‘You poor thing,’ she said, smiling. ‘You must be shattered. Let’s get the bill and you can head back to the flat.’
‘You go ahead,’ said Josh, nursing his pint. ‘I’m going to finish my drink, so I’ll pay up in a while.’
He wished them goodnight and then they left the pub.
Outside, it was dark already and the temperature had dropped. At least she still had her leather jacket, thought Amber, drawing it around her as she glanced up. The sky was clear and full of stars. She had missed seeing them in Manhattan, she realised.
Cathy tucked her hand through Tilly’s arm as they went back across the bridge. Amber just prayed that she wasn’t so tired that she fell in again, but thankfully they all made it to the other side safely.
As they reached the shop, Amber heard Cathy’s soft sigh.
‘Is everything OK?’ she asked.
Cathy gave her a sad smile. ‘I just miss Todd, that’s all. Things just aren’t the same any more.’
Tilly squeezed her hand and gave Amber a watery smile.
‘I don’t know,’ carried on Cathy, ‘the shop seems to have become sadder since we lost Todd. Poor Josh is stuck here with me when he should be living and travelling like his brother.’
‘Maybe he likes it here,’ said Amber.
But Cathy shook her head. ‘He just seems sad and frustrated most of the time.’ She gave herself a little shake and then fixed a smile on her face. ‘Now, are you sure you’ll be all right up there in the flat on your own? I’m going to walk mum home. I won’t be long and Josh will be back soon.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ said Amber.
‘I’m sure you’re desperate for your bed,’ said Cathy.
Amber wished them goodnight as Cathy unlocked the back door of the shop and switched on the lights so she could find her way up the stairs.
Amber quickly washed her face before going into the small guest bedroom. She had never been so grateful to see a bed in her life. Regardless of the fact that Cathy had given her a pair of Christmas pyjamas, at least she could be tucked up in the warmth and lying flat on her back, unlike the previous night where she had tried and failed to find a comfortable sleeping position on the plane.
Within seconds of her head hitting the pillow, she was asleep, her dreams full of stars and narrow stone bridges over the river.
6
Amber woke to find sunlight streaming through a gap in the curtains in her bedroom and onto her face. She was amazed to hear birdsong until she slowly realised that she was definitely not in New York any more and was actually in the flat above Cranbridge Stores.
The room she had rented in a shared flat had not been peaceful. In New York, she had endured flatmates that shouted at each other at all times of the day and night, busy streets outside full of traffic, horns and sirens. It had been a constant urban white noise. But not in Cranbridge.
She rolled over in her bed to take a peep around the curtains. Her bedroom overlooked Riverside Lane and she could see the river sparkling under the morning sunlight. Already the seasonal transition from late summer into autumn was well under way. The trees that flanked the river were covered with golden leaves, some of which were drifting down to the ground in a gentle breeze.
It was a lovely day to be outside and yet she saw only one person in the distance walking their dog. She peered left and then right on both sides of the river, but there was nobody else in sight. It was so quiet, she thought. She was so used to being jostled on the packed streets of New York and London, but not here.
Another person came into view, walking hurriedly along the other side of the river. So the village wasn’t completely devoid of people. Just customers who didn’t want to come into the shop.
She lay back in bed, looking around the tiny room. Apparently it had been Grandma Tilly’s room up until recently. Despite the flowery wallpaper, it was a small but quite sweet room, with only a single bed, a narrow wardrobe and a chest of drawers. A pile of Cathy’s clothes were folded and lay on top of the drawers.
Amber frowned, remembering her lost luggage and grabbed her phone to check for any updates. She was amazed to see that it had gone past eight o’clock in the morning. She had managed to sleep solidly for ten hours. She hadn’t slept so well since she had moved to New York. The noise in the city that never sleeps had unsettled her and so she hadn’t been able to do so much either.
A bit embarrassed about her lie-in, she leapt out of bed. At least she had been able to wash and dry her clothes from the previous day, so they were clean. If her suitcases didn’t arrive that day, she’d have to head out later to buy some new underwear and other supplies. She couldn’t keep borrowing Cathy’s clothes.
