Pastures New

by Margaret Thornton

  They had all had a sandwich lunch before setting off and had arrived in Harrogate soon after two o’clock.

  ‘Maybe we could have something later,’ suggested Val. ‘We won’t want much, though. We don’t want to spoil our appetites for the evening meal. I know Phil and Janice will be putting on something quite special. Anyway, like Walter said, Betty’s is rather pricey and I’m sure that the cakes that Janice makes are just as good.’

  ‘I tell you what,’ said Sam, ‘let’s go our separate ways. We’ll probably want to look at different things and we don’t want to keep one another waiting. We’ll go and see the Valley Gardens, shall we, Val? Then we can walk back to the town later.’

  ‘Suits me fine,’ said Val. She knew that a little of Cissie went a long way with Sam, even though he had grown quite fond of his wife’s oldest friend since their marriage. Cissie had chattered almost incessantly on the journey from Halifax while Sam was trying to concentrate on his driving.

  ‘Happen we’ll come across you later then,’ said Cissie. ‘I want to go and look at the shops. Is that OK, Walter?’

  ‘I suppose it will have to be,’ said Walter, with a look at his wife that was half smile, half frown. ‘If we don’t meet up later we’ll see you back at the hotel, shall we?’

  ‘Yes, we’ll have to leave time to get dressed up for the “do” tonight,’ said Cissie. ‘See you later, you two.’

  She waved cheerily as she and Walter headed for the shops, and Val and Sam walked down the steep road that led down to the valley.

  ‘Peace at last!’ said Sam. ‘She can’t half talk.’

  ‘She’s excited,’ said Val. ‘It’s a nice change for Cissie to go out for the evening to what she calls a “posh do”. Although I know it will be quite informal and friendly.’

  The Valley Gardens in their early summer flowering were a peaceful haven away from the bustle of the town. The trees still showed the bright green hues of springtime before turning to the darker shades they wore in late summer. The rose bushes were still in bud, but the flower beds and borders were bright with begonias and wallflowers, tall lupins and yellow and orange marigolds.

  The did a circuit of the gardens, then, despite Val’s warning about spoiling their appetites, stopped for tea, with just a small piece of shortbread, at the outdoor cafe. Then they strolled through the colonnades, where wisteria and vines climbed up the trelliswork and along the veranda overhead, the path leading them back to the main gate and the town.

  It was a steep climb back to the shopping area but, living in Halifax, they were used to the hilly terrain of most Yorkshire towns. Val enjoyed the elegant shops of Harrogate, which were rather grander than those in their home town, just as much as Cissie did.

  ‘Now, what would you like?’ said Sam. ‘I think you deserve a treat.’

  ‘But it’s not my birthday,’ she replied, ‘and there’s nothing I need, not really.’

  ‘Well, that doesn’t matter, does it? Don’t refuse when I’m feeling generous. It might not last.’

  ‘You spoil me, Sam,’ she replied, squeezing his arm. ‘Actually … it would be nice to have a little clutch bag to go with the dress I’m wearing tonight. I’ve brought this shoulder bag but it’s rather clumsy.’

  Her dress was a simple shift dress in a silky rayon material, the new shorter knee length in a deep raspberry pink. The fashions were changing and girls no longer wore the full skirted summer dresses of a few years ago.

  They went to a well-known department store, which was a delight to Val as there was not a branch in their home town. It was impossible to match the pink shade, so she chose a small, dainty-looking bag in soft fawn suede with a golden clasp and chain strap. It would go well with her sandal-type shoes that were a similar colour.

  Val was pleased with their purchases and tried to persuade Sam to buy something for himself: a colourful tie or a new shirt, a striped one rather than the coloured ones he usually wore. For a young man – well, youngish – he was very conservative in his choice of clothing.

  He shrugged. ‘It’s as you say, Val; I don’t really need anything so why spend the money?’ Like most Yorkshire men, he had that innate thriftiness, but could be generous when that way inclined.

  They had wandered to the outskirts of the town. ‘Oh, look, there’s a sports shop,’ he said, pointing across the road. ‘Come to think of it, I could do with some more golf balls.’

