She hesitated for a moment; technically, she was Gabe’s boss – shouldn’t she stay near at hand to offer moral support? But then there was a flurry of frenzied scrabbling inside the cupboard and Bucky’s growls grew fiercer and Sam decided that Gabe was more than capable of managing the problem. She fled to the bar.
A few minutes passed before Gabe joined her, a still-wary Bucky at his heels. ‘The cupboard is locked and I’ve plugged up any gaps with some hessian sacks. I can’t really do more than that until the morning.’
Sam eyed the solid kitchen door with some trepidation. ‘Do you think it might come in here?’
Gabe frowned as he considered the question. ‘I think it’s unlikely. But we don’t actually know how it got into the building in the first place. Perhaps there’s a nest somewhere we don’t know about—’ He saw her expression. ‘Or maybe he’s working alone and just found a way into the kitchen tonight. We’ll have to call in a pest specialist to know for sure.’
The implications were not lost on Sam. She swallowed a groan. ‘Are we going to have to close down until that happens?’
‘The kitchens, yes,’ Gabe replied without hesitation. ‘Everything will need to be cleaned, preventative measures have to be taken and any entry points must be closed so that this doesn’t happen again.’
She glanced around the now brightly lit bar, her worst fears confirmed. ‘And the pub itself?’
‘It depends what the experts say,’ Gabe answered, and stifled a yawn. ‘We should be able to get an emergency visit in the morning.’
His yawn was catching; Sam covered her mouth in embarrassment as she gave in to the sudden wave of tiredness. ‘We should go to bed.’
He gave her a knowing look. ‘Will you be able to sleep?’
‘Of course,’ she replied indignantly. ‘I’m not scared. Besides, I’ll have Bucky to defend me.’
Gabe studied her for a moment, and for a few wild seconds she wondered whether he was going to offer to share a bed again. But then he nodded. ‘He’ll probably sleep better in your room. We’ll close the door at the foot of the stairs too, in case he decides to go on rat patrol again.’
Sam dropped a hand to stroke the dog’s silky ears and he wagged his tail in response. ‘Come on, then,’ she told him. ‘Let’s try and get some rest, shall we?’
Back on the landing, Gabe stopped outside her bedroom door. ‘There’s really nothing to worry about.’
‘I know,’ Sam said. She pulled a wry face. ‘See you in a few hours.’
He smiled. ‘Yes. Sleep well.’
It was quite ridiculous, but Sam had to admit she felt happier knowing Bucky was lying on the floor beside her bed. Not as happy as she would have been with Gabe next to her, but at least this way was less complicated. And given the tumult of feelings that coursed through her whenever she spent time with Gabe these days, complication was probably something she needed to work harder to avoid.
*
Keith from Simply the Pest puffed out a long breath and scratched his head in obvious bewilderment. ‘What you’ve got here,’ he said, flicking on a torch to peer underneath the stainless-steel units that lined the kitchen walls, ‘is a genuine locked-room mystery.’
Sam and Nessie exchanged uncertain looks, while Gabe looked equally puzzled. ‘In what way?’ Sam asked, politely hiding her scepticism.
Keith got to his feet and tracked back to the storage cupboard, now conspicuously empty of its nocturnal visitor. ‘I’ve been doing this job for twenty years, so I know what I’m talking about,’ he said. ‘And I can’t for the life of me work out how it got in. There’re no gnawed floorboards. No damage to any of the walls that I can see. It’s a mystery, right enough.’
‘Could . . . could it have used the back door?’ Sam asked, hoping she didn’t sound as stupid as she felt. ‘If it was left open, I mean?’
‘Unlikely,’ Keith said. ‘With all due respect, this isn’t Disney. Rats don’t generally saunter in like they own the place. And there’s no droppings, or urine, other than in the cupboard where your intruder spent the night. No sign of an infestation at all.’
Nessie cleared her throat. ‘That’s good news, at least. So what happens now?’
Keith shrugged. ‘I’ll check the rest of the premises. Then we can talk about preventative measures and you can make a start on disinfecting the place.’
Sam’s nose wrinkled; she didn’t want to think about what preventative measures meant. ‘Can you recommend a good industrial cleaning company?’
