The Village Shop for Lonely Hearts

by Alison Sherlock

  He climbed out of the seat and went around to open the bonnet. But even that wouldn’t open so that he could try and see what had gone wrong.

  It was an utter disaster. Instead of being stuck in the storeroom, the tractor was now stuck in the middle of the shop!

  Josh felt a white-hot fury of frustration. ‘I don’t believe this!’ he shouted, kicking the fender in his anger. To add insult to injury, it fell off onto the floor with a clang. He stared at it in shock. How had his life gone so badly, terribly, wrong?

  He looked at Amber, who had come to stand next to him. Hoping he hadn’t frightened her with his anger, he turned to placate her. But, to his amazement, she looked like she was trying not to smile.

  ‘It’s not funny!’ he said, his voice louder than normal with his despair.

  ‘I know it’s not,’ she said, before pressing her lips together to stop the smile from spreading across her face.

  ‘This is terrible!’ he carried on, the anger suddenly fading as quickly as it arrived.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ she nodded, smothering a giggle.

  ‘We’ve got a bloody tractor stuck in the middle of the shop!’ he said, pointing out the obvious.

  And then they both burst out laughing at the same time. On and on they laughed until Amber clutched her stomach.

  ‘This is crazy,’ she said, still laughing.

  ‘Oh God! What have I done?’ he said, still feeling the absolute horror of the situation.

  They both kept laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

  Finally, Amber managed to get a hold of herself. ‘What are we going to do?’ she asked, wide-eyed as she stared at the tractor.

  Josh looked at her for a long moment, but he was out of ideas.

  ‘Grab your coat,’ he found himself saying. ‘Let’s go to the pub and get drunk.’

  He had almost expected her to refuse, but, to his grateful surprise, she nodded and said, ‘Yeah. Definitely.’

  And so they switched off the lights in the shop, locked up and headed across to the pub, leaving the broken-down tractor still in the middle of the shop floor.

  18

  Amber shivered as they went from the cold dark air of an October’s night to the warm and somewhat welcoming Black Swan pub.

  She hadn’t thought to change her clothes since the tractor had stopped working and felt filthy, probably looked it too, she thought. She checked Josh’s appearance and saw that he had various smudges across his face and clothes. She instantly knew that she probably looked just as bad.

  ‘What the hell happened to you two?’ asked Belle, behind the bar and goggle-eyed, confirming Amber’s suspicions. ‘I only saw you a few hours ago and you looked, what’s the word, oh yeah, clean!’

  ‘Don’t ask,’ Josh told her, shaking his head. ‘And for God’s sake don’t mention this to my grandmother. Wine, please. Make it a bottle, would you?’

  Belle looked surprised as she continued to take in their smoky and dishevelled appearances. ‘White or red?’

  Josh looked at Amber in question.

  ‘White, please,’ she told him.

  ‘Go grab those armchairs by the fire and I’ll bring it over,’ he said.

  The battered leather armchairs were surprisingly comfortable, thought Amber as she sat down. Or perhaps she was just so tired and shocked that she didn’t care any more.

  As Josh walked back from the bar, she noticed that his jeans were covered in oil and various dirty marks. She supposed if he didn’t mind, then she shouldn’t fret over her appearance either. But it was always a battle to fight her inner critic.

  ‘No beer tonight?’ she said, as he shrugged off his jacket and sat down in the battered chair on the other side of the table.

  ‘I fancied a glass of wine and if you’ve tasted the house wine they’ve got behind the bar, you’d understand that it’d be safer to go for an unopened bottle,’ he told her, placing the wine and glasses on the small wobbly wooden table between them. ‘Besides, I need a big drink after that little incident.’

  Despite the dark lighting and quiet atmosphere of the pub, it was cosy sitting next to the flames as the logs crackled.

  As he poured out their drinks, Josh carried on, ‘I’ve also ordered chips and a pizza to share. If they’re undercooked, we can always heat them up here on the fire.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’m starving.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s thirsty work ruining a shop.’ He handed her a large glass of wine. ‘Cheers,’ he said, raising his own glass at her.

