A Place of Her Own
Miranda Barnes
© Miranda Barnes 2008
Miranda Barnes has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
First published by D C Thomson in 2008.
This edition published in 2015 by Endeavour Press Ltd.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Extract from A New Beginning by Miranda Barnes
Chapter One
At last! This was it. She was here.
She dipped the headlights and slowed down. Carefully, she drove into the centre of the village. Her heart was pumping wildly. Even at this stage she was afraid she wouldn’t recognise the house.
But nothing had changed. It was as she remembered it from the maps and satellite photographs she had studied so much on the internet, and from the one, brief visit she had made to Cragley. The houses built around the big, open green. The brightly-lit pub on the corner that she had already passed. The U.R.C. church. The little Victorian school. The parish church : St. Aidan’s. The war memorial. The … There it was! She saw the “SOLD” sign, slowed down and stopped with relief. She was here. At last. This really was it.
The car came to a stop. She switched off the lights and the engine, and sat for a moment in the dark, flexing her fingers, rotating her shoulders. It had been a long drive. She wondered how far behind her the furniture van would be. The men driving it would be tired, too, but at least there were two of them. They could have taken turns.
‘About another half-hour,’ one of them said when she rang them on her mobile.
‘Really? You’ve made good time.’
‘Lightning fast,’ the man said without a trace of a chuckle. ‘That’s us.’
She smiled as she switched off the phone. It was the older man, Jim, she had spoken to. She liked him. Quite a comedian.
She opened the door and got out of the car. Then she stood still and stared at the building she had come to take possession of. It was part of an old stone terrace dating from Victorian times. Shop on the ground floor. Two-storied flat upstairs – a maisonette, really. Walled garden at the rear. It was a gamble, but it was time she took one.
Her pulse quickened and she gave a little shiver of delight. This was hers now – all of it!
‘Good evening!’ a man called as he strolled past with his dog.
She replied, trying not to sound as surprised as she felt. She had no idea who he was. Where she’d just come from people didn’t speak to strangers in such a familiar way.
‘Looks like rain,’ he added, letting his dog lead him on.
‘Oh, dear! Rain? I hope not.’
She really did hope not. Not yet. Not tonight. Not until they got the van emptied. She shivered again, this time with apprehension, and walked slowly up to the front door to let herself inside.
She’d worried she wouldn’t be able to remember the house. The village either, for that matter. But she did. The village looked just the same, and as soon as she opened the front door of the house it came back to her. Everything about it. She didn’t bother with the shop. She headed straight upstairs to the flat. Her flat now. Her new home.
It was big. Spacious. Big enough for her, certainly, and with space to spare. She walked quickly from room to room. Checking to see if everything was all right. It seemed to be.
They were big rooms with high ceilings. Three bedrooms. Two reception rooms, as the estate agent liked to call them. Bathroom. Kitchen. That was about it. But enough. More than enough for her. As much, in fact, as most people had in a house.
The whole place needed re-decorating, of course. She’d known that. Otherwise, there wasn’t much wrong with it. Hardly anything at all, in fact. She was delighted.
She was glad all the curtains and carpets had been left behind. They were well-worn and she wouldn’t keep them long, but for now they were better than having bare floorboards and newspapers over the windows. And the central heating system was new. Wonderful! She would get that on as soon as she could. Late August only, and not really cold, but the whole place felt chilly and damp from being empty so long.
She stopped and stood still in the middle of the living room, grinning. She twirled round. It was hers. All hers! Her own place, at last. Exactly what she’d wanted. It was up to her now what she made of it.
‘Hello!’ a voice called up the stairs. ‘Anybody home?’
The men! They’d caught her up.
‘Coming!’ she called back, heading for the stairs.
He was tall. She could see that even as she rattled down the stairs. Tall. Black, curly hair, and lots of it. Pale face. Not a bit like either of the men she had left to pilot the furniture van the length of the country. He was standing in the little vestibule at the foot of the stairs.
‘Oh! Can I help you?’ she asked in some confusion.
‘I certainly hope so. Is that your car out there?’
‘The silver one? Yes. Is anything wrong?’
He shook his head, visibly annoyed. ‘It’s in the way.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t realise. I’ve just arrived, you see. I’m …. I’m moving in.’
‘Moving in?’ He stared suspiciously at her.
‘Yes.’ She stepped forward, edging him back towards the front steps and the pavement. She had no idea who he was, and she didn’t like him standing on the threshold as if he had some sort of right to do so.
‘When?’ the man demanded. ‘I haven’t seen anything being taken inside.’
‘Oh, you will,’ she assured him, gathering confidence. ‘There’s a furniture van going to appear any minute now, with two big, strong men in it.’
He spun round and looked across the green. She sensed an explosion imminent.
‘Do you live round here?’ she asked quickly.
‘Next-door.’
