‘Who’s that?’
‘Ron from Blackawton,’ Leo said.
‘Didn’t look too happy,’ Katie said. ‘Oh, is he the one Mattie mentioned wanting to get his hands on the shop?’
‘That’s him. Don’t worry about him. He’s all wind.’ Leo glanced at Katie. ‘All the same we won’t mention this to Mattie, all right, little Tiggy? No point in upsetting her.’
Katie nodded, too concerned about Ron to react to Leo’s use of her childish nickname again.
Leo followed Katie back into the shop and stayed to help her prepare the stockroom ready for painting and its makeover into a friendly clubroom.
‘You still thinking about living upstairs?’
‘Definitely,’ Katie nodded. ‘Though Mattie is insisting I stay with her until after her holiday at least. Think she just wants to make sure I’m around for Bert while she’s away,’ she added, looking at the dog sleeping on the mat by the door.
‘Let me know when you’re ready to make a start up there and I’ll give you a hand,’ Leo offered.
‘Will do. Thanks.’ Katie glanced at him. ‘You coming to the grand opening at the weekend?’
‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ Leo grinned at her. ‘Little Tiggy coming home to run a shop – who’d have thought it?’
Katie glared at him. ‘It’s Katie – and what’s so funny about me running a shop?’
‘Nothing. It just seems an unlikely thing for the Katie I knew to be doing, that’s all.’
Resisting the urge to throw something at him – he was helping her after all – Katie said, ‘I’m doing it for Mattie as much as me. I think she’s looking very tired these days.’
‘She’s perked up a lot since you’ve come back. She likes having you around. Where d’you want these boxes put?’
‘Attic room, please. It’ll be the last room to be done.’
THREE
Four days later, Katie and Mattie were doing last minute fitting out and shelf-stocking before the grand reopening of A Good Yarn, which Katie had planned for Saturday morning. The shop was pristine and colourful, filled with skeins of wool, books of knitting patterns, sewing kits, button cabinets, embroidery silks, tapestry sets and other hobby crafts.
One wall was devoted to ‘Local Crafts’ and those shelves held an assortment of pottery, candles, jewellery and other handmade stuff. Seascape paintings by a friend of Mattie’s were dotted around in gaps on the walls, discreet stickers showing their prices. A rack of local postcards stood ready to be pushed outside.
The old stockroom had been transformed – with the help of some furniture from Mattie – into a comfy, inviting room with easy chairs, a table with a sewing machine, a bookcase, a CD player, coffee machine and china mugs in the corner – all ready for the first meeting of the Knit, Stitch and Listen book club next week.
‘Oh, these are fun,’ Mattie said, unpacking a box of knitted flowers. ‘Where shall I put them?’
‘Some on the counter by the till,’ Katie said, handing her a wicker basket to place a selection in. ‘The rest can go on the shelf with the other decorative stuff.’
‘You going to wear one tomorrow? Showcase the goods and all that?’
‘Definitely. You must wear one too.’
‘D’you think we could persuade Leo to wear one?’ Mattie laughed. ‘You’d never have managed all this without him and his muscles.’
‘I owe him, big time,’ Katie said seriously. ‘But I doubt I can persuade him to wear a knitted flower.’ She glanced at Mattie. ‘Always thought he’d be married by now with a family running around the farmhouse.’
‘He tells me he’s been too busy setting the farm up and getting the house habitable,’ Mattie said. ‘Guess he’ll get around to it soon. May I have this cream rose?’
Bert, stretched out in what had become his usual position on the mat by the front door, barked as an envelope was pushed through the letter box and landed on his back. Katie picked it up and examined it curiously. Finding it addressed to ‘The Owner, A Good Yarn’, she automatically held it out to Mattie.
Mattie shook her head. ‘That’s you now. You open it.’
‘There’s going to be an American film company in town soon, making a documentary about life down here during World War II. They’re promising to keep the disruption to the minimum and,’ Katie looked up at Mattie, ‘they’re keen to find people to talk to who lived here then.’
‘Well, they needn’t look at me,’ Mattie said. ‘I was only a child. They wouldn’t be interested in my memories.’
