Needles and Pearls

by Gil McNeil

  ‘So you didn’t have everything neatly folded in drawers then?’

  ‘I’d made a few things; you made most of it in those days. But no, I wasn’t exactly ready, pet. So I suppose we know who you take after.’

  I’m woken by someone knocking on the front door at a quarter to six in the bloody morning. Christ. The postman’s not usually this early, and the milkman doesn’t knock. Maybe it’s another parcel from Vin and Lou by some special wake-you-up-at-the-crack-of-dawn delivery service.

  It’s Graham in his fireman’s uniform, holding a yellow plastic helmet in his hands, looking exhausted.

  ‘I’m sorry, love, but there’s been a fire.’

  ‘What?’

  I turn to look back into the hall, a surge of adrenalin hitting me as I head for the stairs to get the boys. A fire. How could I have missed the house being on fire? Christ. I’ve got to get the boys.

  ‘No, sorry, not here, love, at the shop, I should have said. You’d better come and see.’

  ‘A fire? At the shop?’

  ‘You idiot, Graham – you’ve half terrified her. Get out of the way. It’s only the shop, love, it’s not that bad. Well, it is quite bad, but try not to panic. Graham will show you, and we’ve called your gran so I expect she’ll be here any minute.’

  I hadn’t noticed Tina standing behind Graham, with Travis looking half-asleep with his anorak hood up, wearing his Batman slippers. She’s got her hair in giant foam curlers; I always wondered how she got it so curly.

  ‘Come in, I should probably… ‘

  Actually, I don’t know what I should probably be doing.

  Tina puts her arm round me. I’m having flashbacks to the policeman standing on the doorstep at our old house telling me about Nick’s crash. Oh God.

  ‘Let’s get the kettle on. You sit down; it’ll be fine. Nobody’s hurt and that’s all that matters. Travis, would you like to watch telly, very quiet, mind?’

  He nods.

  ‘Graham, sort him out with some cartoons, would you? Nice cup of tea, that’s what we need.’

  The boys are still asleep when I check on them as I’m getting dressed. I must remember to test the smoke alarm on the upstairs landing; the one in the kitchen is always going off when I make toast, but I haven’t checked the one on the upstairs landing for ages.

  ‘How bad is it?’

  Tina pours me a cup of tea and looks at Graham.

  ‘It’s just the top floor really. The roofs gone in a couple of places, but downstairs is fine.’

  God, I’ve just thought, I bet it was the fireplace. We had the fire on last night for the Stitch and Bitch group and I was so busy getting all the baby things back into the car I must have forgotten to put the fireguard across properly.

  ‘Mum’s shop has the most damage, especially her storeroom. I’ve been telling her for ages to get that wiring sorted – we should have done it for her. Four grown-up sons and one of them in the fire service and not one of us got round to doing it. She’s ever so upset.’

  ‘Are you sure it was wiring, Graham? It might have been the fireplace in our shop, you know. I usually put the guard up but maybe I forgot last night.’

  ‘No love. It started above Mum’s shop. This is unofficial, of course, there’ll be a report, but I can tell you now, it was definitely electrical. When your gran gets here I’ll walk round with you and show you, but it could be worse, honestly, you’ll see.’

  Tina tuts.

  ‘Apart from the water.’

  ‘Well, yes, Tina, we do have to use water, what with trying to put the fire out.’

  ‘I’m only saying. Why they have to go and make everything soaking wet is beyond me. It does more damage than the fire half the time.’

  ‘I’ll make sure to tell that to the boys. Any bright ideas on how we’re meant to put the fires out, though, with us not using the water?’

  ‘Shut up, Graham.’

  Gran’s wearing her dressing gown when they arrive; she’s dressed, but she’s put her dressing gown on instead of her coat.

  ‘Oh pet, what a thing to happen. We came straight round. How bad is it? Have you seen? We drove round the oneway system so we didn’t see.’

  ‘I don’t know yet, Gran.’

  ‘You go and have a look and come back and tell me. I’ll stay here with the boys. Reg, you go with her. I don’t think I can face it.’