‘Oh?’ That was something of a relief. She’d begun to think assault, mugging, burglary … anything! ‘Well, if we’re neighbours, we should introduce ourselves. I’m Jenny Morrison.’
‘Tom Laidler.’
His hands remained firmly in his pockets. Her own, which had been part-raised, fell back to her side.
‘I’ll move my car if it’s in the way,’ she said. ‘Where would you like me to put it?’
He turned and stepped down the short flight of steps to the pavement. She followed. She looked right and left, unsure what the problem was. There was no queue of traffic. Her car was in front of her own property. There was no-one else in sight.
‘What’s the problem?’ she asked.
‘It doesn’t matter now,’ he snapped. ‘Not if there’s a bloody big van coming any minute!’
‘I don’t understand…?’
‘No. I don’t suppose you do.’ He glared at her and waved an indignant arm. ‘We don’t park out here,’ he snapped. ‘If you park here, no-one can get along the road. We park at the back.’
‘Oh?’ She still couldn’t see the problem. The road seemed wide enough for any am
ount of cars like hers. ‘That’s a local rule, is it? Nobody told me about it.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ He thrust his hands back into his pockets and half-turned again. ‘So you’re moving in?’
‘Tonight, actually – hopefully!’
‘What about the shop? What are you doing with that?’
Maybe that was the problem? Maybe he thought the village would lose it.
‘It’s going to be a craft shop,’ she announced proudly. ‘I’ll soon have it up and running.’
‘A what? A craft shop?’ He stared at her, as if incredulous.
‘Yes.’
He shook his head, looking even more belligerent. ‘That’s all we need,’ he snapped. ‘A bloody craft shop!’
She watched with dismay as he turned and stalked off. Oh dear! she thought unhappily. That didn’t please him.
‘And here’s that van now!’ he yelled with apparent fury before disappearing through a doorway.
She grimaced. Not the very best of starts!
Then she stepped onto the pavement and waved to catch the driver’s attention. For the moment, her unreasonably angry next-door neighbour slipped out of mind.
The removal men were very good. Very helpful. Tired as they must have been, they got straight to work. Everything was offloaded in an hour.
‘You’ve got the rest of your life to sort it out,’ Jim, the older man, pointed out as they stood together staring at the mountain of boxes in the kitchen.
‘Yes?’ she said vaguely.
‘Will that be enough, though?’ Jason, the young one, asked mischievously.
Jenny laughed and rallied. ‘Go away!’ she said. ‘You’re just a young troublemaker.’
‘He is,’ Jim agreed. ‘I keep telling him that.’
‘Me? I’m innocent, me!’
‘Why do I find that hard to believe?’ she said with a chuckle.
They were good men, she thought again. Both of them.
‘You’ve done wonderfully well today,’ she said. ‘Bringing everything all this way. What will you do now, though? Do you want to stay here overnight? I’m sure I can find some bedding in one of these boxes.’
She wasn’t at all sure, but she didn’t want them dozing in the van after the day they had just had.
Jim shook his head. ‘Thanks all the same, but we’re OK. We’re booked into a guest house down the road a little way.’
‘Oh?’
‘The office booked us in.’
You are well organised!’
He nodded. ‘So we’ll leave you to it now, if you don’t mind. Let young Jason here get some beauty sleep.’
‘It’s not me that’s needing beauty sleep,’ Jason pointed out indignantly. ‘Have you looked in the mirror recently, Grandfather?’
‘I take no notice of him,’ Jim said with a wink.
Laughing, Jenny saw them to the door and watched them begin their long journey back down south. She was strangely moved. It was as if the last link with Dartford, Mum and her previous life – her life so far! – was broken. Now she really was on her own in a strange land.
‘Welcome to Cragley!’ a teenage girl passing by called cheerily.
‘Thank you!’ Jenny replied with a smile.
‘Think you’ll survive the winter, though?’ the boy close behind the girl asked.
Sniggering, the two of them dived into the house next-door, where the angry man, Tom Laidler, had gone earlier.
Yes! she said to herself, trying to be strong after a moment of uncertainty. Yes, I will survive the winter. And a lot more besides. I must. All my boats are burned now.
Chapter Two
Surprisingly, she slept well that first night. The sleep of exhaustion, perhaps, but she felt well and fully recovered when she awoke the next morning. And she knew instantly, and exactly, where she was. It was the start of the first day of the rest of her life!
She lay still for a little while, getting used to the unfamiliar scene. The chaos and the clutter; boxes, more boxes., crates, bags all stacked high. Walls and a ceiling that were different. The window in the wrong place, too.
It wasn’t her room. And it certainly wasn’t the house where she had spent nearly all her life. No roar of traffic bustling down the A2 either. In fact, she concluded with a wry smile, it wasn’t Dartford at all. Whatever would Mum think!
Then she frowned and struggled with her emotions for a moment. She was used now to Mum no longer being with her, but thinking of her and their life together still brought the danger of tears.
