Time to Move On (19 page)

‘We’ve decided to close for our half day on Wednesdays. It’s the day a lot of the local people go into Maes Hir for the market. Shall I come and tell you how we’re getting on?’

‘That would be lovely. Bring Babs and we can have a girly gossip.’

‘We won’t be able to stay long, there’ll be plenty to do to keep it up to the standards you taught me, Mum.’

‘Just don’t work too hard. You must find time for some fun, Paul has taught me that.’

Seranne and Babs were at the café very early the next morning to start making the cakes and scones for which they hoped to build a reputation. When they opened the door at 9.30 a queue had formed and the tables were immediately filled. For the next three hours they didn’t stop. Between serving the tables, one or the other went into the kitchen to make sandwiches and fresh batches of scones. They had seriously
underestimated
their success.

The atmosphere was subdued though and Seranne and Babs wondered how they could liven the place, encourage their customers to talk rather than whisper. The stilted atmosphere, the lack of laughter, was not what they had hoped for. Seranne knew some of the dampened mood was due to her. Even though many of the customers were known to her, she was unable to respond to their greetings and good wishes. Her face was set like concrete as the strain and anxiety of making this day a success pressed down on her spirits. This was clearly affecting the clientele, who remained stifled so the chink of cup against saucer was cautiously avoided. People came and went with only the soft murmur of voices. It was very worrying. She had persuaded Babs to invest her money in this place and if she had judged it wrongly, had set up a high-class tea rooms in a place where it wasn’t wanted, she would ruin her friend as well as herself. The thought dragged on her all morning.

At 12.30, most of the ‘coffee brigade’, as Babs called them, were gone. Toasted snacks were in demand and they realized they would soon run out of milk. This was made worse by discovering that one of their remaining bottles was sour.

‘Really!’ An outraged Seranne glared at the offending item as though it could speak for itself. ‘That dairy should be more careful. They must have muddled up today’s milk with yesterday’s! Can you manage while I go and fetch some, Babs? It’s a disgrace and I’ll tell them so!’

Laughter was heard and she looked up to see the smiling face of Luke.

‘It isn’t funny!’ she said, which only made him laugh louder.

‘Tell me what you need and I’ll go and find it. Milk, I presume, and is there anything else you need?’

‘Luke!’ Babs said with relief. ‘Thank goodness. We need milk
desperately
and a few more loaves of sliced bread, too. And pasties if Tony has any left.’

Luke nodded, grinned again at the still scowling Seranne and
disappeared
.

Betty called in and, seeing they were dangerously low in cups, saucers and plates due to having no time to wash them, sent two young boys across each carrying a box of her china for them to use until they could add to their own.

‘Thank goodness for Luke’s auntie, we’d have had to close and wash up if it weren’t for the ones he brought,’ Babs sighed, piling more used plates precariously in the small kitchen.

Stella closed the post office for lunch and she came across with her little dog, Scamp, who was pleased to see Seranne and ran in before Stella could stop him. He greeted Seranne with enthusiasm then, as Luke walked in with the bottles of milk and some wrapped loaves and paper bags, Scamp jumped up and helped himself to a pasty from those left on the counter and, darting between Luke’s legs, shot through the doorway at speed.

As usual, the look of outrage on Seranne’s face made Luke laugh and the customers joined in. Seranne knew she ought to throw away the remaining pasties but the customers wouldn’t hear of it and she ended up giving them away, which improved the atmosphere even more and the party-like mood continued through the rest of the day as the story was passed on to newcomers. She heard one lady tell her friend, ‘This place just makes you feel good. I can’t imagine anyone leaving without a smile on their face.’ She turned to Seranne and raised her coffee cup in salute and added, ‘Well done, Seranne and Babs.’

The last of the tension left Seranne, and she relaxed and began to enjoy herself. Luke and a no longer apologetic Stella stayed and had mushrooms on toast – declining the pasties with exclamations of horror, to add to the fun, even though they were newly delivered. It seemed the joke of Scamp’s misbehaviour would go on and on into legend. The little dog had returned to sit under the table enjoying treats from various diners and was reluctant to leave when Stella went to reopen the post office.

