by Jenny Kane
‘Stan sort of assumed we were a couple. I guess he spotted that we both had wedding rings on, and put two and two together and made …’
‘Five?’
‘Yeah.’ Abi didn’t add that the fact she had been holding hands with Max when the door was opened (purely for comfort, she told herself). ‘Why does Max still wear a ring? I thought the divorce was a while back now?’
‘Three years.’ Beth cast her eyes across the pictures on the floor as she spoke, ‘At first he left it on because he loved Lucinda despite what she did to him, and then he kept it on to repel other women. He never wanted to be hurt again, and to be frank, I don’t blame him.’
Feeling that the subject had been closed, Abi crouched down and picked up the nearest children’s picture of the seaside, ‘These are wonderful. You’re definitely going to display them in here then?’
‘I am. I was just trying to work out the logistics of it all, and of course, I need to get a couple of coats of paint up on the wall whatever I decide to ultimately do with the place.’
‘Do I detect a note of positivity? Has a decision beyond showing off your ex-pupils’ artwork been made?’
‘Well, that sort of depends on a few things.’ Beth paused, before saying, ‘I think we need a spot of coffee and a slice or two of cake. I might have a proposal for you.’
‘But you might not?’
‘Cake first. Then I want to hear everything about this morning.’
‘On the condition that you tell me what your proposal is straight afterwards?’
‘Even if I don’t think it is still a proposal I can make once we’ve chatted?’
Brimming with curiosity, Abi followed her friend out of the shop and into the sunshine. ‘Especially then!’
‘I don’t think I have ever spent so much time in coffee shops!
Beth looked surprised. ‘Not even in London? I pictured you bent over a table in one of the main coffee house chains, mochaccino to hand, and scribbling sketches for your latest kids’ book.’
Abi snorted. ‘Luke would never have allowed that. He would have seen it as common. I could have got a respectable take-out coffee to take back to my studio, or to the office, when I used to work with him. But sitting down outside of the work space during working hours was not on.’
‘Even if you were working at the same time?’
‘Even then.’
Beth scooped up a large spoonful of sugar to put in her coffee. ‘So didn’t Luke ever have business meetings outside of the office, in cafés and stuff?’
‘Oh, yes, but that was different.’
Beth frowned. The more she heard about Abi’s late husband the less she liked him. ‘It wasn’t different, Abi.’
‘I know.’ Stirring her own coffee, Abi felt she should explain. ‘He wasn’t always like that. Luke was so kind, and I fell for him big time.’
‘So what happened, if you don’t mind me asking?’
Taking a sustaining bite of homemade Victoria sponge for courage, Abi began to tell her story. All the time she spoke, she kept her eyes on the table, playing her cake fork through her sponge. It was only after she’d stopped talking that Abi dared raising her eyes to see if the expression on Beth’s face.
Her friend however, was not looking at Abi as if she was feeble. She was looking as angry as Max had done when she’d told him about Luke’s family. ‘Say that last bit again. Your brother-in-law, Simon, expected you to start going out with him, and then marry him so the house could stay in the Carter family?’
‘Uh-huh.’ Abi took a long drink from her fast cooling coffee.
‘And this is the same Simon who called you this morning and insisted you return to vet a suitable buyer?’
‘Yes.’ Abi caught the look in Beth’s eye. ‘You don’t think there is a buyer, do you? You think he’s made one up to get me back there.’
‘That is precisely what I think.’
Abi thought carefully before dismissing it. ‘I can’t see it. I made it pretty clear to Simon before I left that I wasn’t interested in remaining in the Carter family. He was quite astonished by how assertive I was to be honest; probably put him right off me as a future girlfriend.’
‘Ummm.’ Beth didn’t sound convinced. ‘So what will you do? You aren’t going to go rushing back to Surrey now, are you? I know you’d planned to go before you’d met Stan, but if you go Simon will think it’s because he told you to, and that would be a boost to his ego that it doesn’t sound as though he needs.’
