by Jenny Kane
The cottages had both been sweet. A little on the compact side, but now that her studio space was sorted out, there was no reason that she shouldn’t buy and live in either one of them. Both nicely located, both benefitting from very rare parking spaces, both with manageable gardens and easy access to a local shop, pub, and the seaside. Yet something was stopping Abi putting in an offer on either of them. When discussing it with Beth she said it was because she wanted to hold out for something a little closer to the forthcoming gallery/studio, but in her heart Abi knew it was because she couldn’t shift the idea of Abbey’s House from her head. Until she found a place that was as perfect as that one, no other property was going to stand a chance.
Rinsing her hands under the kitchen tap, Beth called over her shoulder to where Abi was sat at the table crossing off a few tasks from their eternal list. ‘Did I tell you that Max has arranged for us to borrow a friend’s floor polisher? He reckons it’ll take about four runs over the wooden boards to return them to their original glory. It’s arriving today.’
‘Then do we varnish them, or will the polisher be enough, do you think?’
‘I’m hoping it’ll be enough, but I guess a coat or two of varnish might toughen up the floor a bit more, make it easier to keep clean and stuff. It’d take lots of time to dry though. I might ask Max what he thinks first.’
‘I’ll add it to the list anyway, just in case.’ Abi scribbled it down and then checked her phone for the date. It was already the first of August. ‘Are you still set on getting this place open before you start back at school in September?’
Drying her hands on a towel, Beth leaned back against the sink. ‘Do think that’s pushing it a bit? I’d like to have everything up and running while I have the time to pitch in. By September I’ll be back to planning lessons. Am I being unrealistic?’
Abi smiled. They’d had this conversation several times since Abi had first broached the subject of when Beth was planning to open. When she had first asked, Abi had expected Beth to say in time for Christmas, not that she was hoping to be up and running within a month.
Sounding more certain than she was, Abi calmed her friend, ‘It’ll be just fine. Now this place is as empty as it can be, I’ll crack on with the polishing as soon as the equipment arrives. I’ve used one before, and although it can be tough going, it isn’t difficult. We’re lucky it is only a small space really.’
‘You don’t think it’s too small do you?’ An edge of alarm began to flicker in the tone of Beth’s voice.
‘Come and sit down.’ Patting the seat next to her, Abi said, ‘Look, Beth, it is a great space. If it was any bigger we wouldn’t be able to heat it properly in the winter, plus, the less established artists, who are the ones we’re really targeting after all, you know, those who don’t have their own galleries to exhibit their work, would be too intimidated by not being able to fill their half of the shop.’
‘Thanks, hun. I sometimes think I’d have been better to sell up like the estate agent said in the first place.’
‘Don’t be daft. You’d never have forgiven yourself, especially if someone came along and did turn the place into a nail bar or something! You’d hate seeing this place under someone else’s control.’
‘True.’ Beth pulled Abi’s list towards her and ran an eye down it. ‘How come every time I look at this there is always more on it than there was before?’
‘Because I keep thinking of more stuff we have to do.’ Abi handed the pen over to Beth who’d put her hand out for it.
‘And there’s something else that needs to go on this list.’
Abi frowned. ‘There can’t be!’
Beth wrote in capital letters at the bottom of the page, ‘FIND ABI A HOME.’
‘Oh, that.’ Abi coloured a little. ‘I’ll find somewhere soon. Barbara has said I can stay on at the Cairn for a bit longer as long as I don’t mind staying in a single room. The double I’m in has been booked from tomorrow by a holidaying couple.’
‘I rest my case!’
‘Sorry?’
‘Although the fact that you are referring to the manageress by her first name is great on a friendly-with-the-locals level, it also means you’ve been there too long!’
‘I know, but I can’t –’
A banging on the door downstairs, much to Abi’s relief, cut her off mid-excuse. ‘That must be Max’s friend with the polisher.’ She jumped off her chair and was down the stairs to answer the summons before Beth had the chance to pursue the last item on the list further.
It wasn’t Max’s friend. It was Max.