‘I can,’ Keith said. ‘Don’t you worry – we’ll have this sorted and get you open again within twenty-four hours. Now, who’s going to give me the tour?’
‘Follow me,’ Gabe said, before either Sam or Nessie could reply, and he led the man out of the kitchen.
‘What a nightmare,’ Nessie said, glancing into the cupboard with a shudder. ‘I’m sorry you had to deal with it on your own.’
‘I wasn’t on my own,’ Sam pointed out. ‘Gabe pretty much took care of everything. The worst part was imagining it creeping up the stairs, but I was far too tired to worry about that for more than ten seconds.’
Nessie managed a weak smile. ‘I suppose we should be glad it wasn’t on Friday – we’d have lost all the weekend trade.’
‘Or nearer to the weekend coming,’ Sam replied. ‘We’d have had to cancel the cider festival.’
‘It doesn’t bear thinking about,’ Nessie said grimly. ‘I think we got lucky.’
Sam thought back to the sound of tiny claws scuttling across the tiled floor and shuddered. ‘I’ll tell you what was lucky – having Bucky here. I think he’s more than earned his place on the team – even Laurie can’t argue.’
Nessie let out a heartfelt sigh. ‘If only that was true. I’m starting to think he’d argue the sky was green if he thought there was something in it for him.’
Sam eyed her sister in surprise; Nessie had always been the one who’d suggested they cut Laurie some slack and give him a chance. Could her patience finally be running out?
‘Not this time,’ Sam said firmly. ‘Bucky stays, just in case our visitor has some friends after all.’
‘Of course he’s staying,’ Nessie responded with a smile. ‘I just hope he doesn’t demand a pay rise!’
Chapter Five
The closure of the pub while they dealt with the rat issue caused no end of speculation among the villagers. In the past, Nessie would simply have confided the truth to Franny and relied on her to spread the news in a way that would limit any damage to their reputation, but that was sadly no longer an option; the new postmistress was pleasant and well- organised, but she wasn’t Chairwoman of the Little Monkham Preservation Society, and her sphere of influence didn’t extend much past how much a first-class parcel to London might cost. All of which meant Nessie had to field curious questions from every villager she encountered on Monday afternoon and Tuesday morning.
‘Just some emergency maintenance,’ she said, ensuring her crossed fingers were hidden from sight. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll be up and running in good time for the cider festival!’
Joss was due to arrive on Wednesday to take over Connor’s duties. Nessie and Sam had already agreed that they wouldn’t hide the rat encounter from him; apart from anything else, he needed to know that there were now humane traps down in the cellar, along with less-humane poison, safely tucked out of harm’s way in the kitchen. Both sisters had argued hard with Gabe about the need for such cruel methods, but he had been insistent that the health of his customers must come first. And when he’d put it like that, Nessie had found it almost impossible to stand her ground.
*
‘Rats?’ Joss said when Nessie called him into the office to explain the situation. His fair eyebrows beetled in astonishment. ‘I’ve never known this place to have trouble with any kind of rodent before. Has your fancy new chef been leaving food out?’
His tone was level, but Nessie thought she detected the faintest hint of something altoge
ther less professional underneath. She shouldn’t be surprised; Joss had always been unnecessarily jealous where Sam was concerned and he’d clearly worked out that a good- looking chef living on the premises might catch her eye. Nessie paused, wondering whether it was something she needed to address right away, and then decided it could wait. It wasn’t as though Sam and Joss were in any danger of rekindling their relationship, after all. She was having his baby, nothing more.
‘Rat singular,’ Nessie corrected Joss in a low voice. ‘And no sign of any more, thankfully.’
Joss frowned. ‘Just one? That’s weird.’
‘That’s what the pest control man said,’ Nessie said. ‘But maybe we just caught things early. Anyway, we’re all clear for now – I just thought you should be aware.’
‘Noted,’ Joss said, nodding. ‘Anything else I need to know?’
Nessie hesitated again, then sighed. ‘I should probably tell you that Laurie isn’t exactly over the moon that you’re here. Just in case you pick up any . . . hostility.’