Luke left at the same time as Stella but then surprised them by
returning
at five and staying to help clear up after closing. ‘Come to the Ship,’ he coaxed. ‘I know you’re tired and want to discuss your first day, but you needn’t stay long. I bet you’ve hardly eaten a thing and I’ve arranged with Betty for you to have a salad and some new potatoes and some of her home-made cheese.’

It sounded perfect and they followed him like a couple of puppies, running and even skipping in their excitement as they congratulated each other on their wonderful start. Luke put an arm around Seranne as he guided them through Betty’s side door and without a thought of the mysterious Marion, she put an arm around his waist and hugged him close.

Betty had prepared a celebratory spread which they ate with gusto, unaware until then just how hungry they were. When their excitement had cooled they began making lists of things they would need. Apart from the food order, Seranne remembered the tall tiered cake plates her mother had used for customers requesting tea and cakes. She doubted whether they were used by Pat Sewell, who would have considered them too much hard work, with the chrome frames to polish and the
dismantling
required to wash the plates.

She used Betty’s phone and asked her mother if she could borrow them, and she also needed the recipe of Melting Moments – a coconut biscuit that used to be a favourite in Jessica’s Victorian Tea Rooms. Luke watched her face, rosy with excitement as she told her mother about their first day at The Wayfaring Tree. Her eyes were glowing and when their eyes met she wrinkled her nose in a childish way that delighted him.

With Luke helping they did a rough assessment of their day’s finances and were pleased. Even allowing for it being a day for the curious rather than prospective regulars, they had done remarkably well.

‘Once you lightened up and stopped looking like a suspicious
policeman
in a room full of suspected criminals, the atmosphere was
wonderful
,’ Luke said, with a hand on her shoulder to show he was not critical, only aware of how tense she had been.

Seranne smiled and pushed him playfully. ‘I’ve never been so
frightened
in my life. My fears were for Babs more than myself. She trusted me and my idea with her money.’

‘I knew we were going to be all right,’ Babs assured her. ‘We’ll make The Wayfaring Tree
the
place to meet friends and relax.’

Luke agreed. ‘I’m really impressed with what you’ve achieved, and it will only get better.’

She smiled at him, warmed by his praise.

Les Gronow the new barman arrived at the Ship fifteen minutes late full of apologies explaining that he’d forgotten to wind his watch and he’d lost track of time. Not what I was hoping for, Betty thought, dejectedly.

After a few queries he soon found his way around the bar and the customers liked his chatty and friendly manner. By the time they closed she began to feel hopeful that at least he wasn’t completely useless. He was in a hurry to leave and as she finished up after he had gone, she wasn’t fully convinced about his remaining. Perhaps she would leave that notice in Stella’s post office a while longer. Putting away the last of the glasses she daydreamed of Alun walking past, seeing the notice and knocking on the door.

The Ship and Compass was more than the local pub, it was a place used for many local events and the coming celebration for the crowning of Queen Elizabeth II would be one of them. Meetings were held in the bar after hours where plans were made for the street party to which everyone was invited. Everyone was clutching at least one list. Hope had two, one for food and another for decorations including the essential bunting. Hope’s mother-in-law Marjorie Williamson-Murton had a
fistful
, determined to be overall organizer, ignoring challenges from several others.

By doing a rough headcount they worked out what would be needed and people added their names and listed the food they would bring. Hope’s husband Peter Bevan still had a cart which he had once used on a round selling grocery and Jason the horse was enjoying life in a field near by. He offered them both for delivering tables and chairs and also for giving the children rides.

It would be a day the children would remember, everyone was
determined
on that and, because many people had invested in a television for the occasion and would want to watch the ceremony, the party would be four days later, on Saturday, 6 June.

Betty had her own lists and she began to wonder how she would cope with the extra work if Les Gronow didn’t do his share. She glanced at his references and put them back in the drawer, she really should make enquiries, but they would have to wait. This afternoon the men were bringing her television and from what she’d heard, they would keep her busy until opening time. One on the roof turning the aerial and one inside shouting the result shown on the screen.

