Time to Move On (13 page)

‘I’ve put a couple of potatoes to bake, they’ll be ready in a while, if you’re hungry,’ Seranne said.

As the minutes passed and Seranne discussed the daily routine, Babs still stood, fully dressed for outdoors. Their antagonism eased a little, although they were both uncomfortably aware that trust was no longer there.

‘I don’t know why I came in. There’s something about this house, it’s impossible to be angry for long. I intended to blast off at you then walk off in a huff,’ Babs admitted.

‘Perhaps you ought to stay a while longer then.’

‘No, thank you. I won’t stay and pretend you’re forgiven!’ Babs walked to the door abruptly.

‘D’you think we could work together?’ Seranne asked as Babs stepped onto the path.

‘We can try.’ She didn’t sound very sure and Seranne was left with the conviction that she would soon be without a job. The only thing she could do was continue the same as when Mrs Rogers was there; arrive early and start on the cooking, and hope things would smooth over.

In the Ship and Compass Betty watched as Alun prepared some bread dough. He had bought yeast at the bakery and was making them as an experiment to see if the customers preferred home baked bread rolls. Cheese and pickle or luncheon meat with mysterious origins were the only choices for filling but with a darts match being played that evening she was sure they would be appreciated. Specially with the last jar of her pickled onions.

They worked so well together that she tried not to think about him leaving and starting his own restaurant once his money had been released by the solicitor. Since her brother Ed had left, she’d had to manage with assistants who showed little interest and rarely stayed more than a month or two. With Alun it was different. The days flew past and she was happier than she had ever been before. Every morning she watched the post arrive, afraid it would include the letter which would delight Alun and fill her with dread.

She was taking sandwiches to the bar at lunchtime when Seranne came
in. It was her first day working for Babs and she didn’t look happy. She was carrying a packet of paper serviettes and a drum of table salt. ‘Sorry, I know you’re busy, but I need to talk to you. Can I come in for a chat later?’

‘I’ll just take these out to the bar and we can have a cup of tea. Alun will manage for ten minutes. Will that do?’

‘Thanks, Betty.’

‘You didn’t get the job, then. How d’you feel about working with Babs Hopkins as your boss?’

‘Not good. We started badly,’ she said, and explained about her
accusations
and the overheated oven. ‘This morning I was in early and started on the cooking as usual, but when she came in she told me that was no longer my job. Instead of sharing the work as Mrs Rogers and I did, seeing what needed doing and getting on with it, I’m clearing tables, cleaning and taking money but nothing else. It’s such a waste of my
experience
. I’m here now because I’ve been sent out to buy salt, as she insists that what we have is too coarse for the tables.’

‘Give it a week. She’s probably very anxious, it’s the first time she’s worked away from the family business, even if it is just across the road. You can remember how scary that can be. She’s afraid that you are so used to doing things your way she won’t be able to act the big boss.’

‘It’s hard, Betty. I’ve been in the business all my life.’

‘She might be getting revenge too. If she didn’t tamper with the oven she must have been hurt by you thinking she could act so unkindly.’

‘If she didn’t do it, who did? But you’re right, I’ll just have to give it time.’

‘A week together and you’ll remember why you’re friends. Why don’t you invite her to come here tonight? There’s a big darts match on and she’d enjoy watching her brother and father playing for the retailers taking on Colin and Bob and the allotment holders.’

‘I could make some scones if you like. I don’t want to forget how it’s done.’

When she mentioned it, Babs said she might and although neither of them were keen to spend time together, Babs eventually agreed to go.

‘Please yourself!’ Seranne retorted. She had no intention of wearing sack cloth and ashes for ever. ‘I’ve promised to go early and help Betty, so I won’t call for you.’

‘I’ll be going with Mam and Dad and Tony anyway.’

The first person Seranne saw on walking into the Ship with her tray of scones was Luke. She pretended not to see him and went straight through
to the back room, where Betty was piling plates with bread rolls and pasties. Seranne ladled the pickled onions into dishes and put them on a tray to be taken through.

‘I won’t put the food out until they have a break, about nine o’clock,’ Betty told her.

‘I’ll come and help, shall I?’

‘Don’t avoid her, it won’t get better without a bit of effort.’

‘Now what have you done?’ Luke asked from the doorway. Seranne glared and was about to accuse him of eavesdropping when he added, ‘The scones in the café weren’t as good today, did you forget the oven again?’