  ‘I’m not surprised at the rate you lose them,’ said Val with a smile. As they crossed the road, she noticed the sign in the window. ‘Look, Sam; there’s a closing-down sale. You’d better stock up with them. Better to lose half-price ones, don’t you think?’

  He laughed. ‘Oh, come on! I don’t lose all that many. Anyway, it’s an occupational hazard.’

  They stopped by the window. The sign above read Bateson’s Sports Emporium, established 1910. There was a wide variety of goods in the window, all at reduced prices, covering a range of sports. Clothing for golfers, hikers, cricketers, tennis players; golf clubs, cricket bats, tennis racquets and, of course, golf balls of the make that Sam used, at half price.

  Sam stood still, staring at the display. ‘I wonder why they’re closing down?’ he said thoughtfully. ‘And why sell the stock? I would have thought …’

  ‘What, Sam?’ asked Val. ‘What are you thinking?’ Although she did have an idea what it might be.

  ‘Well, it’s usual to sell a business as a going concern, stock and all, and the goodwill.’

  ‘I’m sure they have their reasons. I know what you’re thinking, Sam. Let’s go in and you can make some tentative enquiries.’

  ‘Shall we?’ She could see the light of optimism and enthusiasm in his eyes. ‘It might be just what we were looking for, Colin and me, although we haven’t really looked anywhere yet. It doesn’t say the business is for sale, though …’

  ‘Well, you won’t know until you ask. Come on, let’s go in.’

  Sam pushed open the door which gave a jingle as they entered. It was a roomy shop with two long counters at either side and stands in the middle with the display of goods.

  A man was being served at one of the counters. A middle-aged man at the other one looked across, saying politely, ‘Good afternoon, sir, madam. How can I help you?’

  Sam started by saying that he wanted a dozen golf balls.

  ‘A good price, sir,’ said the salesman. ‘They’re going very quickly. We haven’t many left now.’

  He seemed a friendly, approachable man, formally dressed in a dark suit with a white shirt and a tie. Sam guessed that he might be the owner.

  ‘I hope you won’t mind me asking,’ Sam went on, ‘but I was wondering … are you by any chance selling the business or just the stock? I’m not just being nosey. A friend and I are looking for a business such as this, and it seems too good an opportunity to miss, that is … if you’re thinking of selling?’

  ‘We are but it’s not yet with an estate agent,’ the man replied. ‘It was my father’s idea to sell the stock. He thought it might be better to sell an empty shop, then it could be used however the buyer wanted. I’m Thomas Bateson, by the way.’ He shook hands with Sam, then with Val.

  ‘How do you do?’ replied Sam. ‘I’m Sam Walker and this is my wife, Valerie. We’re from Halifax. My father owns Walker’s mill.’ He decided it would do no harm to reveal his credentials. ‘We’re here for the weekend, visiting friends.’

  ‘Well, I’m certainly very pleased to meet you, Mr Walker … Do sit down, Mrs Walker.’ There was a chair next to the counter. ‘It seems to me that we might be able to do a business deal. This is a family business, run jointly by my father and myself.’

  He went on to explain that his father, William, was now nearly eighty and thought it was time he retired. He had been coming into the shop most days until recently, but had finally decided that enough was enough. He and his wife were still active and wanted to spend their remaining years in a leisurely fashion. The business had been started by W
illiam’s father and handed down from father to son.

  ‘I’m fifty-five now,’ said Thomas, ‘and my wife and I have decided to go and live in Devon where our only daughter and family live. We’ve done well out of this place but family comes first. We might even persuade my parents to join us down there … But it seems to me that you and I, and Father, of course, might be able to do a deal.’

  Sam shook his head, not in negation but rather in bewilderment. ‘This is all happening so suddenly,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think for one minute that it might be so simple. Of course, I would have to talk it over with my friend. We had only recently started to think about making a change of employment. Colin feels that he wants to do something more interesting than working for an insurance firm. And, as I said, I’m a manager at the mill along with my father and elder brother. I think we all realize that one of us is expendable in the present climate but Father would never want to suggest it. So I need to tell him what’s in my mind, as well as seeing how Colin feels about it.’