  ‘All right, Mary.’

  Tina stays with Gran, and Reg and I walk down the hill with Graham. As we turn the corner I can see the fire engine, parked in the entrance to the side road.

  Graham’s put his helmet back on.

  ‘Lucky it’s just your two shops really, or it could have been much worse.’

  Reg takes hold of my hand.

  ‘Yes, I suppose it is.’

  There’s a narrow side road between Mrs Davis’s florist’s shop and the rest of the parade; an access road for deliveries. Most of the shops have small back yards; her shop has got one too. In fact the only shop without a back door is ours since we’re right on the corner. The lights from the fire engine are still flashing.

  Stan from the greengrocer’s is standing on the pavement by our window.

  ‘It was me who called them, I’d had pickled onions for my tea and they always play me up, so I woke up around four and that was when I saw the smoke.’

  Reg is looking in through the window.

  ‘Thank heavens you did, Stan. It doesn’t look too bad, you know, love.’

  It looks pretty bad to me: the glass in the door is smashed, and there’s water everywhere.

  Elsie’s standing to one side with Mrs Davis.

  ‘Isn’t it dreadful?’ She’s obviously rather thrilled with the excitement of it all. ‘And I’ve been thinking, we could all have been killed, you know, if it had started while we’d been open. Those stairs would be a death trap.’

  ‘We’d have smelled the smoke and been out long before that, Elsie. There’s a smoke alarm in the kitchen, don’t forget.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘I’ll never forgive myself. I’m so sorry, dear.’ Poor Mrs Davis looks very shocked and cold.

  ‘Please, it was an accident. I’m just relieved it wasn’t my fireplace that started it.’

  Elsie looks annoyed; I think she was hoping for a bit more tension.

  ‘I’ll pay for any damage, of course.’

  ‘Please don’t worry about that now. I’m sure the insurance will cover it.’

  Thank God we’re up to date; Mr Prewitt was only talking about the premiums going up a few months ago, and I remember writing the cheque. And resenting it hugely, since it had gone up so much.

  Graham comes over and puts his arm round his mother.

  ‘Mum, you should go. There’s nothing to do here until we’ve finished. I’ve phoned Pete and he’s on his way over. Why don’t I walk you round home?’

  ‘No, I’m fine here – I want to make sure it’s definitely out.’

  ‘It’s out, Mum. Do you want to go in, Jo? You’ll need to borrow a helmet, but I can take you in if you’d like a closer look.’

  I really don’t. Actually, I’m feeling rather frightened, but I need to see exactly how bad it is.

  ‘Thanks, Graham.’

  It’s much worse than I thought it would be, and strangely better too. Downstairs looks pretty normal, apart from the smell of smoke and wet wool and a few black marks on the walls. There’s water on the floor, but everything else seems fine, and the shelves near the front door look completely untouched. The door to the stairs must have been closed, because as soon as you get past it everything’s black and soaking wet, the floor, the walls, everything. And you can see daylight through the holes in the roof, and the smell is much worse, so thick and acrid you can almost taste it.

  Christ, this is going to take a lot of fixing.

  ‘Next door’s worse, love – lost the floor in places too as well the roof.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Seen enough?’r />
  ‘Yes, thanks.’

  ‘Let’s get you back out in the fresh air then.’

  ‘How bad is it?’

  Elsie’s desperate for an update.

  ‘It’s a mess, but I’m sure we can sort it out.’

  Actually, I’m not, but I’m not telling her that on the pavement, particularly with poor Mrs Davis looking like she’ll burst into tears at any minute.

  ‘Let’s all go back to my house. It’s nearest and Gran’s there and she’ll want to see you, Mrs Davis. Come on, you shouldn’t be standing here.’

  ‘I’m not sure I can face her, not after all these years.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Mum – you didn’t do it on purpose.’

  Graham takes her hand and Reg nods.

  ‘Please come, Pat – Mary will want to see you.’