‘Shhh,’ Betty warned, pointing towards the bar from where laughter and chatter filled the air. ‘Seranne didn’t make them! They were from the bakery.’

‘She made these though,’ Alun said pointing to the tray. ‘And very good they are.’

Braving the risk of another argument, Seranne went into the bar when the first rounds were being played. Babs was there but they hardly spoke. When Luke exaggerated the quality of the scones in her hearing Babs left. Her heart racing with the conviction that she would be unable to work at the café any longer, Seranne made her excuses and left soon after.

As she went to bed it wasn’t the prospect of unemployment that held back sleep, but the state of Jessica’s Victorian Tea Rooms. The very name was now a joke. Was that what the future was going to be, a café with basic appeal and economy being the priority? The thought saddened her as she remembered how her mother had worked to make the tea rooms a pleasant place to be. The ticking of the clock seemed extra loud and she soon found herself becoming emersed in the rhythm. The night outside stretched her imagination and made a picture in her mind of the animals that would be awake and searching for food. She remembered the badgers crossing her path, and wondered where they would be.

Useless to stay in bed, she got up and found her dressing gown. Better to accept her wakefulness for a while instead of fidgeting and trying to force sleep to come. The house was never quiet. The old fabric creaked and sighed and the wind whispered around its walls. She sat and was comforted by the sounds that were like a lulluby so late at night, and allowed her thoughts to wander.

She knew she could do nothing about her mother’s business, it was just that: her mother’s business. Jessie and Paul wanted a different life from the one she had known and she had to accept that. For herself, she knew
that working with Babs Hopkins was no longer possible and she would have to find another way of earning her keep. But what could she do? If she told Babs she was leaving, that would give her a week to find
something
new. It wouldn’t be enough. All she had ever done was run a café and there was only one in Cwm Derw, which was no longer a possibility. Perhaps she should stay and forget she and Babs had once been friends, at least until she found another job. But that was cowardly. It would be dishonest too, to pretend all was well, then let Babs down, even if she had ruined her chance of getting the manager’s position.

‘Confidence’, a voice seemed to whisper and she took a deep breath, knowing that her first move had to be to tell Babs she would no longer work for her. Then she would just hope something would turn up – something to allow her to stay in Cwm Derw and live in Badgers Brook.

She went back to bed, calmed by at least one decision having been made and slept wonderfully well. It was still dark when she awoke but she was rested and unable to stay in bed. Instead she rose and sorted out some of her household chores, the cold not affecting her, the house was never uncomfortably chilled, even in the darkest winter days.

She still had a key for the café and she left early without planning how she would spend the time. Leaving the café in darkness, she looked at the ingredients placed ready for the day’s food. Should she start on the
sandwiches
? It was half an hour before Babs was likely to arrive. Will she be annoyed?’ she asked herself. Do I care if she is? Why had she come so early?

She went to the small store cupboard outside and saw to her surprise that the bread had not been delivered. Tony always brought it before eight and it was now half past. She didn’t want to go to the bakery so she satisfied herself by boiling eggs, grating cheese and slicing some sad-
looking
tomatoes. At nine she sat there wondering why Babs hadn’t arrived. At ten past, a boy in white overalls knocked on the door with the loaves and he was followed by another carrying a wooden tray of assorted cakes.

‘Where’s Babs?’ she demanded and was told that Babs wouldn’t be in until at least eleven, as Tony had fallen and she was needed to do his work.

‘Why wasn’t I told? I do work here you know!’

The boys looked at each other saying nothing.

‘Fine!’ she said. ‘Tell her from me that I’m going for my lunch at twelve no matter what happens. And you can also tell her I’m leaving at the end of next week. Right?’ She looked around expecting to see Luke watching. He was usually there when she did something stupid, and
shouting at the young boys was as stupid as it gets. She opened the café door and called after them, ‘Sorry, boys. I know it isn’t anything to do with you.’

One of them waved in acknowledgement, the other waggled the empty tray. ‘Why didn’t she tell me before?’ she muttered as she opened the loaves and began making the sandwiches. She was glad she had at least begun the preparations. The scones and cakes were covered with muslin and the tall cake stands were ready to receive them and at 9.30, exactly on time she prepared her smile and opened the door.

It was difficult but she coped with the morning rush and was warming the plates ready for the early lunches when Babs arrived. She looked around at the neat tables and the clean orderly kitchen and said a cursory ‘Thank you’, to which Seranne didn’t reply.