She left her bedroom and went to the bathroom across the hallway. On the way, she glanced inside what appeared to be Josh’s bedroom which was next to the spare bedroom. The door was already open and there was no sound from within. Presumably he was already downstairs at work.
She wondered about Josh. He looked like a broken man at one point during the previous evening when he thought no one was watching him. The shock of losing his dad had obviously taken its toll. From what she’d heard, he had been a successful businessman until a few years ago, so his life had obviously changed dramatically, and, perhaps, not for the better either.
She headed down the stairs and immediately came across Cathy and Josh in the crowded storeroom.
‘Good morning,’ said Cathy, smiling. ‘You must have slept well.’
‘Good morning,’ replied Amber. ‘I did, but you should have woken me up earlier.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Cathy. ‘You obviously needed the rest.’
‘It’s not like you’ve missed any customers,’ said Josh, gesturing into the empty shop with a sad smile.
Cathy sighed loudly, glaring briefly at her son before saying, ‘Amber isn’t here to work. She’s on holiday. Now, let’s get you some breakfast.’
Amber followed Cathy back up the stairs and into the tiny kitchen.
Cathy made Amber sit at the table whilst she rushed around the room preparing some toast and coffee. She appeared almost frenzied, thought Amber, unloading the dishwasher and cleaning the work surfaces.
‘Won’t you have a coffee with me?’ asked Amber, as Cathy placed a plate of toast and a steaming mug of coffee on the table. ‘And I can tidy up after myself. Please don’t worry.’
‘Maybe later,’ said Cathy, smiling at her. ‘Now don’t you rush your breakfast. Take your time. Oh and grab your coat before you come back down. Mum’s looking forward to your visit.’
Despite being used to her own company, Amber felt uneasy having too leisurely a breakfast when everyone else was at work.
So she ate her toast, tidied away her plate and then headed back into the shop, with her leather jacket in her hand.
‘Oh good,’ said Cathy, nodding at Amber’s jacket. ‘Let me grab my coat and then I’ll show you the way to Mum’s new place.’
It was only a five-minute walk to the other end of Riverside Lane, past the mill and over the last of the pedestrian bridges to the other side of the river, where a single line of newly built tiny bungalows lay on a small incline. They were built in the same coloured brick as the rest of the village, although perhaps not as pretty as the other buildings. But at least they had no stairs, thought Amber as they headed up the paved path to the front door of No. 1.
Cathy let herself in with a key and called out, ‘Coo-eee! It’s only us!’
‘Good morning!’ said Tilly, who was waiting in the narrow hallway with a wide smile. She was wearing her coat already. ‘I thought we could have our walk now and coffee later as they’re forecasting rain and I don’t want to lose my perm just yet.’
‘You two go and enjoy yourselves,’ said Cathy, giving them both a wide smile. ‘I’ve too much to be getting on with today. Now, Mum, I need to strip your bed and put the bedding in for a wash as well.’
As she rushed off past them and into the tiny bedroom, Amber
saw Tilly shake her head slightly.
Amber hesitated before asking softly, ‘Is Cathy OK?’
Tilly sighed. ‘She’s worried about her scan later this week,’ she said in a quiet tone. ‘It’s only another check-up, but it hangs over her like a cloud until she gets the results. She gets a bit manic until it’s over with.’
‘I’m sure she’ll be OK,’ said Amber.
‘I hope so, love. It’s been a tough two years.’
As Cathy rushed past into the kitchen with an armful of bedding, Tilly visibly brightened up.
‘Now, how about that walk? Unless I’m needed in the shop, of course.’ Tilly sounded almost hopeful.
‘Nonsense!’ beamed Cathy. ‘Josh and I can handle it. You two have a nice walk. I’m sure that’ll brush off the last of Amber’s jet lag.’
So Amber and Tilly headed back outside. Amber looked across at the river as Tilly slipped on her gloves.
‘At least you’ve stayed in the centre of the village,’ said Amber.