  We start walking back up the hill but Mrs Davis is still standing looking in our window.

  ‘I never knew you could knit pumpkins.’

  I’d better call Mr Prewitt and get on to the insurance people. And then I should get the boys ready for school. Actually, maybe Reg could take them this morning. I don’t think I can face all the questions.

  Gran’s made bacon sandwiches for everyone, and the boys are watching cartoons with Travis.

  We’re sitting round the kitchen table, and everyone’s gone quiet as Mrs Davis puts her cup down.

  ‘Well, that’s it for me, I’ll not re-open. I’ve spent too many years with my hands in buckets of cold water; it plays havoc with your joints, you know – my hands are terrible some nights. No, I’ve had enough. There’s no money in flowers now anyway, not with the supermarkets all doing them and the computers.’

  ‘Don’t rush into anything, Pat.’

  ‘No, Mary, I’ve been thinking about retiring for ages now.’

  Everyone seems to be looking at me. And I realise this is one of those moments where you have to make a decision. I suppose I could claim on the insurance and then decide. But actually, I already know.

  ‘After all your hard work, pet, it’s such a shame.’ Gran’s close to tears now too.

  ‘It’s all right, Gran, honestly, I’ve been wanting to redecorate.’

  Everyone smiles.

  Actually, I think it’s going to take more than a few coats of paint to sort that lot out.

  ‘We’ll be open again before you know it, you’ll see. We’ll tidy up and start again. I’m good at starting again.’

  Elsie blows her nose.

  ‘Of course you will, dear, and I’ll help. We’ll have it sorted out in no time, Mary, probably better than before, what with all the lovely ideas Jo has.’

  Reg stands up and puts his cup in the sink.

  ‘Right, well, what we need now is a plan. I’ll get on to the insurance people. We can’t start clearing up until they’ve been round. Elsie, do you think your Jeffrey will know the person the insurance people are likely to send round?’

  ‘I should think so. He used to know everyone before he retired, and he keeps up with a lot of them.’

  ‘Right, well, that gives us an advantage. Let’s work out our plan of action then.’

  As news of the fire spreads more people arrive at the house and by the time the boys are leaving for school with Reg it’s like Piccadilly Circus.

  ‘Mum.’

  ‘Yes, Archie?’

  ‘Can we go and see the fire later?’

  ‘It’s all over, I told you, Archie. Everything’s fine now; you go off to school and have a lovely day, and I’ll see you later. What would you like for tea?’

  He tuts.

  ‘It’s not fair. I wanted to see it, and have a go on the fire engine.’

  ‘They were far too busy for boys to be playing on the fire engine, Archie.’

  ‘They might not have noticed.’

  ‘Go and find your shoes, love.’

  I can still smell the smoke. I think I’ll have a bath and wash my hair.

  Reg is putting his coat on.

  ‘Come on, boys, we might have time to get sweets if we hurry.’

  There’s a rush for the front door.

  I’m in the bath, trying to pretend everything’s normal. But it’s not. I really don’t know if I can do this. I’m too tired. The baby moves and I start to cry, quietly. It’s absolutely bloody typical. As soon as I start to think I’ve got things sorted, bingo, another crisis comes along to tip everything upside down. Maybe I should think about this. I want to carry on, but this might be one of those moments when you’re meant to make a new start. Except where would I go? We like it here, we all do. And the shop’s just starting to work, with the website and the groups and everything.

  Christ, I hope the insurance people don’t try to wriggle out of paying, because there’s no way I can afford a new roof. And I’ll have to make sure the boys aren’t worried; Jack will be imagining a small pile of charred embers. I’ll have to take them round and show them as soon as it’s safe. Archie will love it.

  ‘Are you nearly done, pet? Only Reg is back and he wants to talk to you. He’s working out a cleaning rota.’

  ‘I’ll be there in a minute, Gran.’

  ‘Are you sure you’re all right? You sound funny.’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘You should go back to bed, you know, pet, have a rest – I don’t want you doing too much.’

  ‘Don’t fuss, Gran, I’m fine.’