‘Why not? The few things you’ve told me about the town then are fascinating – all that business where everyone was evacuated from around here, Operation Overlord. That American – Clara’s boyfriend – showing you how to play basketball. Coronation Park being out of bounds.’
‘Ancient history. They should let it be,’ Mattie said. ‘It does no good at all raking it up all the time. When are they coming?’
‘Next week to do some more research and start filming. They’re reckoning on being in town for most of the summer,’ Katie said.
‘At least I’ll be away for some of the time,’ Mattie said. ‘Right, what’s in this last packet?’
‘Poster and leaflets advertising the club,’ Katie said. ‘I’ll stick the poster up on the door and leave a pile on the counter ready to hand out tomorrow.’
‘Knit, Stitch and Listen book club. Tuesday evenings and Thursday afternoons. Join for a couple of hours’ creative fun and listen to the latest bestseller,’ Mattie read. ‘Is Christopher organizing the audio books for you?’
‘Yes, and a few paperbacks too. I just hope people find the idea of the club a good one and we get some members.’
Katie made her way to the shop early Saturday morning. She needed to get a head start decorating the doors and windows with balloons, banners and ribbons. She was determined that the shop would look festive for the opening ceremony later.
The caterers had promised to deliver the champagne, nibbles and a cake at 10.30. Mattie, as the VIP guest, would cut the red ribbon strung across the entrance as she declared A Good Yarn once again open for business.
Katie stood stock-still as the shop came into view. What the hell had happened overnight? White paint obliterated both windows. The glass panel of the front door had been smashed. There was glass everywhere. A policeman was standing in the entrance writing in his notebook.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Seems somebody went on the rampage. You the owner?’
Katie nodded.
‘You’d better check out the inside. See if anything obvious is missing – but don’t touch things in case the forensic boys need to come.’
Rather than simply stepping through the hole, Katie unlocked the door and crunched over the broken glass. Inside, everything appeared to be as she and Mattie had left it last night. Nothing disturbed. Nothing missing.
‘Looks like plain vandalism rather than burglary, then,’ the police officer said.
‘But only me targeted,’ Katie said, looking at the empty buildings next door and the shops across the narrow street. ‘Why?’
‘You’re the nearest to the pub. Drunken louts, I expect. I’ll have a word with the landlord. See if he had any trouble last night. Might be worth you investing in some steel shutters for the windows and door. Stop it happening again.’
Katie rang Mattie. ‘We have a problem,’ she said. ‘It’s going to take time to clear things up. Might have to postpone the grand opening.’
‘Nonsense. I’ll get Leo. He’ll soon have the place sorted.’
Katie sighed as she fetched a broom and began to sweep up the glass. Impromptu drunken vandalism didn’t explain the white paint daubed all over the place. Was someone out to stop her before she’d even started?
Leo abandoned his bike on Bayards Cove and gave her a tight hug when he arrived ten minutes later. ‘Don’t worry, Tiggy. We’ll soon have the place back to normal. I’ve phoned a mate to come and r
eplace the glass in the door.’
‘There’s a bottle of paint stripper out back,’ he said. ‘I’ll make a start on cleaning the windows.’
‘Police got any idea who’s responsible?’ he asked.
‘Probably drunks. But drunks wouldn’t have had tins of paint on them, would they?’
Leo grunted, stretching to reach some paint high on the window. ‘Kids often carry aerosols ready for a spot of graffiti. Don’t worry. This place will be as good as new in time for the opening.’
Katie hesitated, not wanting to put the thought into words. ‘You don’t think it’s Ron the Blackawton cousin making his feelings known?’
Leo shook his head. ‘No. Like I said – that one is all wind. Reckon the police have it right. Drunken louts.’
‘Hope you’re right,’ Katie sighed.
‘Sure I am Tig … Katie. Got the coffee on yet? Missed my normal breakfast cup, racing down here. Black, no sugar.’
When she got back with his coffee Leo had finished one window and was busy on the other one. His friend had arrived and was efficiently measuring the door for replacement glass, which he promised would be in situ within the hour.