Feeling so relieved that Beth hadn’t lectured her on being the doormat she was well aware she’d been for the past few years, Abi ate some of her sponge. ‘No, not now I’ve met Stan. And,’ she waved her cake fork in Beth’s direction, ‘definitely not before you’ve told me all about your proposal!’
‘You haven’t told me all about Stan yet!’
‘You’re prevaricating, woman!’
‘I know, I told you, I do that a lot outside of school.’
Abi stuck out her tongue. ‘Right, Miss Philips, I will give you the edited highlights. Then you’d better spill the beans or else!’
‘Or else what?’
Abi giggled. ‘I have absolutely no idea, but I’ll think of something!’
Chapter Eighteen
Having filled Beth in about everything that had happened with Stan, Abi tapped her teaspoon against her cup as if calling the meeting to order.
‘Your turn. Tell me about this proposal of yours before my curiosity makes me burst!’
‘OK, but before I do I want you to understand this. You do not have to agree just to please me. This has to be a choice you make carefully, don’t agree because you think you ought to. It seems to me you’ve done enough pleasing people at the expense of your own happiness to last a lifetime. Agreed?’
‘Agreed.’
‘Right then.’ Beth poured the final dregs from the coffee pot into their mugs. ‘I have considered pretty much every concept possible about what to do with my grandad’s shop, and I’ve decided to take your advice.’
‘My advice? I was trying not to give advice about the shop so that you made your own decision!’
‘I know. I wasn’t sure why you were so cagey, and just repeated what I’d already mused about cafés and bookshops and stuff when it was obvious you could see the old place all done up and sorted. I appreciate that you didn’t try and push me into anything.’
Cupping her mug of coffee, which was too cold by now to drink, but still pleasant to hold, Abi smiled encouragingly. ‘And so?’
‘I want to do something Grandad would approve of. I know he wouldn’t have liked anything he considered, and I quote, “all modern and silly.”’
‘Not going to be a sushi bar then!’
‘Hardly!’ Beth grinned. ‘I’d like it to be an artist’s studio with a difference.’
Abi bit the inside of her cheeks, forcing herself not to show any reaction until Beth had finished speaking.
‘I don’t want to give up teaching, so I’m going to need someone to run the place for me, which is where you come in – but only if you want to. I want you to be my studio gallery manager.’
Doing her best to keep her rising excitement in check, Abi said, ‘When you say a studio gallery with a difference, what did you actually have in mind?’
‘Well, I thought I could have half of the space as a studio with a full-time resident. Someone who wouldn’t mind if the public watched them at work. And the other half can then be booked up by artists, schools, potters, and such like on a monthly basis to display their work.’
‘Like a franchise, you mean, where freelance workers could rent space for a few weeks at a time?’
‘Exactly.’
‘You could do the same with the studio, you know? You could rent it out on a quarterly or monthly basis. Although monthly wouldn’t work for everyone, some artists need longer in one place at a time to complete a project than others.’
‘Oh, no, I don’t want you to just run the pla
ce, Abi, I want you to have the studio part! I mean, I can’t think of anywhere around here where the artist in residence is a children’s illustrator rather than an oil painter or something. You’d be perfect!’
‘Are you sure? I assumed you’d take a commission from each artist? I wouldn’t be able to actually sell my pictures, because they belong to the publisher as well as me.’
‘True on the commission front, but I will expect a cut of the profits from those who hire the gallery side. And you could sell the books you’ve illustrated, couldn’t you? I could take a percentage from those sales.’
‘A book corner? I’d love that.’ Abi beamed, but quickly forced the animation from her face. ‘But, Beth, are you sure? You haven’t known me five minutes, how do you know I wouldn’t mess it all up?’
‘Of course you won’t mess it all up! Plus, if you work in a place where people can drop in and out, you’ll get to meet the locals as well as the tourists. That’s got to be better than being isolated by working from home all the time. And if you worked here you could stop limiting your house-hunting to places with a space suitable for converting into a studio room.’
