The Village Shop for Lonely Hearts Page 2

  He glanced down at Amber who still hadn’t got up.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ he asked, suddenly concerned at her lack of movement. ‘Can you stand?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she told him, standing up next to him with a heavy sigh. ‘Just really, really embarrassed.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said, realising that the shock of the cold water had also cooled his temper. ‘It’ll save me from needing a shower later on.’

  She bent down to pick up her handbag, which was also in the water. He watched as she examined the contents inside, most of which were probably ruined. However the mobile phone she brought out to check seemed to be still working.

  Then they both waded across the river towards the bank at the same time. Stepping out of the water, he held out a hand to help her out as well.

  Once on the riverbank, she had just thanked him when the front door of the shop was flung open and he heard his mum shout out. ‘Amber? Is that you?’

  ‘Hi, Cathy,’ said Amber, as his mum strode up to them.

  Despite the possibility of getting her own clothes damp, his mum enveloped Amber into one of her bear hugs. ‘Hello, darling,’ she said, eventually stepping back. ‘Your mum sent me a text to say that you’d landed safely this morning. What on earth happened to you both?’ she asked, looking them both up and down. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘We’re fine,’ Josh told her. ‘We took a tumble into the river, so we’re just a little soggy around the edges.’

  ‘It’s all my fault,’ said Amber, a blush spreading across her cheeks. ‘I’m so clumsy.’

  ‘You’re telling me,’ said Josh, trying to make light of it.

  But Cathy gave her son a stern glance. It was hardly surprising given that he’d stormed out only a few minutes ago after their latest row. It was about the shop, of course. It was always about the shop these days.

  ‘Well, I remember you breaking your wrist on our trampoline all those years ago, but I’d have thought you might have grown out of it. Goodness, you must be freezing. Let’s get you sorted before you catch a cold.’ His mum wrapped her arm around Amber and led her towards the front door of the shop. ‘Come inside, both of you, and warm up.’

  Josh followed them across the lane and towards Cranbridge Stores. As always since he had returned two years previously, the sight of the dilapidated shop made him sad. It should never have got to this stage and yet here they were, stuck in an endless cycle of misery with no way out.

  He went up the couple of squeaky wooden steps onto the veranda in front of the shop. At one time, his dad had sat there on a rocking chair and played his guitar almost every summer’s evening. But that seemed a very long time ago and now the veranda lay empty.

  As his mum pushed open the shop door, he heard the ring of the rusty bell that had hung above the door for as long as he could remember. He had always thought that it was supposed to herald the many customers that would come and go. But it was a rare sound. Customers were very infrequent these days.

  He glanced up Riverside Lane but, as usual, there was no one around, let alone anyone keen to shop in Cranbridge Stores. And who could blame them, he thought as they stepped over the threshold and into the shop. On a damp and dismal autumnal morning, it seemed to look even worse than usual. The strip lighting that was thirty years out of date was harsh in its glare, highlighting the full-to-bursting shop. Every area, every shelf and almost every aisle was filled with boxes and goods. There was no organisation to it all, just everything crammed in, making the aisles narrow and not easy to manoeuvre around.

  As Amber proved by immediately knocking over a tower of biscuit boxes that had been squeezed into the ever-decreasing space.

  ‘Sorry,’ she muttered, glancing around wide-eyed, clearly in shock at the state of the place.

  Josh knew how she felt. And that Amber’s look was exactly the same as any potential customers wore when they popped in. And why they never returned.

  ‘I told you those biscuits would be in the way,’ his mum called out over her shoulder.

  Josh rolled his eyes as he rebuilt the stack once more. The biscuits had been on special offer at the cash and carry shop. They were cheap and plentiful. But it appeared that the handful of customers that they received each day weren’t in need of family-sized boxes of biscuits. They just wanted some milk and a newspaper. If they could find the fridge, that was. It was hidden behind a stack of cleaning goods.

  No wonder there was hardly any money, he thought as they continued past the old till at the back of the shop and through to the stockroom beyond. What profit could be made from such a mess?

