Thomas was a plumber and Theresa managed a women’s clothing store. Both lived in Christchurch and hardly ever came to see their gran. It was par for the course with Ruth. If poor Mary mentioned Ryan was doing well then Ruth jumped in with how Tom had just had a promotion at work. Likewise, if Isla was making a name for herself in the world of interior design then Theresa had just been told by her boss that her eye for knowing the latest fashion trend was uncanny. Honestly there was singing one’s children’s praises and then there was being plain obnoxious about it.
All the same they were her grandchildren and she loved them. After all, they couldn’t help their mother’s behaviour. She shook the thoughts away, eyeing Isla suspiciously. She’d hardly touched her food.
‘No thank you Ruth,’ Bridget managed to reply civilly. ‘I’ve had plenty to eat. Well done, Mary that was a lovely meal and dessert. Sara Lee, eat your hat out.’ The roast chicken had been dry and stringy and thank the lord for dental floss, but she’d had worse.
Mary and Isla got the private joke and laughed. ‘Actually Gran, it’s eat your heart out,’ Isla corrected her.
‘That’s what I said.’
‘Um, I’ve got an announcement to make,’ Isla said deciding it was best to move things along. She tapped her glass with her spoon wanting to say her piece before anybody got up to leave the table, her cheeks flushed pink with building excitement. Everybody turned their attention to her. ‘And you can take that bloody look off your faces I’m not pregnant! I’ve bought the Kea Tearooms.’
Aunty Ruth and Uncle Jack left not long after Isla announced her news. The atmosphere had gotten very strained. Aunty Ruth didn’t help matters either when she slurred that Theresa was looking into buying her own clothes shop. Isla was surprised that Bridget didn’t tell her to put a cork in it. Jack sensing his mother was close to losing her rag with his wife quickly got up from the table and made his excuses that they must be on their way. Ruth, who was onto her fourth glass of wine, not that anybody was counting, didn’t take the hint until her husband took her by the arm and hauled her to her feet. Mary just sat there at the table still laden with the lunchtime detritus, with a hurt expression on her face. From time to time she’d shake her head like a bewildered sheep. ‘Did you not to think to mention it Isla? I am your mother,’ she said, not really expecting a reply.
Joe’s face was puce as he muttered on about Isla throwing good money after bad. Bridget was the only one at the table who seemed pleased with the news. She gave Isla’s hand a supportive squeeze under the table. ‘Well, I for one think its great news that Isla’s home and she’s putting down roots,’ she said receiving a withering look from her daughter.
‘A house would have been a more sensible idea,’ Joe said.
Isla felt her blood beginning to boil and she bit back the retort on the tip of her tongue. Common sense prevailed. She knew they needed a bit of space to get used to the fact she was soon to be in the food business, and if she didn’t leave right now she might say something she’d regret later. She got up from her chair being careful not to scrape it back over the shiny floor and elicit more angst from her mother. ‘I’m sorry, maybe I should have spoken to you both first before I went ahead and signed the contract but your reaction is exactly why I didn’t. I’m going to go for a walk and let you get your heads around it.’
‘Good idea, Isla dear, off you go,’ Bridget said. ‘I’ll make a start on the clearing up.’
The air outside had an autumnal bite, and the ground was wet thanks to the rain shower that had been and gone while they’d eaten lunch. The leaves were red and gold, piling their pretty colours into the gutter and Isla fancied the air actually smelt like green would if it had a scent. It was the scent of the bush and it was a smell she’d missed. She inhaled deeply and felt herself calm down. Her mum and dad would come round to her way of thinking, especially once she proved she could make a success of the business.
She was striding along, arms-swinging, lost in her plans for the Kea one minute and the next she’d crashed down on the pavement in a heap. Her foot, thanks to her choice of impractical ballet flats had slipped out from under her on the slick asphalt.
‘Isla!’
It took her a beat to comprehend her name was being called and to register that there was a truck idling in the road. Ben was leaning out the open window his face creased in concern. ‘Hey, are you okay?’