  ‘Shall I do you another bacon sandwich?’

  ‘No, thanks.’

  ‘I could do you a crispy one, with an egg?’

  Actually, that might be quite nice.

  ‘Yes, please. I’ll be down in a minute.’

  ‘I’ll put the pan on.’

  ‘Thanks, Gran.’

  A crispy bacon sandwich with a fried egg. It’s a start, I suppose.

  Chapter Eight

  September

  The Twilight Zone

  It’s Tuesday morning, and I’m walking to the shop with Connie after dropping the kids off at school.

  ‘I’ve had an idea, Con, and I want to talk to you about it, but I want you to be honest, OK? Tell me what you really think.’

  Actually, I’ve been up half the night thinking about it, so I’m really hoping she’s going to like it.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘You know Mrs Davis says she’s selling her shop next door to us?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, if I can sort out the money, I thought maybe I should try to buy it.’

  ‘Then you will have a much bigger shop, yes?’

  ‘Yes, but not just for the wool. I was thinking, the knitting groups have worked so well, and Elsie’s always making people cups of tea, so I thought maybe we could have a tea shop too.’

  ‘Like a café?’

  ‘Yes, something simple, doing teas and coffees and toasted sandwiches, nothing like a restaurant. A cross between Starbucks and an old-fashioned tea shop, that kind of thing. A place for people to meet, of all ages, Olivia and Gemma and Polly too, as well as all our old ladies.’

  ‘Brava. There’s no real café here, not open all year, and the coffee from the fish and chip shop is awful. People will love it, I think.’

  ‘The only thing is I don’t know anything about catering, so would you and Mark be interested in helping me?’

  ‘We’d love to, but we don’t have money, although maybe –’

  ‘No, the money should be fine – I think I can sort out a business loan. The shop’s all mine so I should be able to raise something against that, at least I hope so, no, I meant you could be my café advisors, then you could decide what kind of coffee machine we need, and all that kind of thing, and take a percentage of the profits, if we make any. What do you think?’

  She kisses me.

  ‘Mark can make all the patisserie?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘He will love it; he wants to take on another chef for the kitchen so he has more time for the cakes. It’s what he loves most now, and he’s got so m
any ideas, but there’s never enough time.’

  ‘Great.’

  ‘It’ll be perfect for the birthday cakes; people come to see them in the pub but it’s too busy, and I can’t take anyone into the kitchen because Mark says it is against hygiene.’

  I was really hoping she’d see the potential: me selling a few cakes isn’t really going to be much of a benefit to the pub, but if we use the café as their base on the High Street for Mark’s wedding and birthday cakes then it’ll make much more sense. And it won’t need much space; one of those glass-fronted fridges and a few cake boxes should be all we’ll need.

  ‘Can I tell him now?’

  ‘Of course.’

  She’s babbling on her mobile when we get to the shop to find Gran and Reg are already there.

  Gran’s got her pinny on.

  ‘What did she think?’

  ‘She loves the idea.’

  I called Gran first thing this morning, and she’s really excited. I wanted her to sound out Mrs Davis to make sure she really wants to sell up; I thought she’d talk to her at some point over the next couple of days, but instead she rang her straight away, and then rang me back to say she was really pleased.

  ‘We’ve got all the windows open upstairs.’

  ‘Great.’

  We’re launching Operation Clean-up today since the combined efforts of Reg and Jeffrey have got the insurance assessor round in record time and he’s said we can write off most of the stock. It looks like they won’t be haggling over the claim for the roof either, so Reg has sorted out the electrics with his friend Malcolm, who used to work for the electricity board, and we’ve got two big dehumidifiers going upstairs and one downstairs. It’s amazing how often the plastic containers have to be emptied of thick black water, but it’s definitely starting to feel less damp now.

  The plan is to clean up as speedily as we can and open again next week, and then close again after Christmas, and the baby, and get the re-plastering done; the ceilings are all stained and mottled and the plaster is cracking, and the roof needs a complete overhaul, but I think we can manage until then.