  She smiled. ‘Cheers,’ she replied and took a sip of the crisp white wine. ‘Mmm, I needed that.’

  ‘Me too,’ he said with a grunt as he leant back against the cushions.

  ‘I don’t think you’ve entirely ruined the shop,’ she told, him although she couldn’t stop herself giggling. ‘Sorry,’ she said, blushing as he looked sharply at her.

  ‘You’re OK,’ he said, after a beat, his blue eyes softening as he continued to look at her. ‘I’d probably be laughing too if I wasn’t weeping with despair on the inside.’

  ‘Maybe it isn’t as bad as you think,’ she told him.

  ‘The bank is threatening to repossess the place unless we start making a profit,’ he told her. ‘We have no customers and the small amount that we do have now can’t even come in because there’s a bloody tractor in the middle of the shop floor.’

  ‘I never said it was perfect,’ she muttered, giving him a sheepish grin.

  She was grateful to see him smile at her joke. ‘Yeah,’ he said, before blowing out a sigh.

  ‘Is it really that bad with the bank?’ she asked.

  He nodded in reply.

  ‘Does your mum know?’

  Josh looked up at her. ‘No. Not the whole hideous picture anyway.’

  ‘You’ve been protecting her from it all this time because she’s been ill,’ said Amber, thinking out loud.

  Josh shrugged his shoulders in reply.

  ‘I get it,’ she told him. ‘We always protect our parents from the bad stuff so they don’t worry about us.’

  He raised an eyebrow in question. ‘You had problems in New York?’

  She hesitated. It had started a long time before New York, she thought.

  ‘It’s OK,’ he said quickly. ‘You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.’

  But he’d been so honest, she thought to herself. After all, he had trusted her with his problems. She took another large gulp of wine before speaking. ‘My boss in New York was pretty awful.’

  ‘Pervert?’

  She almost spat out her drink, laughing in shock. ‘No! Not that!’ She wiped a bit of wine from her chin. ‘No, she wasn’t very good at her job and preferred to take credit for everyone else’s work. Including mine.’

  He studied her for a moment. ‘And she kept her job whilst you lost yours in the redundancies.’

  ‘I was the outsider,’ she told him. As usual, she added to herself.

  ‘Didn’t you have any work colleagues who could stand up for you?’

  She shook her head. ‘I was pretty isolated over there. First in, last out, that kind of thing.’

  ‘So in a way it was a blessing that you got made redundant,’ he said.

  She laughed without humour. ‘Yeah, I’ve got no job and no home either because my parents emigrated whilst I was abroad and they’ve gone to a place where I can’t possibly carry on with my career.’

  ‘I admit, it doesn’t sound great,’ he told her. ‘Look, you’ve got a job whilst you need it here. You know that. It just doesn’t pay very much.’

  ‘Does it pay at all?’ she asked him in jest.

  ‘Not really.’

  She laughed once more. ‘And there was me thinking that you couldn’t wait to get rid of me.’

  He stared at her for a beat. ‘I never said that. Anyway, I liked your window displays,’ he said.

  She blushed and looked at her feet. ‘It’s easy when you know how.’

 
‘Rubbish,’ he said, frowning. ‘I think you’ve either got an artistic talent or, like me, you most definitely haven’t. You need to have more confidence in yourself.’

  She picked up her wine glass. ‘That’s easier said than done, believe me.’

  When their pizza and chips arrived, they were both delighted that, for once, the food was actually cooked all the way through. Probably because Belle had taken charge of their meal, Amber suspected.

  They ate in a comfortable silence, with Josh filling up their glasses once more.

  ‘I mean it,’ he told her, after they’d finished eating. ‘You can stay here as long as you want. It’d mean a lot to Mum.’ He paused. ‘And I need the help too.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  She was touched. Was he actually reaching out to her?

  ‘Is that why you keep drawing?’ he suddenly said.