‘I’m fine.’ She lied still on her knees.
‘Hang on a sec.’
He pulled over and got out of his wagon. Striding over to her, he held his hand out. She put her hand in his. It was warm and dry and she could feel his strength as he helped her to her feet.
‘You’ve ripped your jeans and you’re bleeding.’
She glanced down. So she was, but it was nothing a spot of Dettol and a band-aid wouldn’t fix. The jeans were her favourite pair, though, that was a bummer.
‘Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.’
‘No, it’s okay, really. I’m alright now.’
She didn’t want to be alone with him in his truck, not after what happened at the Pit.
‘You can’t walk home like that, that knee’s gotta hurt. How would I explain leaving you in this state to your gran, she’d string me up?’
She raised a smile at that. ‘Oh, alright then, thanks. I hope I’m not holding you up or anything.’ Now the shock of slipping over was wearing off, she was beginning to feel embarrassed at the spectacle she’d made.
‘Nope it’s all good. You heading home?’ He held the passenger door open for her and she clambered in carefully.
‘Mum and Dad’s please.’
Ben nodded and got in. He turned the radio down, flashing her an apologetic smile before indicating right and driving off. ‘Hey, uh, about what happened the other night, Isla I—’
Isla did not want to go there, not now. ‘You don’t have to say anything Ben, it was one of those silly drunken mistakes. I’ve forgotten about it already and you don’t have to worry about me saying anything to Saralee either, okay?’
‘That’s not what I was going to say.’ He slapped the steering wheel. ‘Man, you are hard work sometimes Isla, do you know that?’
Isla was taken aback and felt tears spring to her eyes. Everybody was annoyed with her and her knee was beginning to sting. ‘Yes, actually I do know. You’re the third person to tell me that in not so many words this afternoon.’
He looked at her and seeing her face, loosened his grip on the steering wheel. ‘Why, what’ve you been up to?’
‘I told Mum and Dad that I’ve bought the Kea off Noeline at lunch today, and it went down like a lead balloon. They’re annoyed because I didn’t talk to them about my plans first but I’m thirty years old for goodness’ sake and I’ve been making decisions on my own for a long time. Ben, watch it, you nearly took out the Four Square sign!’
‘Shit, sorry. What did you say?’
Isla filled him in. ‘I said I’ve bought the Kea. Gran was on my side. Hopefully she’ll have talked them round a bit and they’re over their snit,’ she said as he pulled into her parents’ driveway behind Delilah. ‘It just kind of took the shine off it all though. Hey, thanks for the ride. I’ll see you around.’ She climbed down from the wagon.
‘Sure, look after that knee.’ Before she closed the door, he spoke again. ‘And Isla, I for one think its great news.
Chapter 20
By the time the keys to the Kea were officially handed over late on a Friday afternoon with the first hint of winter nipping at its’ heels, Isla had her parents on side. She’d swayed her dad around to the idea of his daughter being the owner of the town’s tearoom by asking whether he would consider providing her with seasonal produce to use in the daily menu. She’d promise to pay him a fair price for it. His chest had puffed up, and he’d stuck his fingers in the loops of the waistband of his jeans before swaggering home to plant out another row of leeks. As for Mary, well she’d been easy. The offer of a free cake on Fr
idays had done the trick. Her only request was that it please be Black Forest.
Now, Isla sat in the empty tearoom with the keys to her new kingdom on the table in front of her. She’d already put a sign in the window proclaiming the business to be under new ownership and apologizing for the inconvenience of it being closed for renovations. She’d placed an advert in the Bibury Times which would run in the next edition advising the same thing too. It would help quell the small town stories going around as to what was happening with the Kea. Gran told her that when she’d popped into the Four Square, Ellie, the girl whose pants always looked like they needed to be surgically removed, had asked her if it was true. Was Isla planning on opening a wine bar? Then there was Ted from the butcher’s who’d asked if it was going to be a TAB and Frances from the craft shop who’d heard it was going to be an artisan cheese shop. The change of ownership seemed to have given locals the opportunity to lend voice to their dream retail outlet.
