Pastures New

by Margaret Thornton

  Walter did not say that Cissie had been pestering him and trying to persuade him that they could afford it. Cissie had tried not to be envious of her friend, who lived in the more salubrious suburb of Queensbury, but she could not help feeling, deep down, somewhat peeved that Val had always been a step or two higher on the social ladder.

  They had little difficulty in finding a buyer for their rather more modest house. Very soon plans were being made for their move to the Walkers’ residence, which was to coincide with Val and Sam’s move to Harrogate.

  Cissie felt pleased with herself and a trifle smug. She had started off as a mill girl and had then been promoted to the burling and mending room, but had still been regarded as a mill girl. Now, her husband was shortly to become one of the bosses at Walker’s mill – or so she saw it – and they would live in the affluent district of Queensbury.

  SEVENTEEN

  ‘Ian says he’d like to come and work for us again this summer,’ said Janice to her husband. It was an evening in July and she had phoned her brother, quite expecting him to say that he would be staying in Blackpool and working at one of the promenade hotels in what would be their busiest time of the year.

  ‘I’m pleased to hear that, but rather surprised,’ said Phil. ‘I thought he had other interests in Blackpool as well as work. He seemed to be getting rather keen on that girl, Alison. Did he say anything about her?’

  ‘I didn’t ask; I didn’t mention her name at all. I just said we would be pleased to have him here if he hadn’t made other plans. I sort of hinted that there might be other attractions for him in Blackpool but he was very cagey about it. ‘Not any more,’ he said, so I didn’t enquire further. I said we’d look forward to seeing him again.’

  ‘And when will that be?’

  ‘The end of July, soon after he finishes at college. Just in time for the August bank holiday weekend. Not that that will make much difference to our business here; in fact, a lot of the local people may be away on holiday.’

  The clientele consisted mainly of local people, many of whom had come out of curiosity to see how Grundy’s was faring with its new names. And, having come once, they came again and told their friends how much they liked the changes that had been made. The menu at the present time consisted of a good selection of light, summery meals that no longer needed to be ordered in advance. The service was prompt and friendly, as it had always been, and there was a happy ambience to the place.

  Although some local people would be away on holiday, there were others from different parts of the country who visited Harrogate as a holiday resort. It had once been a famous spa town but was still popular for its pleasant surroundings, its nearness to the Yorkshire Dales, the moors and the ancient city of York. Changing Seasons was well advertised and visitors to the town, especially those staying at guest houses that provided only bed and breakfast, found it an ideal place for an evening meal. The food was appetizing and, most importantly, not too expensive. Phil had decided at the outset to charge prices that were within the budget of most people and would encourage them to come again.

  The morning following Ian’s phone call, Sophie called at Grundy’s just before the Coffee Pot was due to open for its early customers. Janice was pleased to see her and rather hoped that she might be offering her services for the month of August. She was not disappointed.

  ‘I was wondering if I could come and help out here again?’ she asked. ‘I shall understand if you’re fully staffed, but I enjoy working here. That’s not the only reason I’ve come, though. I wanted to see you and to wish you well with your new venture. Mum told me you’re doing splendidly. She and Graham have had an evening meal here and she sometimes pops in for coffee.’

  ‘Yes, so she does,’ said Janice, ‘and of course, we’d be delighted if you can come and work for us again. We have a few part-time students from the school, like you used to be, but there’s certainly room for one more, especially somebody who knows the ropes like you do.’

  Janice hesitated before she went on to say, ‘Ian will be working here as well. I phoned him last night and he said he’d be pleased to come again. Does that make any difference to your plans?’

  ‘No, why should it?’ said Sophie. ‘Ian and I parted on friendly terms and I’ll be pleased to see him again. Actually … I’m no longer seeing the young man I was friendly with at college, but that doesn’t really matter. I know Ian has a girlfriend in Blackpool but there’s no reason why we can’t work together amicably. He’ll be in the kitchen most of the time, won’t he, and working mainly in the evenings?’