Jake called one day and asked if she’d heard from Alun. ‘He promised to keep in touch but I haven’t heard from him,’ he said.

Betty shook her head. ‘Not a word. It seems he wanted to shake the dust of Cwm Derw from his shoes.’

‘I think he was sorry to go but felt you were forced by loyalty to have your brother back. That was a shock for Ed, wasn’t it, him not inheriting the guest house?’

‘Ed isn’t back. Loyalty or not, I didn’t want him here.’

‘But Alun told me you more or less asked him to go as your brother needed a home.’

‘No, that was what Alun decided. He obviously didn’t want to stay, and the excuse of making way for Ed came as a relief to him. He was ready to leave, he’d had enough of me and the Ship and the quiet existence of living in Cwm Derw.’

‘I don’t think so. I think you two have had your wires crossed.’

‘No, Jake. He wanted to leave, I’m sure of that.’

‘And you? Were you glad to see him go?’

Betty shook her head sadly. ‘I was beginning to hope he’d stay for ever.’

‘Barmy the pair of you,’ was Jake’s response.

Luke’s travels between his various businesses took him over a wide area and when he was passing close to Jessie’s tea rooms he called there and ordered coffee and a cake. This arrived as a small cup of coffee and a sticky bun, having been offered the choice between a bun or a scone. Having seen both he decided on not the best, but the least worst.

Pat Sewell didn’t recognize him and when he paid and left he walked around a while then went back for the coat he had intentionally left behind. It was now after closing time and he walked in and saw Paul and Pat Sewell in an embrace.

Luke lowered his head and pretended to pick something off the floor then looking away from where they stood, called, ‘Anyone there?’ When he looked again Pat and Paul were standing far apart.

Pat asked, ‘Can I help you? We’re closed you know.’

‘I believe I left my coat here.’ He gestured towards the table he had occupied and she strode forward and picked up the coat.

‘Is Seranne’s mother in?’ he asked. ‘Seranne has asked for a recipe and I could take it for her. Some cake stands too, if you aren’t using them.’

Paul seemed to notice him for the first time and greeted Luke politely. He and Pat shared a glance and Luke suspected they were wondering if he had witnessed their close encounter. ‘I can call again if it isn’t
convenient
,’ he said, smiling reassuringly.

Paul went to the stairs and called up, ‘Jessie, darling, Luke’s here and he’d like a word if you aren’t too busy.’

Jessie appeared, dressed for something special, and greeted him
affectionately
. ‘Luke, how kind of you to call. There’s a letter here for Seranne, will you take it for her?’

‘Certainly. She mentioned she would like to borrow some of your tall cake stands and I thought I could take them for her.’

‘Of course you can. Where are they, Pat?’ she asked.

‘No idea. We stopped using them ages ago, didn’t we Paul?’

Paul shrugged. ‘I think they might have been among the stuff we sold a while back, remember we discarded the teapots and the plates and the ornaments because they made so much work?’

Luke saw a flash of disappointment cross Jessie’s face. She looked along the empty shelves, her eyes registering shock. ‘When were they sold, Paul? I don’t remember that.’ Then, aware of Luke watching her, she smiled and said, ‘Of course, I remember now. Such a pity we didn’t know Seranne was buying her own café, she could have used them.’

The recipe was found and Luke drove back to Cwm Derw with a
feeling
of anger in his heart. What, if anything, should he tell Seranne? He asked about the letter Jessie had mentioned but Paul couldn’t find it. Just as well, it would give him another excuse to call unannounced.

He drove to Badgers Brook and as usual found several visitors there. Betty was just leaving to open up, hoping that the new barman Les would be on time for once. Kitty and Bob were there with Colin, looking at seed catalogues and making plans for the garden and Bob’s allotment. Scamp was asleep near the fire, having chosen a cushion which he had pulled to the floor to rest his head on.

He walked in and handed the recipe to Seranne while Kitty busied herself getting him a cup of tea. ‘I asked about the cake stands,’ he told Seranne, ‘but Paul sold them when he got rid of the teapots and plates.’