Trying not to appear as pleased as she felt, Abi said, ‘Hi, Max, you not working today?’
‘Finished a tiling job this morning, and I’m not due at the next place until two o’clock, so I offered Dave to drop this off for you guys. Saves him leaving the farm.’
‘A farm? Why would he need a floor polisher at a farm?’
‘He rents out rooms. Last year he did a barn conversion and it worked out cheaper for him to buy his own machine and then hire it out to others.’ Max carried the machine through to the shop as though it weighed nothing, and plonked it down. ‘Where does Beth want to start with this?’
‘I’m doing it, and I’ll have it in the far corner, please, so I can work backwards.’
‘You’re doing it?’
Abi didn’t miss the look of doubt of Max’s face, ‘Yes, Beth has plenty to be getting on with. We’ve got a shortlist of people to call who we’d like to offer the first few months in the gallery to. We’re hoping a reduced rent will encourage people for the low-season slots.’
Max looked impressed, but still unsure. ‘Sounds great, but are you sure you can handle this? It’s heavy work, and you’re so tiny.’
‘I have done this before, you know.’
‘You have?’ Max looked incredulous.
‘Yes!’ Abi felt oddly put out. She didn’t like the fact that Max obviously thought she was too puny for manual labour. ‘Now, why don’t you go up and see Beth? I’m trying to persuade her to varnish the floor afterwards as well, to make it extra tough. Perhaps she’ll believe that it’s a good idea if she hears it from you.’ Abi unwound the cable and plugged in the machine, and taking the protective goggles that were hanging on a hook above the machine’s handle, snapped them into place. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a floor to polish.’
Turning her back on Max, Abi mentally crossed her fingers. She’d been at university when she’d helped her friend reclaim an oak floor as part of an art installation; she just hoped that she could remember how to use the machine so that she didn’t look a total idiot when she switched it on.
Abi needn’t have worried however, for Max had gone, leaving the space behind her feeling much bigger than it had before. Concentrating on the patch of floor immediately in front of her, which wouldn’t be seen as clearly as the rest, Abi decided to use it as a test area.
Sorry Max had gone, Abi was also glad he wasn’t there to witness her turning the machine on and almost being dragged behind it as it shot forward. Bracing every muscle in her arms and shoulders, Abi let the polisher glide with her assistance, rather than taking her on a random path across the floor. Stoically ignoring the continual jarring of every bone in her body, she consoled herself with dreams of the hot bath that would be waiting for her once she returned to the hotel.
Beth raised her voice over the thump and hum of the polisher downstairs, ‘Do you think she’s OK with that thing? I can’t stop thinking about that episode of Friends, when Monica hires a polisher and it ends up in a disaster!’
‘She said she’d be fine.’
Not missing the tone, Beth asked, ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Nothing at all. Why should anything be the matter?’
‘Max, you sound like a sulky child who’s been told there’s no toffee left on bonfire night. What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing!’
Beth was fairly sure the honest answer to that question would
be ‘Abi’s the matter, but I’m not sure why,’ so she left it alone. ‘Are you sure you can still fit in decorating the shop, Max? Abi and I are quite capable of slapping some emulsion on.’
Max winced. ‘I have no doubt that you are perfectly capable. Although I take exception to the fact that you think that paint should be “slapped” on anywhere! But if Abi says she can paint the walls, then who am I to interfere!’
‘Have you two fallen out?’
‘Of course not.’ Max picked up the list of prices Beth had been working out for the gallery side of things. ‘Are you charging enough?’
Letting the matter of Abi rest for a moment, Beth took her notepad out of Max’s fingers. ‘Initially yes, but I want to fill up the first three months quickly. I’ll charge more for the Christmas slot, and then Abi thinks we should slowly increase prices once the tourist season starts again in the spring.’
‘Abi thinks? What about what you think? This is your shop, after all.’
‘Well, I agree with her. For heaven’s sake, Max, what is the matter with you today?’
‘I told you, I’m fine!’