  ‘Phil hasn’t decided yet exactly what he wants Ian to do.’ Janice didn’t say that there was no longer a girlfriend. Ian hadn’t said that in so many words, but that was what she had surmised from his caginess. Janice thought it best to keep out if it and let Ian and Sophie sort it out for themselves.

  ‘So, when would you like to start, Sophie?’ she asked. ‘You can come as soon as you like but I expect you’ll want some time at home first?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. I need a little time to recuperate after my teaching practice and exams. And I want to spend some time with Mum; we like to go shopping together. We thought we’d go to York for a day, as though we’re tourists.’ She laughed. ‘It’s been ages since either of us was there and there’s so much to see. You don’t really appreciate places as you should, do you, when they’re almost on your doorstep?’

  ‘That’s true,’ agreed Janice. ‘Of course, Yorkshire was all new to me till I married Phil, and I was surprised at the variety of the scenery: the dales and the moors, and the quaint villages and seaside towns. We don’t have much time now, though, to go touring around.’

  ‘And I’ve some school friends I want to catch up with,’ Sophie went on. ‘Gail and Dawn are at different colleges and Jean’s doing a nursing course. We’ll all get together and have a natter. So … what about a fortnight from now? Would that be OK?’

  ‘That’s fine, Sophie. And would it be for about six weeks or so?’

  ‘Yes, thereabouts; maybe a little longer if you still need me. We don’t go back until nearly the end of September.’

  ‘And that will be your last year, will it?’

  ‘Oh, no, it’s a three-year course now. It used to be two but they changed it in nineteen-sixty, so I just missed out on that. It seems a long time but no doubt it will pass quickly – we’re kept very busy. Ian’s course is two years, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes; he has one more year to do but Phil thinks he’s pretty competent already.’

  ‘Well, he learnt a lot from you and Phil, didn’t he?’

  ‘I suppose he did; particularly from Phil, of course. That was what made him decide he would like to be a chef. He had never considered it until he started seeing Phil at work.’

  ‘I’d better leave you to get on now,’ said Sophie, glancing at her watch. ‘It’s getting on for opening time.’

  ‘Yes, so it is, but I doubt there’ll be a rush just yet, especially on a Monday morning. So shall we say a fortnight today? We’ll sort out your hours together, you and me. I know you won’t want to work full time.’

  ‘Great,’ said Sophie. ‘Thanks ever so much, Janice. I’ll look forward to it. Bye for now …’

  Sophie was settled into her routine at Grundy’s by the time Ian arrived. He would be employed mainly in the Changing Seasons restaurant, assisting with the preparation of the meals and then waiting at the tables.

  Sophie was simply a waitress, helping in the Coffee Pot, which was open for morning coffee, snack lunches and afternoon tea. All in all, it was a busy establishment, but with ample staff so that no one was overworked.

  Ian and Sophie met again when he arrived on a Friday afternoon near the end of July. Phil had met him at the station following his rail journey from Blackpool. The cafe was closing following the afternoon tea session, and Sophie was just removing her apron before walking back home.

  ‘Hello, Sophie.’

  ‘Hello, Ian …�
�� Their greeting was a little restrained, neither of them making a move towards the other.

  ‘Good journey?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, not bad. Changed at Leeds and the station there was crowded. Holiday time, of course. I had to stand part of the way on the first train. Anyway … how are you?’

  ‘Very well, thanks. Just recovering after a busy term, as no doubt you are.’

  They looked at one another uncertainly; it was Sophie who broke the ice. Janice had tactfully left the room, leaving them on their own.

  ‘Look, Ian … We’ll be seeing one another here from time to time. It’s unavoidable and, anyway, I don’t want to avoid you. I know you’ve got a girlfriend in Blackpool but we decided, didn’t we, that we could still be friends?’

  ‘I haven’t, not now,’ said Ian briefly.

  ‘Oh … oh, I see. I’m sorry to hear that.’ Although Sophie was not sorry at all.