A truck thundered down the road, and Isla felt the floor tremble slightly as she looked at the surrounds she now owned. She’d bought the plant as well as the building, and her dad was going to store what she wasn’t keeping in his garage while she listed the surplus plant for sale on Trade Me. She didn’t expect much for the furnishings but whatever she got would go towards the new coffee machine she’d already ordered online.
Annie had been elated at the news and kept going on about how she could officially call herself a barista once it arrived. Isla didn’t like to point out that there were courses one had to attend before graduating as a qualified master of coffee making, there was plenty of time for that. In the meantime, so long as she got the hang of how to work the thing everyone would be happy. The kitchen would stay as it was, it was functional and passed all council requirements. It was the dining area that was to be her project and once she got the furnishings out it would be a blank canvas with which to work with.
For a second she felt overwhelmed at the prospect of what lay ahead. Oh, the design part of the tearoom was easy, it was her forte after all. No, it was the practical stuff that would be hard. The project managing of the actual building work, never mind the finishing touches. She might be an interior decorator, but she’d never actually wielded a paint brush and didn’t plan on starting now. She’d have to ask around for advice regarding tradespeople.
The realization that whether or not this new business venture succeeded was down to her began to sink in. To quell the building panic, Isla rummaged in her bag until she found her book of affirmations. She flicked through its pages looking for words that felt appropriate until her eyes settled on, I am in charge of my own happiness and responsible for filling my own needs. Exhaling slowly, Isla began repeating the phrase aloud, closing her eyes as she did so.
She was on her fourth repetition when the door to the tearoom burst open, and Annie appeared with an enormous smile and a bouquet of flowers. Carl brought up the rear waving a bottle of wine in each hand, followed by Bridget, Mary, and Joe.
‘You didn’t think we’d let you celebrate the fact that you’re now officially a woman of independent means on your own did you?’ Carl beamed. ‘Now where will I find a corkscrew?’
The next morning, Isla was glad she hadn’t overindulged as she began the task of clearing up. The empty bottles of wine and the greasy fish and chip papers were leftovers from last night’s impromptu celebration. It had been such a lovely surprise, though. She’d been touched that Carl too, had made the journey from Christchurch. It was a shame David was away on business, but it had provided Carl with the perfect excuse to come and join in the celebration. She smiled. Gran had been especially chuffed to see him, behaving like a dowager duchess as he fussed around her.
Isla had risen early this morning, eager to get over to the tearoom, or café as she’d announced to everyone it was going to be referred to from now on, during last night’s party. She’d wanted to roll up her sleeves and get to work. Her dad would be calling by in half an hour or so with his trailer to pick up the tables and chairs and any other bits and bobs she’d decided to sell. Annie, Carl, and Kris had headed home last night with promises of popping by to give her a hand too. If she’d thought that she’d be embarking on her new venture alone, then she’d been wrong. That was why when she heard the knock on the door and not her father’s tell-tale General Lee horn she assumed it was the three of them reporting for duty, and flung the door open. ‘How’re the heads troops – oh! Hi, it’s Callum, isn’t it?
He nodded and smiled.
Isla stared at him wondering what he was doing here. ‘I’m not open yet, sorry.’ She pointed to the sign.
‘I know, but a little bird told me you might need a hand moving some stuff out today.’ He was dressed in a sweatshirt that had seen better days, a pair of jeans with holes in the knees, and sneakers. It was a complete contrast to the smooth looking man in a suit she’d met when he’d come into the café with Saralee.
Isla frowned. She knew who the little bird, or rather birdies, were. She’d put money on Annie having been in Kris’ ear getting him to play cupid in the staffroom at Bibury Area School.
‘Don’t look so dubious, I might be in the teaching profession, but I can assure you I’m a man of many skills, and I’m here at your service,’ he said winking.