‘It still feels a little strange to be over this side of the river,’ said Tilly, linking her arm with Amber’s as they began to walk. ‘I’ve always lived over the shop, you see.’
They continued down the lane until they were standing opposite the shop, which was on the other side of the river.
They both stood and looked at it for a while. It was a very attractive building with its sandy-coloured brick and pointed roof, thought Amber. But the veranda was too bare. It needed a bit of colour and, truth be told, a lick of paint or wood resin to make it look a bit less shabby.
‘I remember the first time I ever clapped eyes on the place,’ said Tilly. ‘It was the prettiest place I’d ever seen.’
Amber nodded. ‘I’m sure it was.’
At one time, she added silently to herself.
‘Bill my husband, had grown up here. In fact, it was first owned by his great-grandfather. Then his father and then it passed to us to take care of. Over 100 years of Kennedys have run the stores. I thought that perhaps the line of succession would stop there when Cathy married Todd, who began to make a name for himself with his music. I mean, what’s a rock musician going to do in little old Cranbridge?’
Amber joined in her soft laughter. ‘But he came anyway?’
‘Aye, that he did,’ said Tilly nodding. ‘To my great surprise, I must confess. He was never the country village type. But he was starting to have a few heart problems and, truth be told, I think he was growing weary of the lifestyle. So he packed up the family and came here.’ Her smile held sadness though. ‘So Todd and Cathy took over the shop once I was widowed.’
‘Was it busier in those days?’ asked Amber.
Tilly sighed. ‘In the start, yes it was. It was a little shop full of everything that the villagers needed. But Todd was so enthusiastic that he used to carry on buying anything that he could lay his hands on. Toys, tools, stationery, it all began to pile up. As you can see, he carried on buying stock right up until…’ Her voice trailed off.
Amber squeezed her hand, which Tilly absent-mindedly patted. ‘Come on, love. I promised I’d show you the village and we haven’t got beyond the shop yet.’
Tilly led Amber across the river, but then turned away from the shop and further down Riverside Lane.
‘This used to be the haberdashery,’ she said, as they went past the shop next door to Cranbridge Stores. It was a replica of their own shop and equally as shabby from the outside, albeit with an empty room inside.
‘Beautiful material Mavis used to have in there too,’ said Tilly. ‘So Todd bought off the remaining rolls before they left. That was a long time ago now, of course. But I’ve heard a rumour that the local newspaper’s going to be moving in there.’
‘Really?’ Amber was stunned. Surely they would have been better off in a town somewhere.
‘Well, Frank Conway owns the newspaper, you see. Have you met him yet? He lives next door to me. Anyway, he runs a whole bunch of local papers and apparently they’ve had problems with the offices they’re renting.’ Tilly shrugged. ‘Anyway, it will be nice to have someone next door after the shop lying empty all this time.’
Amber stepped forward to peer inside as there were no curtains or boards on the windows. She was amazed at the space inside. It was huge and now quite obvious to her how impractical and full Cranbridge Stores really was.
She rejoined Tilly and they continued walking down the lane.
‘That was the hairdressers,’ said Tilly as they went past the next shop. ‘Only shut last month. I’ve been desperately hanging on to my perm ever since. And this last one was the bakery,’ she said as they reached the last shop before the mill. ‘It’s been years since I had a proper home-made loaf of bread. Such a shame because the mill is lovely when it gets going. Not that it has for years, of course.’
The old bakery was another shop that appeared to be the same design as the other three before it. Large door in the middle with two huge bay windows on either side. A flat above the shop that narrowed into a pointy roof.
The mill was built in the same warm-coloured stone, but there were a few spokes on the wooden wheel that appeared to be broken.
They stopped and turned around to look at the river as it made its way through the centre of the village. Once more, apart from the birdsong, it was quiet.
‘Where did all the villagers go?’ asked Amber.
Tilly looked at her. ‘You mean, why’s it so quiet?’
Amber nodded.