To ward off the threat, she thrust the bed covers aside and sat up. Then she laughed. Bed covers! A couple of coats and some curtains. That was it. She had been far too tired last night to hunt for bedding. She had made do with what had come easily to hand.
Mum would have had a fit. She chuckled and shook her head. If Mum had been here still, they would have had to spend the night in a B & B somewhere. Not that the need would ever have arisen. Leaving Dartford – moving house even – would have been unthinkable. Totally impossible. Quite out of the question.
But that’s enough of that! she decided. It’s different now. Time to make a start, a new start.
Breakfast consisted of an orange and some muesli and long-life milk she had carefully hoarded and kept separate. As soon it was over, she began sorting through things and moving some of them around. Much of the unpacking could wait but she did need stuff for the kitchen and the bathroom as a priority. Some clean clothes, too, and proper bedding.
Happily, the removal men had very kindly plugged in the fridge and the washing machine before they left. They had also put much of the furniture in the provisionally right places. Not all of it, though. The big dresser was on the wrong wall, for a start. And the oak chest was in the wrong bedroom. But such things could wait. There were more urgent matters requiring her attention.
After a couple of hours she decided she’d made a good enough start and deserved a break. Besides, she was eager to take a look outside and get some fresh air. And she needed to buy some food. Time to see what the village shop was like. Tesco it wouldn’t be, but that wasn’t the end of the world. Just the world she knew.
The man from next-door was standing on the pavement when she opened her front door.
‘Good morning, Mr. Laidler,’ she said in a level tone, after a moment’s hesitation.
He looked round at her and nodded. ‘Morning! How are you getting on? Everything sorted?’
A wave of relief washed over her. It was a better start than she had feared after the previous night’s exchanges.
‘Not quite!’ she said with a chuckle. ‘But I’ve made a start.’
‘Aye, well. It’ll take you a while.’
They spoke then about the weather, and how warm it was still for the time of year. Jenny was happy with that. She didn’t want anything complicated. Or a follow-up argument about where her car was.
‘If you want a hand with anything,’ Tom said eventually, ‘just ask. I’m never far away.’
He seemed a different person. It was hard to understand.
‘Thank you,’ Jenny said. She hesitated. ‘I’m just going to the village shop but I might take you up on your offer later, if I may. There’s a couple of pieces of furniture I probably couldn’t move on my own.’
‘No problem,’ he assured her. ‘Look, I’m sorry about last night. We got off on the wrong foot. My fault entirely. Yesterday was a bad day for me.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ she told him cheerfully. ‘We all have those.’
***
‘Are you on holiday?’ the woman in the shop wanted to know.
Jenny shook her head. ‘No.’ She took a deep breath and added, ‘I’ve just moved in.’
The woman paused from ringing things up on the till. ‘Oh? To live, you mean?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Where would that be?’ She looked puzzled.
‘Providence Lane. Just across the green.’
‘Oh! Not Number S
even? The old shop?’
‘That’s right.’
‘I didn’t know anyone had moved in there. I heard it had been sold, of course, but…’
‘Last night,’ Jenny said. ‘I moved in last night – late.’
The woman smiled. ‘I’m Wendy, Wendy Rogers, by the way. Welcome to Cragley! I hope you like it here.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Have you come far?’
‘From Kent.’
‘To escape the water shortage?’ Wendy laughed and added, ‘We don’t have that problem here.’
Jenny introduced herself. ‘Is it your shop?’ she added.
‘Yes, it is. Not exactly a goldmine but somehow we keep going. What about the shop in Number Seven? What are you going to do with that? Convert it back into part of the house?’
Jenny outlined her plan.
‘Oh? That sounds lovely. I’ll look forward to you opening. Cragley could do with something like that. It will bring some visitors in.’
Just as Jenny began to feel pleased, a voice behind her said, ‘It’ll never work, something like that. Not in Cragley. What we need is a computer shop. Something modern and useful, not something else for the dinosaurs!’
It was the boy from next-door. He was standing in the doorway, hands deep in pockets, looking belligerent.
‘What do you know?’ Wendy scoffed. ‘When you’ve done a day’s work, James, folk might begin to listen to you. Until then…’
Jenny turned away, discomfited by the unpleasantness. She felt the boy staring at her still, challenging her to say something. She gave Wendy a vague smile and headed for the door.
‘Bye, now!’ Wendy called after her. ‘See you again.’
Jenny responded but her mind was on other things. What an unpleasant young man, she thought. He would have to live next-door to me!
Chapter Three
When she got back indoors, Jenny finally got round to having a look around the empty shop. It truly was empty. Dust everywhere. Collapsed shelving. Brackets torn from the wall. It was hard to see what it had once been. A dress shop, the estate agent had said without certainty. Or a shoe shop. Something like that. It was just a mess now. Someone had even squirted a rude message on the window. Although she did want to be cautious and fair-minded, the youth next door seemed a likely culprit.
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