  She was confused. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You said the other day that drawing and designing were your safety net. I get that you had a bad time in New York. But why did you need one when you were growing up?’ he asked, before shaking his head. ‘Sorry. None of my business.’

  Amber took a large gulp of wine. And then another before answering. ‘Growing up can be hard sometimes. We moved around a lot. That makes it difficult to make friends. And some of the other girls, kids, can be mean.’

  The silence stretched out as Josh studied her thoughtfully. ‘I see. That must have been tough.’

  ‘It didn’t do wonders for my self-confidence,’ she told him.

  ‘So why were you drawing last night?’ he asked. ‘You know, when I found you in the shop.’

  Amber gulped, her cheeks suddenly filled with heat as she remembered standing there in just a towel. She took another large glug of wine but managed to spill most of it down her chin.

  ‘I thought you were a burglar,’ he told her, smiling. ‘Albeit slightly underdressed.’

  ‘What would I be stealing?’ she muttered, still blushing.

  ‘You’ve got a point there,’ he said.

  Thankfully his line of questioning was interrupted by the entertainment that Mick had booked for the evening. Amber and Josh gave up all hope of a conversation for the next hour as they struggled to hear themselves think over the ever-increasingly out-of-tune Coldplay fake singer. So they finished off the bottle of wine instead.

  During an all too brief pause in the singing, Josh went and bought another bottle.

  ‘It’s not like we’ve got to rush to get up in the morning,’ he told her, refilling her glass to the brim. ‘The shop is empty.’

  ‘Apart from the tractor,’ she reminded him, before taking a large glug of wine. Her head was beginning to go fuzzy, but she didn’t care. The alcohol was dulling the pain of the singing.

  ‘I’d almost forgotten about that! What are we going to do?’ said Josh, running a hand through his hair.

  ‘I think we should leave it there,’ she told him, laughing.

  ‘We may have to if I can’t get the damn thing going,’ he replied, also starting to laugh.

  She took another sip of wine. ‘If only it were prettier,’ she thought out loud.

  ‘Excuse me, but that is, was, my dad’s prize tractor,’ he told her, in a fake haughty tone. ‘I’ll have you know that it’s a classic.’

  ‘A classic pile of rusty junk,’ she replied, feeling brave with a few glasses of wine inside.

  ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘That tractor meant everything to my dad.’

  ‘I know,’ she told him. ‘I was only joking. Maybe if it were painted it would look better.’

  Josh stared into the flames. ‘My old man loved tinkering with that thing. Every spare moment. “We’re going to get it working”, he would say. Every time. There was always hope that it would be useful to us. But it doesn’t work.’

  ‘Maybe it doesn’t need to,’ said Amber, staring at the flames as she tried to think of a solution.

  ‘You’re not seriously suggesting that we keep the tractor where it is,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘You’re going to feel pretty silly in the morning when you sober up.’

  ‘You just need a bit of vision,’ she told him.

  ‘All I need are earplugs if that singer starts again,’ he replied.

  Josh was looking a bit drunk, she realised as she glanced across at him. He had closed his eyes in exhaustion and she noted what a handsome face it was.

  When his eyes suddenly flew open to look directly at her, she quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t caught her staring.

  ‘We’d better get home,’ he said. ‘Before I fall asleep in this chair and they start singing again.’

  ‘The chairs are nice and comfy, aren’t they?’ she said.

  ‘Must be the wine talking,’ he said, smiling. ‘Come on.’

  They said goodnight to Belle and made a somewhat uneven path across the pub and out the front door.

  Once outside in the colder night air, Amber realised how drunk she really was.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, snagging her boot on a loose bit of pavement and bumping into Josh.

  ‘I think we’d better link arms,’ he told her, putting his arm through hers as they began to walk over the narrow pedestrian bridge. ‘Otherwise I’ll end up in the river again.’

  ‘It was an accident,’ she said, laughing. ‘Now I’ve got to know you a bit better I would totally push you in on purpose next time.’

  ‘Ha!’ he said, as they reached the other side. ‘Next time, I’ll make sure you go in first.’