  He supposed that buying the biscuits had only contributed to the problem of the overstocked shop but he was pretty much resigned to the state of the place nowadays.

  His mum headed across the stockroom to where there was a small kitchen in the far corner.

  ‘I’ve got a towel in here somewhere,’ she said, searching around near the sink.

  The stockroom was fairly large as it ran the entire width at the back of the shop. Two-thirds of the area though was filled with yet more unsold stock. The last third, next to the kitchen area, was taken up with a small ride-on tractor.

  As always, seeing the tractor reminded him of his father. Even now, he could see his dad tinkering with it, bending over the bonnet, trying to get the engine going. His dad had used the back room as his garage to build the thing from scratch, but it had never worked.

  Both Josh and his younger brother, Pete, had spent their teenage years watching and waiting for the grand day that his dad had promised when the tractor would run and they could take a ride on it out on the lanes of Cranbridge. But that day had never come and now that his dad was no longer with them, it never would. But the tractor remained. Nobody could bear to part with it and the precious memories it held.

  ‘Here you are,’ said his mum, handing a small towel to Amber. ‘Mind you, you could probably use a change of clothes. You must be freezing. Are your suitcases still outside? Josh, go and fetch them, would you?’

  Josh went to turn when Amber said, ‘I haven’t got any.’

  ‘You haven’t?’ said his mum, looking astonished.

  ‘Travelling light?’ drawled Josh.

  She shook her head, blushing. ‘Lost by the airline,’ she finally told them. ‘They’ve sent them to the wrong destination.’

  ‘Oh! How awful!’ his mum replied, horrified. ‘Such a pain! But not to worry, I’ve got something that you can borrow for now. Let’s head upstairs and we’ll get you warm and dry again.’ His mum looked at Amber for a second and broke into a smile. ‘It’s been too long since I saw you. You know, you look just like your mum did at your age.’

  Amber smiled. ‘Thanks. She sends her love.’

  ‘I do miss her,’ said his mum, still smiling. ‘Come on upstairs. Let’s have a proper catch-up. I want to hear all the gossip about your fabulous life in New York!’

  Josh watched them head up the narrow staircase at the side of the shop to the large flat upstairs. It had been such a long time since he had seen his mum so animated, thought Josh. Had she smiled like that since she had finished her cancer treatment? Maybe when the results had come through that the chemotherapy had worked and that the breast cancer was gone. Although, as always, the spectre of the next check-up scan was just around the corner.

  And before that? Well, they had all been deep in grief.

  There had been so much to sort out after his father had passed away unexpectedly. Thankfully, his brother, Pete, had been around then to help out. But eager to make his fortune, Pete had moved to Singapore and remained there ever since, working the financial markets.

  Pete had told them that he hadn’t wanted to leave them behind, but Josh and his mum had insisted that he gave his new life a go. Pete was only younger by two years, but he had always been the baby of the family and treated as such. At least he was living his dream, thought Josh. Pete certainly seemed happy whenever Josh spoke to him, which was pre
tty infrequent these days.

  Life was always so busy that the two brothers hardly spoke. They had always been such a close-knit family in the early days. So much at one point that Pete had tried to persuade Josh to go out there and join him. Josh had even been a tiny bit tempted to go. But then their mum had been diagnosed with breast cancer.

  Josh couldn’t leave when she was so ill. Somebody had to take responsibility and he was the elder brother. So he had put his successful career as a sustainability consultant in the European business sector on hold and had left London to stay in Cranbridge these past two years.

  And he hadn’t been happy for a single day since then.

  Not that it had been easy for his mum either, he knew. The treatment had certainly taken the strength from her. Not that she ever really complained.

  He headed upstairs to the flat, whereupon he heard his mum and Amber chatting in the smallest bedroom.

  He sighed as he went into his own bedroom to change out of his wet clothes. He shouldn’t have argued with his mum earlier. As always, he felt so guilty when they disagreed. But she just couldn’t get past the loss of his dad. Nothing could be changed in the shop. It all had to stay just like it was. Just like it had always been.