Forgetting what she had told the boys about an early lunch the two of them set to and served the lunches. Hardly a word passed between them and when they managed to eat a sandwich at about two o’clock, Babs said. ‘Look, Seranne—’

Hot-headed as usual, Seranne said, ‘No,
you
look. I can’t work for you. I’m handing in my notice and will be leaving at the end of next week.’

‘Oh. That’s a pity. I didn’t touch the oven that day but if you don’t believe me, then perhaps it’s best you go.’

‘I’ll take my break now, shall I?’

‘Better than that, I’ll pay you for this week and next and you can finish altogether.’

‘But how will you manage, if Tony is unable to work?’

‘That isn’t your problem, is it? I was made manageress and I’ll do that, manage! That’s something you can’t accept.’

Without a word, Seranne took the wages and left. She was barely
holding
back tears as she walked back to Badgers Brook, ignoring the bus again, needing to hide her stupid face from everyone. Luke was right about her temper being a joke. It was such a pity that she couldn’t see it herself, until it was too late.

It was strange to wake the following morning with no need to get up the moment the alarm shrilled in her ear. Seranne’s first reaction was to reach for her dressing gown and get up but then realization came and she sank back onto the pillow. Instead of thinking ahead to the first routine tasks of the day in the café, she was faced with the unpleasant thought of
looking
for another job.

She walked up the lane and caught a bus to the main road and tried not to look across at the café, where a weak light struggled through steamed windows. It was not yet half past nine and a few prospective customers stood outside, leaning forward occasionally to peer through in the hope of the door being opened. She saw movement inside and
curiously
she stopped to look. A huge notice was displayed:
STAFF WANTED
. Regret filled her and she hurried on.

Perhaps she should go home? Her mother’s tea rooms was certainly in need of her expertise. No, that wasn’t the answer, she could no longer go home. It wasn’t false pride that stopped her, or the embarrassment of knowing she had failed, but the realization that she had moved on. She no longer belonged.

As though she had picked up on her thoughts, when she telephoned her mother a few minutes later, Jessie said, ‘I love seeing you, you know that, but next time will you let us know when you’re coming? Paul and I were so disappointed to be out last time. Let us know then we’ll be sure to be in.’

‘That sounds very formal, Mum. Whose idea is that, yours or Paul’s?’

‘Well it was Paul who suggested I mention it. We go out quite often you see. We’d be so sorry if we missed you.’

‘It’s still my home, Mum.’

‘And always will be, but now, with Paul in my life, the days are so full. It’s really wonderful. I’m so happy, darling, I really am. So just tell us and
we’ll make sure you get a real welcome.’

Seranne put down the phone with the uneasy feeling that all was not well. Nothing specific, just a slight strain in her mother’s voice she hadn’t been aware of before. She was trying so hard to convince me, she mused, but the effect was the opposite. She was so distracted with concern for her mother when she went to the employment exchange that she found nothing that appealed among the vacancies.

At two o’clock she went for a walk. She was too miserable to enjoy it as she usually did, her solitary state no longer enough. She felt cut off from her mother and very lonely. Signs of approaching spring went
unnoticed
. Birds pairing up after spending the winter in flocks, fresh green leaves like tiny spears appearing on the sunny banks. Bright sunshine that fell dappled by the still bare trees onto the woodland floor. Nothing succeeded in lightening her mood.

The following day, when she spoke to Stella in the post office, Stella offered Scamp, her little terrier, as a companion for her walks and she accepted with a few misgivings. She had never owned a dog and wasn’t sure how he would behave.

On the first day he seemed to assert himself as leader and instead of walking through the lane toward the wood, he pulled her in the opposite direction. From the doorway of the shop Stella called. ‘He’s off to our country cottage. Don’t worry, he knows the way.’ Being towed along by the excited dog, Seranne had no choice but to follow. Country cottage? What on earth was Stella talking about?

Scamp led her to the allotments, where plots of land were neatly set out and dug ready for planting, each with its small shed. One shed door was open and it was to there she was taken.

‘Hello,’ Colin said. ‘Scamp’s brought you to see me, has he? Want a cup of tea?’ He patted the little dog then turned to fiddle with a paraffin stove and a kettle. ‘Stella always makes sure there’s the makings of tea. Her country cottage she calls it.’

The shed wasn’t like any other she had known. Inside there was a square of carpet, devoid of mud and grass as though regularly swept. The window was dressed with pretty curtains. Shelves held vases of artificial flowers.