Joss grinned. ‘Let me guess – he thinks he can run the cellar while Connor is away.’
‘Got it in one,’ Nessie confirmed. ‘And I think it’s something he could definitely do, in the future. But not right now. And not when we’ve got ten independent cider makers arriving on Friday, plus a gaggle of apple aficionados, and who knows what else?’
‘Don’t worry,’ Joss said, ‘I’ll go easy on Laurie.’
‘Great,’ Nessie said, observing once again that he hadn’t extended a similar professional courtesy to Gabe. ‘Let me show you to the living room – a brand new sofa bed awaits!’
If Sam had noticed the tension in Joss’s body language where Gabe was concerned, she didn’t say anything to Nessie. In fact, she was being resolutely positive about his presence, even though Nessie knew it must be weird to be living right next door to him again. Gabe, on the other hand, had definitely noticed something was off with Joss – he’d mentioned it to Nessie once, after Franny’s funeral, and had never asked about the former cellarman again, although he was as professional and polite as always. It was something else that kept Nessie awake at night but as long as Joss could keep his jealousy under control for as long as it took to get the job done, maybe disaster could be avoided. She hoped, anyway.
*
Friday was the summer solstice – a day Nessie wasn’t sure she’d ever really paid much attention to before she’d fallen for a blacksmith. Both the solstices were important to Owen; he made sure she had a yule log to mark the winter festival and he’d marked the summer one on the family calendar in red. So Nessie wasn’t surprised when he leaned over to her side of the bed on Friday morning to kiss her and declare, ‘Happy Solstice.’
‘And to you,’ she replied, smiling. ‘May the sun shine all day.’
His dark eyes crinkled with approval. ‘I certainly hope so. I’ve got something special lined up for us.’
Nessie’s pleasure was replaced by an instant buzz of anxiety. ‘I can’t do anything today, Owen. The cider festival starts this afternoon – there are a million and one jobs to be done.’
‘Nothing that can’t wait,’ he said, his voice even but firm. ‘I’ve spoken to Sam and she says she can spare you for a few hours at lunchtime. No arguments – meet me by the back door at midday.’
Nessie swallowed the protests that were jostling on her tongue; what on earth was Sam playing at when they were so busy? But it wasn’t the first time her sister had conspired to get her together with Owen and Nessie knew when she’d been outmanoeuvred. ‘Okay. Two hours and no more.’
The morning whirled by in a flurry of last-minute panic and worries as the cider festival started to take shape. The village green was taken over by a large marquee that would house the cider makers and form the hub of the festival. In the evenings, the space in the centre of the huge white tent would become a dance floor, playing host to a number of local bands, plus Owen’s sister’s band, Sonic Folk, as the headline act on Saturday night. Micky Holiday had even promised to perform with Kathryn and Nessie knew she was beyond excited at the prospect.
‘You and half the village,’ Nessie had told her when she’d rung to confirm the band would be arriving midway through Saturday. ‘Martha has had T-shirts printed for her and Ruby that say “Sonic Flames”. I think she’s imagining a worldwide tour!’
Joss had slipped into his old role with the minimum of fuss and the consummate skill of someone who was at the top of their game, much to Nessie’s relief. She watched him liaise with the cider makers in the marquee, ensuring they had everything they needed and double-checking their pumps were primed and ready to supply the hordes of thirsty visitors set to descend on Little Monkham. What would they have done without him, she wondered, trying not to imagine the chaos that Laurie might have caused. In the kitchen, Gabe had finally taken delivery of ingredients for the special Sausage Fest menu he’d planned to go across the weekend; Nessie spent even more hours awake the night before wondering whether she’d somehow managed to get that order wrong too. It had been a relief when it turned up, all present and correct, just before she left to meet Owen at midday.
She knew what he had planned the moment she saw him, picnic hamper in hand and a tartan rug tucked under his arm. ‘Let me take that,’ she said, reaching for the hamper, but he swung it out of her reach.
‘You’re in charge of the drinks,’ he said, tilting his head towards another bag on the ground beside the back door of Snowdrop Cottage. ‘Try not to shake it up too much.’