  ‘Don’t be. I’m not! What about you? Are you still friendly with the fellow you met at college?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, we called it a day. At least … I did.’

  ‘Oh, I see …’ They were still regarding one another intently, then Sophie laughed and so did Ian.

  ‘This is daft, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Shall we get together and have a chat? That is, if you’d like to. Just as friends, I mean?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I’d like that. I’ll walk back home with you now, shall I?’

  ‘No, you’ve only just arrived. You must be weary after your journey, and you’ll want to unpack and have a chat with Janice and Phil. I’ll be busy tomorrow; Saturdays are always busy here.’

  ‘What about Sunday then?’ suggested Ian. ‘We could go for a stroll on Sunday afternoon, perhaps?’

  Grundy’s were still keeping to their policy of closing on a Sunday. Gradually, more and more places were opening on what used to be called the Sabbath Day. Times were changing, and so was the outlook of many people regarding Sundays. Some still adhered to the religious principle of not working on a Sunday. Janice and Phil had decided to close because Sunday was their only free day; a day in which they could spend precious time with their little daughter, or visit Phil’s parents, or just enjoy one another’s company.

  Phil and Ian discussed Ian’s timetable for the coming weeks over the next two days, a flexible one according to whether the restaurant was busy or not.

  ‘And you will want some evenings off,’ said Phil, ‘if you want to go out, to the cinema or … wherever.’

  Phil did not mention Sophie, although he had heard from Janice that both the teenagers appeared to be ‘fancy free’ again.

  Ian didn’t mention her either. He nodded and gave a wry grin. ‘We’ll have to see how it goes … How is Changing Seasons going on? You’ve been open for about seven or eight weeks now, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ replied Phil. ‘It’s early days and we can’t grumble. As a matter of fact, we’re quite pleased, but we can’t afford to be complacent. Some folk will have come to give us a try because it’s somewhere new, but it’s encouraging when we see familiar faces appearing again. Our regulars have been faithful to us and they like being able to choose from the menu when they arrive and not have to book the meal in advance.’

  ‘Do you find there’s a lot of wastage with the new system?’

  ‘No, it’s working out quite well. We don’t keep a huge amount in stock, especially the perishable items like fruit and veg. We have a good supplier who comes regularly. We still take bookings in advance, as we did before, if it’s for a special occasion, say a birthday or anniversary, and then we do like them to choose the menu. There hasn’t been an evening so far when we haven’t had any customers. Sometimes there may be only six or eight; other times, especially Fridays and Saturdays, we might be almost full. They don’t all come at once, of course. We’re open from seven o’clock and we take the last orders at eight thirty. We’re usually finished by half past ten.’

  ‘And are there just you and Toby doing the cooking and preparation? You must be working flat out.’

  ‘We have an assistant now, Jason. He’s sixteen and just left school. He’s not had any experience or training but he’s keen to learn, so I suggested he might go to college a couple of days a week. At the moment he’s preparing the veg and clearing up; doing the donkey work, I suppose, but he seems to like the environment. And we’ll have you starting on Monday; that will make things easier.’

  ‘I hope so,’ said Ian. ‘I want to earn my keep.’

  ‘Don’t worry; I shall make sure you do that!’ said Phil, grinning at him. ‘And then there’s the lunchtime snacks. You could help out there if needed, but we’re never too busy midday. We have a couple of part-time women who help out there. So, all in all, I believe we’re coping pretty well.’

  Ian phoned Sophie and they agreed to meet and go for a walk on Sunday afternoon.

  ‘I’ll meet you outside Grundy’s at two o’clock,’ she said. ‘There’s no need for you to come out of your way to meet me; it’s only a few minutes’ walk.’

  She arrived almost on the dot as Ian was coming out of the door. They both smiled as though they were very pleased to see one another again. Ian felt happiness bubbling up inside him and realized how much he had missed her. For a while, he had been contented with Alison; at least, he had convinced himself that he was growing fond of her and that they were good together, until things started to go wrong.