Beth was about to press the point when Max’s phone began to ring from the depths of his overalls pocket.
‘Oh hello, Mr Abbey … sorry, yes, Stan … is everything alright?’
There was a pause while Max listened, nodding occasionally, before he said, ‘I can come over now if you’d like? I have an hour before my next job. I could trot Sadie down the road and back for you as well if you wanted? … OK, I’ll see you in a minute.’
After he’d hung up, Max headed straight to Beth’s front door. ‘Stan wants to talk to me about the house.’
Beth was puzzled. ‘To you? But why?’
Max ruffled a hand through his hair, ‘Abi didn’t tell you that Stan assumed we were married then?’
‘She said she thought he might have, but she wasn’t sure. Why does he want to speak to just you?’
‘I have no idea, but I’m about to find out.’
Chapter Twenty
Max felt unsettled, and he didn’t like the reason why. He knew he’d minded that Abi hadn’t wanted his help with the polisher. Logically it wasn’t surprising. She was setting up a new life after years of being controlled, it was important to her self-esteem to do things herself. There was no way Abi could have known that he had deliberately arranged his day so he could be the one who dropped off the machine, rather than leave it to Dave to drop it off. Yet Max couldn’t stop the feelings of rejection.
‘Don’t be so stupid, man.’ He muttered under his breath as he swung open the garden gate. ‘Just because you assumed she wouldn’t have a clue how to use it, and you could impress her by teaching her how. Time you stopped making assumptions about Abi Carter.’
The front door of Abbey’s House was already ajar as Max strode up to it. He sped up, ‘Mr Abbey? Stan? Are you alright?’
Stan appeared from a side door, ‘Not to worry, Max, I just opened it up early, as it can take me a while to get to the door these days. I overestimated how fast you’d get here.’
‘As long as you’re OK.’ Max closed the door behind him and followed the old man through into his living room. ‘Are you still up for that trip into Penzance tomorrow? Abi’s looking forward to her first Cornish cream tea in years.’ Max patted his stomach, ‘And so am I, although I don’t really need one!’
The room was cold despite the sunshine outside. At the side of the house, the window was small, and the sunshine hadn’t managed to do more than warm the sill and the inside of the thick curtains. Max couldn’t prevent himself from wondering if Abi would have put a blind there instead.
Easing himself into his armchair, Stan pulled a rug over his knees as Sadie waddled into the room and, with a friendly sniff in Max’s direction, settled herself over her master’s feet.
In front of Stan on a cluttered coffee table sat a pile of very official-looking papers, many of which looked as if they’d been around for a while.
‘Do sit down, Max.’ Stan picked up the top piece of paper, and was about to pass it to Max when he stopped, his head cocked to one side. ‘Are you alright, me’andsome? If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look quite as chipper as you did last time you were here?’
‘I’m fine, thanks, Stan, just concerned about you to be honest. Is everything OK?’
‘Absolutely. And you are sure I’m not interrupting your working day?’
‘Not at all, your call was timely. I’d just dropped off a floor polisher to a friend. She’s doing up the old cobbler’s shop on the corner of the main street.’
Stan smiled. ‘Jack’s old place?’
‘Yes.’ Max wasn’t sure why he was surprised that Stan should have known Beth’s grandfather; after all, Sennen had always been a tiny community, ‘Did you know him, then?’
A chuckling Stan nodded. ‘Oh yes. Jack was a regular Jack-the-Lad when we were young. Sad to think he’s gone now.’ Stan paused, his memory briefly visiting the past, before he added, ‘Not that I saw too much for him in the last few years. I can’t get far under the steam of these pins of mine, and the poor man was bedridden.’
Max shook his head, ‘If only I’d known you guys were pals. Jack’s granddaughter, Beth, is my best friend. I know she’d have got you together somehow.’
‘Little Lizzie? I’ve not seen her since she was a tot.’
Max raised an eyebrow. ‘Does Beth know that she knows you? I mean, when Abi and I told her about this place, she didn’t seem to register it beyond the fact she’d seen it before. But in a place this small that is hardly surprising.’