  ‘And my father needs to be put in the picture,’ said Thomas Bateson. ‘We would need a solicitor, of course, but we should be able to do a private deal, if we’re all agreed, and manage without an agent.’

  ‘We’ll leave it at that then, shall we?’ said Sam. He turned to Val. ‘How do you feel about it, love?’ he asked. ‘Do you think we should go ahead if everyone is agreeable?’

  ‘It’s up to you, Sam,’ she replied, ‘but if it’s what you want, then so do I. You go for it.’

  The two men exchanged addresses and telephone numbers, shook hands and promised to be in touch as soon as the other people concerned had been contacted.

  ‘My head’s in a whirl,’ said Sam as they walked back to their hotel. ‘It seems too good to be true.’

  ‘Let’s not count our chickens,’ said Val, ‘but I have a feeling it might well work out right for us.’

  ‘Not a word to anyone yet, though,’ said Sam.

  But, later that evening, he could not resist telling Janice and Phil. ‘It’s all very hush hush at the moment. I have to talk it over with Colin and my father. And then Thomas Bateson will set the wheels in motion, providing his father agrees.’

  ‘So you’ll be coming to live in Harrogate,’ said Janice. ‘How lovely! Is there living accommodation over the shop?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Sam. ‘If there is, they don’t live there and neither would we. Yes, we’ll be looking for a house if all goes according to plan. But not a word to anyone; you understand, don’t you? And we won’t be telling Walter and Cissie – not just yet.’

  ‘We understand,’ said Phil. ‘Our lips are sealed.’

  Cissie and Walter moved across to join them at that moment. The conversation centred mainly around the children, about school and playgroup and how the younger girls, Lucy and Sarah, were progressing with their walking and talking. They agreed to meet the following morning so that the five children could play together before the Walker and Clarkson families drove back home.

  Two by two, the guests drifted away, all of them saying what a lovely occasion it had been and wishing Janice and Phil every success in the coming months.

  ‘And now it’s up to us,’ said Phil when the last guests had departed. ‘I know it’s going to be a great success. You and me, we’re a great team, Mrs Grundy.’

  SIXTEEN

  ‘Are you absolutely sure that this is what you want to do?’ said Joshua Walker.

  Sam had told him as soon as they arrived at the mill on Monday morning about his decision to leave Walker’s mill and go into partnership within Colin Wyatt.

  ‘Very sure, Father,’ said Sam. ‘I went to see Colin yesterday and he is just as keen as I am. But it all depends on what Mr Bateson thinks about it; if he’s willing to negotiate with us, and with a solicitor, of course.’

  ‘But sports equipment,’ said Joshua, looking bewildered, ‘and the retail trade? You’ve no experience of anything like that.’

  ‘I know about sales techniques; we do a lot of that here; and Colin is used to dealing with money matters. We’re both keen sportsmen – golfing in particular – so it’ll be good to be involved in something we both enjoy.’

  ‘Aye, I know you’re a keen golfer – summat I never fancied taking up myself. But this is work, lad, not play. And … there was no need for you to be so hasty, you know. I’d never even thought of you or Jonathan leaving. We’re still ticking over quite nicely. I know the boom days are probably over; it’s the same for all t’mill owners round here, but I reckon we’ll be here for a good while yet. There’s no substitute for proper wool, whatever they say about their fancy nylons and terylenes and all that stuff.’

  ‘But it will help not to have to pay my salary, won’t it? There’s no need for three bosses. You and Jonathan can cope very well without me, and there’s Walter Clarkson, of course. Walter’s job is safe, isn’t it, Father?’

  ‘Oh aye, young Walter’s shaping up very nicely. And when – if – you go we can give him more responsibility and put his wages up a bit. But we’ll miss you, there’s no doubt about that. You’ll be going to live in Harrogate, I suppose?’

  ‘Well, yes, of course. But it’s not far, only thirty miles or so. It’ll be nice for you and Mother to drive over on a Sunday. That’s all in the future, but not too far ahead, I hope. Colin and I will be going to Harrogate later this week to discuss matters further. By the way, Father, not a word to anyone else yet, apart from Jonathan and Mother, of course. We want to be certain it’s all going ahead before we spread the news around.’