  He stole a sideways glance at Sophie as they strolled along the pathway through the Stray, thinking what an attractive girl she was – not only pretty but with a lovely personality as well. She had a freshness and an honesty about her which was very appealing, and he had always known that he could trust her. She was not what you would call worldly-wise but neither was she naive.

  She and Alison were very different, both in looks and in personality. Ian had felt from the start, deep down, that he could not entirely trust Alison, and this had proved to be so. She had appeared mature and sophisticated but that was largely a veneer. Underneath, she was, in fact, insecure and hid behind the facade of a devil-may-care attitude.

  Sophie looked most attractive today in a bright pink dress with polka dot spots which Ian thought was now called a shift dress. Her dark hair curled gently around her face. She wore very little make-up apart from a touch of coral lipstick, and she sported a healthy tan.

  She glanced back at Ian and smiled. ‘Penny for them,’ she said, ‘or have I got a smut on my nose?’

  ‘No … sorry,’ he said. ‘I was just thinking that you’ve caught the sun. You’re very brown, but nicely so. You look … very nice.’

  ‘We made the most of the sun the last week of term when exams had finished. We played quite a lot of tennis and I’ve been playing with my old school friends since I came home. I’ve not been sitting out in it; I was never one for lounging in the sun.’

  ‘Yes, I remember that you played tennis. You told me that you were in the school team.’

  ‘The second team; I was only a reserve for the first team.’

  ‘Very good, though. Tennis is a sport I never learnt. We played cricket at school, which was OK, but I had no experience of tennis. It was football, of course, that was my passion, although we had to play rugby at school.’

  ‘Yes, I know you were a football fanatic. You still are, I suppose?’

  ‘Yes, I have a kick around with the mates I had at school, when we can get together. There’s no time for sports, though, at the catering college. They don’t go in for that sort of thing.’

  ‘I should imagine it’s jolly hard work in this weather, working in a red-hot kitchen?’

  ‘You get used to it; you have to if you intend to be a chef. But it’s good to feel the warmth of the sun for a change after working at a boiling hot range.’

  They were quiet for a few moments, then Ian plucked up courage to ask what he wanted to know.

  ‘So … it’s all over, is it, with you and … whoever he was, at
college?’

  ‘He was called Patrick … Yes, it’s all over. He’s left now anyway, because he was a year above me, but I doubt that it would have continued after he left. I decided that he was too much for me, if you know what I mean?’ She looked at him keenly, raising her eyebrows.

  He nodded. ‘Yes, I think I do,’ he replied.

  ‘I’ve another two years to do at college,’ said Sophie, ‘and I want to get to the end of my course without having to leave under a cloud. Actually, that was what happened to a girl who was in the same hall as me, and on the same course as well, so we’d become quite friendly. We knew she had a boyfriend – not one of the college chaps; he was in the RAF, stationed quite nearby, and she went off at the weekends to meet him. Anyway Pamela – that was her name – didn’t come back at the end of the second term, after the Easter break. Her mother wrote a letter to the college principle saying that Pamela was getting married and she wouldn’t be returning to college. The news trickled round on the grapevine, of course, and we all guessed the reason. Then Pamela wrote to me and said that she was three months’ pregnant and they were getting married. She said her parents were quite complacent about it because they knew it was serious between her and Victor. I can’t understand why she started the course at all. And I knew that if it happened to me my mother would certainly not be complacent about it! Anyway, I shall make sure that it doesn’t.’

  ‘So I take it that this … Patrick wanted rather more than you were prepared for?’

  ‘A lot more! The girls and the men do get friendly; it’s inevitable at a co-ed college. We have separate halls of residence, at either side of the campus, as far away as possible, and it’s a strict rule that never the twain shall meet, except for dances and social occasions. But there are ways of getting round this, as you can imagine. I’ve heard of girls who’ve been smuggled into the men’s hostels and vice versa. Goodness knows why none of them have been caught, at least not so far.’

  ‘And I suppose this Patrick wanted you to …?’