to laugh. ‘Oh, Joyce. You’re so practical. Come on, then. Let’s go.’