  It all went according to plan, so smoothly and easily that Sam and Colin were amazed to soon find themselves co-owners of a business that was far removed from anything they had done before. A price agreeable to both sides had been agreed upon. Joshua was generous to his son, giving him a lump sum, a goodly share of the profits that the mill had made, which amounted to what would have been his salary for the following year.

  Colin also received a good handout from his firm. Both men had been thrifty over the years and were able to take on the business with not too much of an overdraft.

  The Batesons agreed to close the store immediately, the remaining stock to be sold at the reduced price when the shop reopened. New stock would need to be ordered and Thomas introduced them to the wholesalers they had used. Sam and Colin, however, intended to make certain changes, concentrating, maybe, on fewer sports with a different range of goods.

  A notice appeared in the window of the store. Closed for business. Reopening shortly under new management. They decided, tentatively, on early August, which would give them a couple of months to ensure that everything was ready.

  And, of course, time to find new homes in Harrogate. Val and Sam tried, whenever possible, to leave the children behind, usually with Val’s parents, to give them a chance to concentrate more fully on the task in hand.

  The news gradually became known, via the grapevine, that Sam and Val were leaving for pastures new and that Sam would no longer be working for the family firm. Val had made a point of telling Cissie before she heard from someone else. As Val had expected, her friend was sorry and rather disgruntled at the news. They had been friends for such a long time and, although they didn’t see one another quite as often now, Val’s departure would leave a big gap in her life.

  ‘I won’t half miss you,’ she moaned. ‘Who will I be able to tell my troubles to? You’ve always been there to listen to me.’

  ‘Well, we’ll be able to phone one another,’ said Val, ‘but I’m hoping you won’t have any troubles. You’re not in trouble now, are you?’

  ‘No, of course not, but you never know. And you’ll be near to Janice, won’t you, not to me? Do you want to get a house round there, near to the Stray? I wish Walter and me could move somewhere a bit posher. I’d like a bigger garden and more room for the kids to play in.’

  Cissie was somewhat mollified, however, when Joshua Walker spoke to Walter, telling him that when Sam had gon
e he intended to give him more responsibility. Sam had been in charge of personnel, dealing with any complaints that might arise with the workforce. These, fortunately, were very few. Joshua felt that Walter could be relied on to be as diplomatic as Sam had been. The young man had changed since his marriage to Cissie, becoming more likable and less aloof in his manner.

  After a couple of weekends of house hunting, Val and Sam found one that they both thought would be ideal. The house was in an avenue close to the Stray and, therefore, quite close to Janice and Phil. In many respects, it was similar to the three-bedroomed semi they were leaving. They needed to sell their own house, however, before anything could be settled with the new property. They had had a few enquiries and a few couples had viewed the house, but there was no deal so far.

  On the following Monday morning, Walter approached Sam while they were at work. ‘Is your house still for sale,’ he asked, ‘or have you found a buyer?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid we haven’t,’ Sam replied. ‘There’s been a few enquiries but no takers. We can’t understand it; it’s what the estate agents call a “desirable residence”. Why? Do you know someone who might be interested?’

  ‘Yes, I do. It’s me. That is to say, it’s Cissie and me.’

  Sam was surprised but tried not to show his feelings. After all, why shouldn’t Walter be interested? He suspected, though, that Cissie might have had a lot to do with it.

  ‘We’d like more room,’ Walter went on. ‘We’re rather cramped now the kids are getting older and I’ve decided we’re in a position to make you an offer. Thanks to your father, of course. The extra pay will make all the difference, and I’ve been careful with my brass over the years. So … what do you think?’

  ‘I think that’s great,’ said Sam. He didn’t want to embarrass or patronize Walter by asking if he was sure he could afford it. He knew that Walter was astute and would have done his sums. ‘You’ll need to see our estate agent, and I’m sure that, together, we’ll be able to come to an agreement. Good for you, Walter! Val will be pleased when I tell her.’