Abi couldn’t keep the pleasure from her face. As much as she loved working alone, Abi had to agree that Beth’s proposal would mean she could have the opportunity to meet new people on her terms. That would make a lovely change from only encountering those who were deemed ‘suitable’ for her to meet. ‘OK, I admit it. I’d love to!’
Getting up, Abi rushed around the table and gave her new friend a hug, ‘You have no idea how grateful I am that I got lost on my first day down here! If I hadn’t, I’d never have met you and Max!’
‘Come on then!’ Beth got up as well, ‘Let’s get back to our gallery. We have planning to do!’
She could see it all so clearly, and now that Beth had made the decision by herself, Abi felt able to share her ideas and enthusiasm more openly. ‘I’m guessing this would be the side you had in mind for the studio.’ Abi gestured to the right of the shop, with the advantages of half a picture window for natural light, but also space for the addition of artificial lighting for winter days and a walled corner for supplies, and the all-important coffee table. It also had two sets of electric plug points already in place, which would be extremely useful for setting up her laptop, recharging her phone, and keeping a kettle handy.
Beth nodded. ‘Exactly, and then the larger window space can be for our visiting artists.’
‘What sort of people did you have in mind for the art side of things? You mentioned painters and potters; did you want to keep everything on an entirely arts and crafts footing?’
‘Everything! Literally anything and everything that could come under arts and crafts. I will have just three rules. Firstly: you and I will both have to like the work. Secondly: no crochet. I can’t stand the stuff. It’s only one step from that to those awful little dolls with the crinoline dresses they used to put over the spare toilet rolls in the seventies!’
Abi giggled. ‘And the third rule?’
‘Third: they have to be local to Cornwall, or maybe Devon. There are a lot of galleries down here, and although a good number of them feature local works, far too many of them feature art from London-based artists, or those who claim to be local, but only live here at the weekends.’
Abi winced. ‘So, really, I shouldn’t work here then? I …’
‘I knew you’d say that! But that is quite different. You are moving here and intend to stay, and more importantly you don’t pretend to be local when you’re not. That’s the difference.’
‘A very convenient difference?’ Abi’s eyes twinkled mischievously, reminding Beth of Max for a moment.
‘Maybe! But it’s my shop, so I make the rules, and if those rules work to my advantage then so be it!’
Abi couldn’t help but laugh. ‘You sounded just like a teacher then.’
Beth hopped onto the bench that ran along the back of the shop. ‘Do you think I should leave this bench here, or pull it out?’
‘Leave it. Pictures, pots, books, and all sorts could be displayed there for sale. It’s a nice space, and it’s far away enough from the window for anything left there not to fade in the brightness of the sunshine during the summer months.’
‘Good point. I guess we’ll need blinds to pull down when it’s really bright?’
‘And a good-quality floor covering. Something hardwearing. This one is good, but this carpet has obviously been here a very long time.’
Jumping back onto the floor, Beth agreed. ‘Since before I was born. There are wooden floorboards underneath. We could rip up the carpet and polish up the wood. We should write a DIY to-do list for the shop itself, and then another list of all the different sorts of people we’d like to invite to exhibit.’
‘At a competitive price.’
Beth frowned. ‘How much is a competitive price?’
‘Not a clue, but I can find out.’ Abi paused, ‘If you want me to, that is? I mean, this is your place not mine. I don’t want to take over.’
‘Don’t go all timid on me now, I’ll welcome all the assistance I can get!’ Beth ran a hand over the bench. ‘This is going to need a good sanding-down and a varnish as well.’ She pulled a notebook and a pen out of her bag and jotted it down, along with ‘paint walls’ and ‘redo floor’.
‘What else is there?’
‘Blinds.’
‘Oh yes.’
‘A till, an accountant, and we need to register for tax.’
Beth looked panicked. ‘Errrr … that part of it I am not looking forward to! Where do I start?’
‘I’ll help, I’m already freelance, so I’ve done all that stuff before, and I’m sure Max must have as well. The decorating firm is his own business, isn’t it?’
‘Of course! Between the two of you, you’ll know everything official I need to do. Thanks, Abi!’