Champagne, Nessie thought, when she saw the foiled bottle top poking out of the bag and a little shiver of delight ran through her. ‘I’ll do my best,’ she said gravely. ‘Where are we going?’
‘You’ll see,’ Owen said. ‘Ready?’
The sun was hot and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky; the Met Office had been as good as their word with the predicted heatwave. Nessie fanned her face as Owen led her alongside the village green, past Martha’s bakery and St Mary’s Church, and across the bridge that spanned the river. She knew where they were going long before he turned off into the blissfully cool woods; how long had it been since they’d last done this – it must be well over a year, surely, and maybe even two?
‘I wonder if we’ll see Squirrel Nutkin again,’ she said, as the green canopy over their heads rustled and shimmered in the slight breeze. ‘Do you remember?’
He glanced at her then and the warmth of his gaze caused her cheeks to heat up. ‘I remember.’
It had been their first date, Nessie thought, although it hadn’t felt like one at the time. Sam and Kathryn had manipulated Owen into taking her for a walk in the woods; the two matchmakers had even packed a surprise picnic, in the hope that it might encourage romance to bloom. And Owen had kissed her for the first time then too, before being overcome with guilt about his dead wife, Eliza. They were taking the same route today, Nessie realised with a jolt. Surely Owen didn’t mean to have their picnic by the same waterfall as before?
‘I’m sure you recognise the path,’ Owen said, glancing at her as though reading her mind. ‘But so much has changed since the last time we were here. I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable.’
She opened her mouth to reassure him, but the right words didn’t come. ‘A bit,’ she said, and instantly wished she could take it back. ‘What I mean is, I know this was a special place for you and Eliza. I don’t want to intrude on your memories, that’s all.’
Owen was quiet for a moment. ‘I’ve thought about the time you and I came here quite a lot lately,’ he said eventually, his lilting voice solemn. ‘And I don’t think I was very fair to you, Nessie. In fact, I often wish I had a time machine so I could go back and do it all differently.’
Nessie held her breath, waiting for him to go on, but he fell silent as they turned the corner and the crystal-clear waterfall came into view, exactly as she remembered. There’d been a carpet of bluebells then; she could still see flashes of colour here and there,
but it was later in the year than it had been before. The scene was no less beautiful, however, and she took a moment to savour it.
‘This way,’ Owen said and guided her across the rocks to the exact spot he’d laid the picnic blanket last time.
Nessie tried to squash her anxiety. She didn’t dare speak as they unpacked, sensing that Owen had more to say. But it wasn’t until he’d popped the cork on the champagne and handed her a brimming glass of golden buttery bubbles that he seemed ready to continue.
‘I used to think Eliza was here,’ he said, gazing at the babbling water that tumbled across the slick grey stones. ‘And maybe she was, for a while. But she wasn’t here the day we had our first picnic and . . . well, I’m not proud to admit that I used her memory as an excuse. I knew I’d fallen in love with you, but I was too scared to acknowledge it. So I let myself believe it was too soon to meet someone else. And I treated you badly.’
His forehead was heavy with lines that Nessie longed to smooth away. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, feeling her own anxiety lessen as she understood at last. ‘None of that matters now.’
‘Except that it does,’ Owen insisted. ‘I’ll never forget Eliza – how could I when I see her every time I look at Luke? But I think it’s time I stopped hiding behind her.’
Nessie’s eyes misted up as she studied him. ‘I would never expect you to forget her, Owen. And I’ll always be grateful to her for Luke – he’s such a wonderful boy and I am so very honoured to be part of his life.’
Owen managed a wavering smile. ‘Thank you. I know he loves you too, in the same way that her loved Eliza.’ He paused and took a deep breath. ‘But I also think it’s time to let the past go, once and for all.’
Placing his glass on a nearby rock, he reached in his pocket. Nessie felt a stab of mingled unreality and shock as she saw the small, emerald-green velvet box nestled in his palm.
‘I love you, Nessie Chapman,’ he said, lifting the lid to reveal a sparkling emerald and diamond ring. ‘Will you marry me?’
Last Words at the Star and Sixpence Page 4