‘I doubt the lass knows me, me’andsome. I went away for a fair while. Lived up country with my daughter Sally for a decade. I came back here when she upped sticks and moved to Australia five years ago. Took the kiddies and everything.’
Not wanting to prod at the sorrow which was evident in Stan’s voice, Max said, ‘Well, I’m sure Beth would be delighted to meet you. She has big plans for her shop; I think Jack would have been proud of her.’
‘I’m sure he would. He was always so full of Lizzie when she was little,’ Stan sighed, as if having to leave the comfort of his memories was a real effort, ‘and yes, I’d love to meet her. Thank you. Another one for cream tea tomorrow? If that’s still OK with you and the missus, of course?’
‘Of course it is. We’re both really looking forward to it.’ Max was about to add that Abi and he weren’t exactly together, when Stan pushed the piece of paper that had been flapping in his hand towards Max. He looked down at the paper as Stan spoke.
‘As you can see, these are the original deeds for the house.’
‘Crumbs, Abi would love to see these.’ Max traced the looping writing with his eyes. ‘So how far back does this place date?’
‘Early nineteenth century, although it’s obviously been adapted since then. If you have a good hunt around the house, you can spot all the different decades of building in action.’
Max smiled. ‘So was it built for the local tin miners?’
‘Yes. If you read the tiny lettering, it says it was an associated building. The whole row was. And then if you read this one,’ Stan passed over another document, ‘it tells you when the row of houses was bought from the landlord and sold off to individuals.’
‘Was that when this house and its neighbour were knocked into one?’
‘No, that was a couple of years later.’ Stan passed over a third paper. ‘My great-grandfather did that. He owned three of the houses, these two and the one next door. He sold the third, and had these two knocked together.’
Max scanned it, noting that this paper was much more recent, less faded and produced on what must have been an ancient typewriter. ‘Fascinating. Thanks, Stan, this is great! Can you bring them on Saturday? Abi would love to see these. I’d call her now to have a look,’ Max paused, ‘but she’s in the middle of polishing a floor.’
‘You said that like it was a bad thing.’
‘Oh, I’m just old-fashioned I guess. Abi is such a little thing. I don’t like to think of her being dragged around a floor by a machine!’
Stan chuckled again, ‘And there I was thinking I was the old ’un. Women do stuff, me’andsome. They do all the stuff we used to do. Can’t say I like it meself, but it’s how it is, and Abi seemed a very capable young lass to me.’
‘She is, isn’t she?’ Max heaved a sigh, ‘Sometimes I think I was born a couple of generations too late.’
Stan smiled as Sadie adjusted her position over his feet so that she could give Max a look of companionship that was almost human. ‘I know the feeling! Anyway, the reason I dragged you from your work is to tell you my news, and I wanted to do that without Abi being here.’
After Stan had finished talking Max sat very quietly before saying, ‘Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, neither Abi nor I would want to think this was our doing.’
‘Not at all. It’s been on my mind for a year or more, your visit was merely the push I needed to get me to act.’
‘How about I see if Abi is free this evening? We could bring fish and chips. But only if you’re sure?’
‘If we can eat them out of the paper then you’re on. I haven’t had them like that for years!’
Max laughed. Every now and then Stan was more like a kid than an eighty-eight-year-old pensioner, such was his enthusiasm for the little things in life. ‘You have a deal. Oh, and Stan … please do something for me. Think hard this afternoon. I won’t tell Abi what you’ve said, that way if you change your mind then no harm will have been done. OK?’
‘OK, me’andsome. You have got yourself a deal.’
Abi reclined luxuriously in Beth’s bathtub. There wasn’t an inch of her that didn’t ache, and she was unbelievably grubby. On the plus side, after three hours of being buffeted about the room by the polisher, the floor of the shop had been sanded and polished to within an inch of its life. Beth had been so impressed that she’d driven straight to the nearest hardware store, risked incurring Max’s wrath by buying some floor varnish without his recommendation, and had already started applying the first coat.