Isla thought once again how cute he was and hoped her nostrils weren’t flaring as she tried to pinpoint the name of his aftershave. She was sure it was Davidoff, Cool Water – one of her favourites. ‘Well, I can’t turn down an offer like that, now can I? I was just about to have a coffee before I get stuck in,’ she replied lying through her teeth. ‘Would you like one?’
‘I wouldn’t say no.’ He closed the door behind them.
He was easy to talk to, Isla thought, sipping her hot drink; and he’d asked her about herself first too, not launched straight into a ‘me, me, me’ monologue. He’d scored brownie points for that. Plus he had gorgeous eyes. They were an unusual hazel colour and contrasted strikingly with his dark hair. He knew a bit of her backstory now so it was only fair he shared his. ‘Where are you from originally?’
‘I’m a born and bred Christchurch boy.’
‘My old playground. How’re you settling into life in Bibury?’
‘It’s a great little town.’
She raised an eyebrow over the rim of her mug.
‘What? It is. The kids are awesome. They’re different to city kids.’
‘Really?’
‘Oh yeah definitely, they’re not in such a rush to grow up in the country. But I’ll admit it’s been kind of hard to get to know people. I suppose it’d be different if I were married and had kids. That would open doors but hey,’ he said shrugging. ‘It is what it is.’
‘Do you live by yourself?’
‘No, I share a house near the school with Jeremy Cramer who’s the high school PE teacher. It works pretty well, but socially he’s more into planning his next marathon than getting out on the town. Most weekends I head back to Christchurch and stay with friends.’
‘Ooh, I see. You’re a party boy then?’
‘I’ll admit to having a “stuck at home on a Saturday night with nothing to do” phobia. What about you, what do you do for fun in these here parts?’
She smiled at the Southern drawl he’d affected. ‘Well, I go to the Pit occasionally.’
This time it was Callum who raised an eyebrow.
‘I know it sounds sad, but a pub is a pub. It’s the company you’re there with that counts. You should come down and see for yourself.’
‘If that’s an invitation to join you and your friends at the salubrious Pit the next time you decide to go, then I’d love to take you up on it.’
Isla grasped that he was flirting with her. She was so rusty she hoped she didn’t squeak, but two could play at that game. ‘Deputy Packer, you would be more than welcome to join us at said salubrious drinking establishment, the Pit tonight. That’s if you haven’t already made plans?’
‘Not
hing I can’t change.’
Isla smiled shyly across the table at him. They would have held each other’s gaze in silent, pleased acknowledgment of just having made a date had the Dixie tune not gate-crashed the moment.
‘Come on, I’ll introduce you to my dad.’
Callum helped carry the tables outside with Joe, lifting them onto the back of the trailer, while Isla stacked the chairs and carried the boxes over to them to load up. Isla was grateful the weather although cold was clear.
‘That’s it for this run,’ Joe said closing the back of the trailer a short while later.
‘Do you want a hand unloading it at the other end, Joe?’
‘No thanks, you carry on here. My mate’s around home doing some engine work on the Harley for me; he’ll help.’ Joe kissed Isla on the cheek before climbing behind the wheel. ‘Back soon love.’
Isla could have kicked him as he winked and said far too loudly, ‘Don’t blow this one aye?’
He sounded the horn again as he drove off and she cringed. ‘I wish his mate would disable that bloody thing. Oh, look!’ With her dad’s Toyota no longer blocking her view she saw a tiny black kitten sitting in the middle of the road. At the same time, she registered Ben’s tow truck travelling towards it. She waited for a beat, but he wasn’t slowing, and instinctively she stepped out into the road as Callum hollered at her to watch out. Isla was oblivious as she swooped down and scooped the kitten up. There was the smell of burning rubber and the sound of screeching brakes, but the kitten purred in her arms, not in the least bit phased by the unfolding drama.
‘What’re you doing, you madwoman?’ A familiar, furious voice yelled.
Isla went over to the open window of the tow truck. ‘I was worried you might hit this wee fellow.’ She showed him the little black bundle in her arms.
Sweet Home Summer Page 16