‘This is amazing,’ she said as she watched Colin open a tin from which he took cups and saucers and plates. A second container revealed biscuits and another a few small cakes. Chairs were unfolded and she sat and admired the gardens and sipped the tea Colin had made, enjoying the unexpected interlude.

She tried to coax Scamp to take a long route back to the post office but as before, he told her where he wanted to go and that was back home, where he jumped into his favourite armchair and slept.

During the next few days she called at the employment exchange several times and in between, she and Scamp explored the woods and surrounding fields. Several times she thought she had lost him as he disappeared chasing a rabbit or a bird, but he returned to her without trouble.

They were at the edge of the wood on their way home one day when she saw Luke. He was walking and seemed in no hurry. She didn’t want to talk to him. Knowing he had a wife made it impossible to feel at ease with him. She would have been glancing around afraid of the wife appearing and attacking her in a jealous rage. She darted back through the trees and found her way blocked by an area of muddy water with a plank across it. As though she could already hear the angry shouts of Luke’s wife she hopped on to the wood which immediately sank, her foot disappearing in glutinous mud. She shouted her dismay and heard
footsteps
approaching. Not the wife but Luke himself. Angry with herself, and with him for putting her in the situation, she presented a look of such fury that Luke laughed out loud.

‘Oh, go away. Can’t you see this isn’t funny?’ Which only made him laugh even louder. He offered a hand to help her out of the gooey mess but she refused and, struggling to free herself, put her second foot in the water. ‘See what you’ve done now!’

‘What
I’ve
done?’

‘Yes, you, creeping up on me like that!’ She knew she was talking rubbish but couldn’t help herself.

‘Come on, take my hand and I’ll help you out.’

Reluctantly she did as he said and he helped her back to the road followed by an equally muddy dog.

‘The car is around the corner,’ he said as they reached the lane. ‘But I think you’ll both have to ride in the boot, don’t you?’

‘I can walk, thank you,’ she said rebelliously.

They reached the car and Luke bent down to take off her shoes and socks before helping her into the car.

‘My feet are cold,’ she protested ungraciously.

Luke removed his scarf and wrapped it around her feet. Scamp jumped onto the driving seat from where he was hastily removed. Not before he had spread foul-smelling mud all over it. This was when Seranne began to laugh. Aware that her laughter was unkind when Luke was helping, she
tried to stop but couldn’t. Scamp barked, enjoying what he considered a game while Luke covered the seat with an old coat from the boot.

He drove her back to Badgers Brook, followed her in after tying a protesting Scamp to a tree at the doorway and put a match to the fire. ‘Go up and clean yourself,’ he said. ‘I’ll make us a drink.’ Too cold and uncomfortable to argue, Seranne did as she was told, leaving Luke
opening
and closing cupboards as he searched for the things he needed.

‘Why aren’t you at work?’ he asked when they sat drinking the cocoa he had made and Scamp was ensconced on his ruined coat in the kitchen. ‘You haven’t left the café, have you?’

‘Yes. I couldn’t work with Babs.’

‘I see. You were upset because you didn’t get the manager’s job and went off in a sulk?’

‘No, I didn’t! Babs cheated to get the job and I can’t consider her a friend any longer.’

He persuaded her to explain, then said, ‘She says she didn’t touch the oven?’

‘She must have done. There was no one else. I didn’t make a mistake.’

‘Heaven forbid!’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘Little Miss Perfect, so experienced, no one else can come near your expertise, can they?’

‘I’ve been running a café alongside my mother all my life.’

‘A mischievous child might have gone in. Or you could have caught the control with your coat. You shouldn’t jump to conclusions – about anything,’ he added looking at her strangely.

She wondered what he meant. He couldn’t be referring to his wife. A man was either married or not and according to Kitty, he was.

‘I’d better get Scamp back to Stella or she’ll think we’re lost.’ He offered to drive her but she refused. ‘He’d be happy to walk,’ she said. Then seeing how dark it was, and how low the clouds were, she wished she had accepted. She added an extra jumper and some thick socks to what she was wearing, and two scarves, one around her neck the other, wide and thick, she wrapped around her head making her look like a colourful Egyptian mummy.

When she went out after stacking the cups and plates, the car was waiting. ‘I thought you might have changed your mind,’ Luke said amiably. She uncurled one of the scarves and got in. ‘You are inclined to speak before you think,’ he added, then he pressed the accelerator before she could jump back out, laughing at her angry expression.