  And yet, everything had changed. Pete had left. His mum had been ill. Only Josh remained the same, stuck in Cranbridge and wondering when his life was going to start again.

  He had just flung open his wardrobe doors to pull out some drier clothes when he noticed the set of mechanic tools at the bottom. Would the tractor ever get working? He had tried so hard to fix the engine, but it felt like yet another failure.

  In that moment, he felt the loss of his dad so much he had to blink back the tears. But his dad was gone and it was highly likely that soon the shop would be as well. Cranbridge Stores was on the brink of bankruptcy. He just didn’t have the courage to break the news to his family yet.

  3

  Amber headed up the stairs to the flat above the shop, all the time trying to listen to Cathy chat excitedly in front of her.

  But Amber could hardly take it all in, thanks to her inner mortification. She had fallen in the river and, worse still, taken Josh with her! She had never been exactly dainty, but this was a terrible start to her stay.

  More than ever, she just wanted this visit over with so that she could run away from her embarrassment. Hopefully she would be booking her onward flight for the following weekend and could escape her total and utter shame.

  This was why things never worked out for her, she reminded herself. Because she was clumsy and stupid. Just like those teenage girls at school had told her over and over all those years ago.

  She shivered, her wet clothes clinging to her as she followed Cathy across the cosy and homely-feeling living area. It had large oak beams which went all the way into the high apex of the roof. A pile of books and records were on top of an oak dresser. The kitchen cupboards along one wall were also made from oak and in the corner were a couple of comfortable-looking sofas and an upright armchair which was occupied by a tiny old lady.

  ‘Mother! Amber’s here!’ said Cathy, as they went across the creaky floorboards.

  ‘Welcome!’ said the elderly lady, smiling briefly before her face dropped in dismay as she looked Amber up and down. ‘Is it raining again?’

  ‘They fell in the river!’ Cathy told her, laughing. ‘Amber and our Josh. Can you imagine?’

  ‘How extraordinary,’ said the lady, slowly getting up to walk over to Amber. ‘That’s a welcome you’ll never forget! You won’t remember me, I’m sure. I’m Clotilde, my dear, but everyone calls me Grandma Tilly.’

  ‘Hello,’ said Amber, smiling down at her.

  Grandma Tilly was only four feet tall, but it was a round and friendly face with surprisingly blue eyes amongst the wrinkles that looked up at her. Amber guessed that Grandma Tilly was in her late seventies.

  Amber had a sudden memory of Tilly giving her an extra slice of birthday cake at a party when she had been hiding in a corner, as usual.

  ‘I haven’t seen you for many years,’ said Tilly, still smiling fondly up at her. ‘Always had your head in a book, if I remember. You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?’

  Amber blushed, unused to receiving compliments.

  ‘Isn’t she lovely?’ said Cathy, putting her arm around Amber and giving her a squeeze. ‘Now, you must get changed before you freeze to death. Follow me. I’m sure I have something that will fit you, although you’re a lot slimmer than I am these days.’

  They headed out of the kitchen-diner area and into a short corridor from which led two doors on either side.

  ‘That’ll be your bedroom,’ said Cathy, pointing at the door on the left. ‘But this is me.’

  Amber followed Cathy into the first bedroom, which appeared to be the largest. It had a double bed and a couple of wardrobes, as well as an old dressing table. The window looked out over the side street.

  ‘Let’s have a look at what will fit you,’ said Cathy, flinging open a wardrobe door.

  Amber was touched by Cathy’s kindness, but it really was adding insult to injury that she didn’t have her own clothes whilst her suitcases were lost in transit.

  ‘Here you go,’ said Cathy, holding out a pair of black leggings and a blue jumper. ‘I think this colour would be nice on you. I’ve got some shoes you can borrow as well as your trainers are soaking wet. Gosh, I can’t tell you how lovely it is to have a bit of female companionship around here.’ She glanced at the open bedroom door. ‘My mother has moved into a smashing little bungalow just down the lane this past summer,’ she added, in a whisper. ‘The stairs were getting a bit much for her on a daily basis, considering she’s seventy-seven now.’