  He opened up the shop, which looked softer, lit only by the fairy lights in the window.

  Josh walked through first and immediately bumped into the tractor, having forgotten it was there. ‘Ow!’ he said, hopping around and holding his knee.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Amber asked, rushing up to him.

  When he straightened, up, she realised how close he was standing in front of her. She had a sudden impulse to kiss him. It must be the wine, she told herself.

  ‘Well,’ she said, her voice trailing off in the awkward silence as they stared at each other. The familiarity that they had shared in the pub suddenly seeming a long way away.

  ‘You go up. I’ll make sure we’re locked up down here,’ he told her, looking into her face.

  She nodded. ‘Yeah. You don’t want anyone stealing the tractor.’

  He smiled. ‘My thoughts exactly. Goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight,’ she replied, turning to go upstairs and away from Josh before she did something really crazy that she may regret in the morning.

  19

  Amber woke up the following morning with a raging hangover. Exactly how much wine had she had to drink the previous night?

  She moved her head and groaned at the pounding headache. She desperately tried to remember what had happened. Then her fuzzy brain finally began to figure it all out. She had gone to the pub with Josh after the tractor had broken down. They had drunk quite a bit, from what she could even bring herself to remember. Rather more than a bit of wine, she realised as her head continued to ache. And then what? She clutched her head and forced her brain to remember what had happened.

  Finally, her brain cells slowly clunked into gear. Nothing had happened. She slumped back onto her pillow in relief.

  But there had been something. A moment. When Josh had looked at her and she had really wanted to see what it felt like to be kissed by him. But that was ridiculous, utterly crazy. Besides, it was just the wine talking. She didn’t feel like that about him at all.

  Getting showered and dressed was a painful process, involving much swearing and moaning as she bumped her head on the low ceiling but finally she felt able to head into the kitchen. The flat was quiet. The door to Josh’s bedroom was open, meaning that he had already got up and gone downstairs to open up the shop.

  Tea and toast helped to start to clear her fuzzy head and afterwards she slowly and carefully headed downstairs.

  As she walked from the back room into the main
shop, the low sunlight was streaming through the windows. It was so bright it made her gasp and cover her eyes with her hands.

  ‘Oh God,’ she cried. ‘Somebody switch off the lights.’

  ‘I’ve been trying, believe me,’ groaned Josh from somewhere nearby.

  She peered through her fingers and saw that he was actually sitting on the driver’s seat of the rusty tractor, which was still in the middle of the shop. Despite still feeling awful, she couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculous sight.

  ‘I’m not sure you should be driving in your condition,’ she told him, walking over to stand next to the tractor.

  He looked at her with bleary eyes. ‘Are you feeling as bad as I look?’

  She nodded. ‘Oh yes.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Gee, thanks,’ she told him.

  He smiled, although even that looked a bit painful. ‘Misery loves company,’ he said.

  She looked at the tractor. ‘Well, here we all are,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah.’ He reached out and grasped the steering wheel. ‘I was just trying to work out how we can get it towed out of here. And I am completely and utterly clueless as to how to make that happen.’

  He looked sad for a moment and Amber remembered their conversation in the pub about how restoring the tractor had been a dream of his late father’s.

  ‘Maybe it doesn’t need to go,’ she found herself blurting out.

  He looked up at her. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘When I was down here the other night drawing, you know, in my, er, towel,’ she began, blushing furiously.

  Josh grinned. ‘I remember,’ he said, his eyes gleaming.

  She gulped and forced herself to carry on. ‘Yes, well, er, what I was doing was designing the shop. But there was something missing.’

  ‘You’re telling me that the thing missing in your wonderful professional design was a filthy broken-down tractor.’ He laughed. ‘Are you still drunk?’

  ‘No, I’m serious,’ she told him. ‘Look, if you really think that the engine can’t be fixed, then why not restore the bodywork instead. Paint the sides, polish the rest of it.’ She began to walk slowly around it, thinking out loud. ‘It could work. I think it could really work.’