She stayed and helped Stella to bath the dog then caught the bus to the top of the lane. She was aware how foolish she must appear to Luke. Always angry about something. She had never been as even tempered as she would have liked but he brought out the worst in her. She vaguely wondered why. It wasn’t an attraction. As a married man he was strictly out of bounds. Any brief dreams about a romance had been swiftly put aside. So why was he so kind to her? Was he really the same to everyone he met? From the little she had learnt about him, he ran several
businesses
and was on the board of several others, so he was obviously not desperate for friendship. She wished she dare ask Kitty for more details about the man but didn’t want to be misunderstood. He was married and that was definitely that!

She had several visitors that evening. First came Connie and Geoff, who called each week for their rent and stayed for tea and biscuits. Next came Kitty and Bob, who asked if they could borrow a couple of chairs as they had visitors the following day. The third knock puzzled her. It was quite late and she wasn’t expecting anyone.

It was Tony and she glanced behind to see whether he had brought his sister. For a moment her heart leapt at the possibility she was going to be asked to return to the café, but he was alone.

Offered tea and a seat, he said, ‘Babs is struggling you know, and it’s all my fault.’

‘How can you say that? She ruined the scones in a petty attempt to make me look inefficient and—’

‘I turned the heat up.’

‘You? But why, Tony? Come on, aren’t you covering up for your sister?’

‘I wanted to spoil your chances because my parents and I want to buy a larger premises, bring in modern machinery and expand the business. Babs refuses to consider it. I thought that if I got her out of the way, Dad and I could get on with it. I wrote a wonderful letter recommending her for the job, my father gave her the finest reference. Then, seeing the scones that morning I couldn’t resist the temptation to mess things up for you. I altered the regulo – I wanted her to get the job. But now, well, I don’t think she’ll last long. She doesn’t know enough about running the business side of things. Making cakes in a modern bakery is different from selling them and making a profit.’

She stared at him. ‘You haven’t said sorry yet, Tony.’

‘I am. In fact I want to make a proper apology. Will you come out with me tomorrow night? Pictures maybe and supper somewhere?’

‘There’s no need for that, but you must put things right with Babs.’

‘I’d like to anyway. We’ve known each other a long time but we’ve spent very little time together. It would be good to talk to each other without my sister there. What d’you say?’

‘All right, Tony. Only if I can choose the film, mind.’

After he’d gone she felt a glow of contentment. She hadn’t lost her temper or told him what she thought of him for ruining her chances with Mr Griffiths. Luke would be proud of me, she thought happily.

As for their trip to the pictures, they hadn’t made a definite date and she could let it drag out until he lost interest. Tony and she had little in common, or they would have become friends long ago. She lit her candle and went up to bed.

She saw Luke the following morning as she stepped off the bus near the post office and told him about Tony’s visit.

‘What are you going to do?’ he asked, gesturing towards the café.

She shrugged. ‘What can I do?’

‘You could apply to the staff wanted notice.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous! I couldn’t do that!’

‘Too proud, are we?’

‘Of course not. But….’ How could she explain that knowing she had been wrong about Babs just made things worse? Apologizing then working with her, Luke was probably right, her pride wouldn’t allow it. What was she doing worrying about what Luke thought of her? He was hovering on the periphery of her life, complaining about her temper, accusing her of jumping to conclusions without thinking things through, making her feel bad about things and causing her to mistrust her own feelings. He had no right to criticize. Calming down she wondered if perhaps Tony would help put things right. After all it was his fault the argument happened.

‘Why don’t we meet and talk about it, that often helps and you can hardly discuss how to apologize to someone with the person involved.’ He saw her hesitate and added, ‘Saturday evening? We could find a quiet place to eat, and talk for a little while then I’ll drive you home.’

That seemed a reasonable suggestion and she had to admit it appealed. She did need someone to talk to and, now she and her mother were no longer such close friends, apart from Kitty and Bob she had no one in her life to fill that category. Keep it casual and there was no harm, she convinced herself.

Her mind began to play with ideas about him as she went to the employment exchange for another attempt to find work. Perhaps Kitty hadn’t realized that his marriage had ended in divorce? A divorced man?
Was that an attractive idea? It was hardly a pleasing prospect. Trying to convince herself she didn’t care, she decided that whatever had happened, he had been a failure.