  Amber watched as Cathy brought out a large bath towel from a nearby drawer.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, as she took the clothes and towel from her. ‘You’re looking well,’ she added, tentatively.

  Cathy’s attractive face was more lined than Amber remembered. But of course, the years that had passed had been pretty stressful. Her hair was still worn wavy to her shoulders but strands of grey mingled amongst the auburn.

  Cathy’s smile faded slightly before being fixed back into place. ‘Thank you, sweetheart,’ she said in an overly bright voice. ‘Six months in remission and counting!’

  ‘That’s great,’ Amber told her. ‘Mum was so worried when you were ill.’

  ‘We spoke almost every day when I was having treatment,’ said Cathy, sitting down on the bed. ‘And of course she visited when she could. Before they emigrated, of course. I do miss her. I mean, Josh is great, but you don’t want to tell your own son about all your aches and pains all the time.’

  ‘Where’s Pete living these days?’ asked Amber, trying to remember.

  ‘Singapore,’ said Cathy in a wistful tone. ‘He’s got a beautiful flat apparently.’

  ‘Have you been out to visit him?’

  Cathy’s smile faded slightly. ‘Chance would be a fine thing. Anyway, there’s so much to do here, with the shop and everything.’ She hesitated. ‘Now that it’s just us.’

  Amber nodded. She knew that Cathy had been widowed only a few years previously. Along with the cancer, it had obviously been an incredibly tough time. But none of that had prepared her for the sheer chaos and mess of the shop downstairs. It was all a stark contrast to the glamour and organisation of a huge department store like Saks Fifth Avenue.

  Cathy appeared to pull herself together. ‘Anyway, I’ll let you get out of those wet clothes. The bathroom’s just across the hall. You’re welcome to have a shower. I’m sure you must be desperate after the long flight. Help yourself to my shower gel and whatever you need. Take your time. Come and find us in the kitchen when you’re changed. We’ll get the kettle on.’

  Amber took the clothes and towel into the bathroom, which had a Victorian bath with an overhead shower. Like the rest of the flat, it was both homely and stylish, with its tiny seaside motifs on the tiles an
d pictures.

  She was grateful to peel off her wet clothes and enjoyed the hot shower, which brought warmth back to her cold skin.

  Afterwards, she slipped on the leggings that Cathy had given her. They were a bit short, but she supposed people would assume that they were cropped. The jumper fitted her a bit better and at least it went down to her thighs. Despite the style being a little old on her, she was grateful for the leggings and jumper, which made her feel a bit warmer.

  She left the wet clothes drying on the towel rail in the bathroom and headed back down the short hallway, following the sound of Cathy and Grandma Tilly chatting.

  ‘There you are,’ said Grandma Tilly, beaming up at her from the table where they were both sitting. ‘Tea or coffee?’

  ‘Coffee please,’ Amber told her.

  ‘Sit yourself down,’ said Cathy, who had leapt up. ‘I’ll make it. Are you hungry? Would you like a sandwich?’

  Amber shook her head as she sat down. ‘I had breakfast on the plane, thanks.’

  ‘At least have a biscuit,’ said Grandma Tilly, pushing the plate across to her.

  ‘Thanks.’ Amber reached out and chose a biscuit coated in thick chocolate.

  ‘Doesn’t she look like Denise when she was Amber’s age?’ Cathy’s question was directed at Grandma Tilly, who nodded.

  ‘Oh yes. Spitting image of her, apart from the blonde hair.’

  ‘Well, Denise did try peroxide once, don’t you remember?’ Cathy smiled in memory. ‘Had to cut most of her hair off after that as it was snapping off. In a right state, she was.’

  ‘My mum?’ Amber was stunned. ‘With bleached hair?’ She had only known her mum with her naturally coloured brown hair.

  Cathy placed a mug of coffee in front of Amber. ‘It looked ghastly! But you’ve got your father’s colouring, so the blonde suits you, thank goodness.’

  ‘You’ll be sleeping in my old bedroom,’ said Grandma Tilly. ‘It’s got the best view as it’s at the front.’