‘You’ll also have to work out fees for guests, and decide exactly what commission percentage you want to take from each sale. Oh, and you’ll need to work out how much I’ll be paying for renting space per month.’
‘What? Don’t be daft. You’re going to be more than earning your way by sitting in here every day so I can go to work. Anyway, I don’t suppose the gallery will earn enough for me to be able to pay you a wage for running the place for ages.’
‘But, Beth, this is your business! You can’t let me take up half your selling space for no fee, especially as I’m already getting paid for my work by someone else.’
‘I am not charging you for the space, Abi. Not while I can’t afford to pay you a wage for running the place. End of argument.’
Seeing Beth in full teacher mode made Abi giggle. ‘Yes, miss!’
The next hour disappeared in a flurry of list-making and planning. It was another hour after that before Beth summoned up the courage to ask Abi what she’d been dying to know, just to make certain her new business manager wasn’t going to desert her anytime soon.
‘Umm … look, I know this is a bit personal, but I need to know if you’re definitely going to take the job.’ Beth fiddled her pen between her fingers as they both sat on the floor of the shop, before shyly continuing, ‘If you can’t sell the Surrey house you will stay down here, won’t you? I mean, can you afford to take on two houses, one down here and one up there?’
Abi looked embarrassed. ‘Well … I can actually. Luke was really well off, plus I’ve always earned my own money.’ Picking at her fingernails, Abi mumbled, ‘I don’t want to use Luke’s money for anything if I can avoid it. The Carters always made me feel like a gold-digger and I wanted to prove them wrong … but now the house is mine, and it’s worth a small fortune, so yes, I can afford to do what I like.’
‘Wow. You don’t sound very pleased about that.’
Abi shrugged. ‘It has always felt wrong having money I didn’t earn.’
‘You are a very unusual woman, Abi Carter!’ Beth joked as she straightened up, ‘and you are also quite a catch. D
on’t tell Max though, about how much your house is worth, I mean, he is always put off by women if they have money.’
‘Put off?’
‘Oh come on, Abi, don’t tell me you hadn’t noticed he fancies you?’
Abi’s face coloured from pink to beetroot, ‘well I guess I wondered if maybe he did.’
Beth spoke kindly, ‘You like him too, don’t you?’
Shaking he head Abi said, ‘I will neither confirm nor deny that statement, but I do know it’s too soon for me. It’s just too soon.’
Beth put her hand on her hips as Abi got to her feet, ‘I understand that totally, hun. Life, on the other hand, doesn’t work like that.’
Chapter Nineteen
Abi didn’t exactly decide to ignore Simon’s summons, but after leaving him a phone message confirming that she was happy for him to sort out the sale without her, she felt she could get on with helping Beth.
The next three days passed with lightning speed as Abi and Beth pored over crafts catalogues and designed adverts to send out to prospective studio incumbents. Abi spent ages writing out a shortlist, and then a much longer list, of all the people she thought it might worthwhile approaching. Every now and again Beth peered over Abi’s shoulder and made either positive or negative noises. Just as Abi was about to close the browser window for a particularly good potter’s web site, Beth glanced in her direction. Her eyes caught the photo of the potter himself in the corner. ‘Ohhh, nice! I’m not sure what his pots are like, but he’d be welcome here anytime!’
‘Beth! Honestly, you need a boyfriend!’
‘I do! And that there potter would fit the bill perfectly!’ Smirking playfully, Beth winked at Abi. ‘If his goods are as hot as his photo, we’d make a profit in a week!’
Much to Abi’s gratitude, neither Beth nor Max had mentioned the fact that she was still in Cornwall, even though it was days since Simon’s call. Each time she had a crisis of conscience and decided she ought to go to Surrey, Abi sternly told herself that it was more important to establish her new life than to revisit the one she’d left behind. The fact that she jumped slightly each time her mobile went off was something Abi kept quiet, as she engrossed herself in the plans for the shop. She wasn’t just dreading hearing back from a disgruntled Simon: Abi was also fielding calls from the two Cornish estate agents she’d seen properties with.