‘There’s only me and a few other creaky old folks hanging on in there from the original villagers.’ Tilly smiled. ‘So places get sold and new people move in. Most of them commute into the nearby towns, from what I’ve heard. Either by car or the train station which is in the next village. Or they work from home, shut up inside with their broadband. At the weekends, they’re on their mountain bikes or they get into their 4 x 4s and head to Aldwych town, which is ten miles away. They’ve got a cinema, a big shopping centre, sports centre, the lot. It’s a real shame, though.’
‘What about the church?’ asked Amber, looking across the river to the tiny church on the end of the lane opposite.
‘Glenda’s our new vicar,’ said Tilly. ‘Arrived last summer. She’s done a marvellous job with making Sunday morning service a bit more interesting. She’s real fun. But times change and religion has changed along with it.’
‘But people still live here so they must need to shop in the village occasionally,’ said Amber, trying to think of some kind of solution.
‘I don’t know, love,’ said Tilly, blowing out a sigh. ‘It’s hard to describe, but it used to be bustling here. A community. Everyone looked out for each other. People need somewhere central to gather around.’
Amber looked down the river to The Black Swan pub. ‘So, if not the church, what about the pub?’
Tilly laughed. ‘You’ve tasted their food, haven’t you? Mike and Angie don’t exactly give off a welcoming ambience either, wouldn’t you say? And last night was one of their milder rows, trust me.’
‘And yet it is isolating when you work from home,’ said Amber. ‘Or when you just stay indoors all day.’ She spoke from personal experience.
‘It certainly is.’ Tilly gave a whisper of a sigh and Amber realised that perhaps the move into the bungalow wasn’t perhaps a happier solution after all. Tilly gave her a sad smile. ‘Don’t you mind me, love,’ she said, squeezing Amber’s hand. ‘It’ll be nice to have some company whilst you’re here. Cathy and Josh are always so busy that I hardly see anyone these days. So I stick on the television and get knitting, just to keep my hands active.’
They walked across one of the narrow pedestrian bridges to the other side of the river. All the time, Amber was racking her brains, trying to think of how they could bring everyone out and into the fresh air. The village was so pretty. It just needed a central point, other than the river. Somewhere for people to gather and meet. Somewhere like Cranbridge Stores, she mused.
She w
ished she could help the family and in turn help the shop to flourish before she left. But her skills were limited and she had no idea what could be done to make a difference in the meantime.
7
Josh stood at the front door of the shop, looking inwards and wondering where on earth to begin.
He had intended to start getting some kind of organisation in the shop that day, hoping that Amber’s visit would cause a distraction for his mum. Perhaps even get her out of the shop, for once. She had stopped going anywhere recently, desperate, it appeared, to stay inside. But Cathy had sent Grandma Tilly out with Amber instead, leaving them bonded in the awkward atmosphere together.
‘What’s this?’ His mother’s voice broke into his train of thought.
He turned his head and saw her holding an envelope that he had deliberately left on the counter the previous evening.
‘It’s the paperwork for a contactless payment system,’ Josh told her, trying with all his might not to roll his eyes. ‘I sent off for the details last week.’
‘What do we need that for?’
‘Mum, most people want to pay with a card these days.’ When they bother to come in, he added silently to himself, glancing around the empty shop.
‘People don’t seem to mind the till,’ said his mum, gesturing at the ancient huge till.
In Josh’s eyes it was a monstrosity from a bygone era, totally unsuitable for the modern age.
‘People need to be able to pay with a card,’ he repeated.
‘It makes a lovely sound when the drawer opens,’ his mum carried on, touching the edge. ‘That’s why your dad liked it so much. It was your grandad’s, you know.’
Josh took a deep breath. ‘I know it was Grandad’s. But it doesn’t work for us as well as it could. It’s obsolete.’
‘Just like me, I suppose,’ said his mum, any sign of a good mood quickly disappearing.
He knew why his mum was like she was. She was still desperately trying to preserve his dad’s memory. The trouble was, Josh felt as if he were failing both of his parents each and every day.
The Village Shop for Lonely Hearts Page 5