The place was already beginning to look better. Leo was right. Things would be back to normal in time for the opening. Katie’s heartbeat slowed and she began to relax.
Once the windows were clean and the door repaired, Leo climbed the ladder and pinned the ‘Grand Reopening’ banner across the front of the building. Together they blew up and then hung bunches of balloons from the upstairs windows. The red ribbon was tacked onto one side of the entrance ready to be tied across the doorway prior to Mattie’s speech and the cutting ceremony.
The caterers arrived with the champagne and the nibbles. In amongst the usual junk mail and bills the postman delivered several good luck cards, including one from Patrick. She’d sent him an email to tell him the date of the opening ceremony but he hadn’t replied.
Katie laughed out loud as she saw the flying pink pig illustration. Patrick’s message, though – ‘Hope these aren’t flying past your place in the future. Good luck. Patrick’ – made her sigh. She hoped so too. She’d ring him later. Tell him how things went.
With half an hour to go, Leo disappeared in a roar of exhaust noise to go back to the farm, change his clothes and to collect Mattie.
The florist turned up with two bouquets. About to protest she’d only ordered the lily one for presenting to Mattie as a thank-you gesture, Katie saw the second one, yellow and cream roses, was addressed to her from Leo.
‘Welcome back, Tiggy, and good luck. Leo.’
Katie put the card in her pocket before hiding Mattie’s bouquet out of sight and placing the basket of roses on the counter where they started to fill the shop with their wonderful scent.
‘Miss Teague?’
Katie turned. ‘Yes?’
‘Dave – reporter from the Chronicle. Can I take a photo of you working here in the shop before the ceremony? I gather you had a spot of bother here this morning. Likely to delay the opening?’
‘No. Everything is back to normal now,’ Katie said, self-consciously standing where Dave indicated by the counter as he clicked away. ‘Should all start to happen in about five minutes when my VIP guest arrives. So if you’ll excuse me, I still have to get the ribbon tied across the door. And to find the scissors.’
Katie, fixing the red ribbon across the door, heard a childish voice calling out, ‘Atie, Atie. We’re a surprise!’
‘What a surprise,’ Katie said, turning and seeing Lara and Dexter and their daughter Daisy laughing at her. ‘Haven’t learnt to say your Ks yet then, Daisy,’ she said, picking up the little girl and cuddling her.
‘What are you doing here?’ she said, looking at Lara and Dexter. ‘How long are you down for?’
‘Couldn’t miss the grand opening. We leave after lunch tomorrow,’ Lara said. ‘So we’ve got this evening to catch up.’
Leo and Mattie arrived at that moment with Bert, a red scarf tied around his neck, straining on his lead. Mattie laughingly acknowledged the good-natured cheers of the small crowd that had gathered.
Katie watched as Mattie greeted various friends – Christopher from the bookshop, Luke, the owner of one of the nearby restaurants, and Pete – ‘fishing trips rounds the bay’ – before Leo escorted her to the beribboned entrance.
‘Right,’ Mattie said. ‘To business. You hold Bert and give me the scissors.’
Smiling, Katie took charge of Bert and handed the scissors over.
‘I declare A Good Yarn well and truly open for business and wish Katie every success. Ta-da!’ Mattie said, cutting the ribbon with a flourish. ‘The champagne is on the house. Now, where’s Bert?’
‘He’s here,’ Katie said. ‘But hang on two secs….’ She gave Mattie a quick hug before fetching the bouquet. ‘Thank you for trusting me with A Good Yarn. I promise not to let you down.’ She handed Mattie the lilies, giving her another quick hug in the process.
Leo appeared at her side with a glass of champagne.
‘Thanks for the roses. They’re beautiful,’ Katie said.
Leo’s brown eyes were serious as they clinked glasses. ‘Pleased to have you back in town, Tiggy. Here’s to the future. I’m sure A Good Yarn will be a huge success in your hands.’
‘Hope so,’ Katie said, looking at Mattie and everyone milling around. There were so many people wishing her well and Mattie was relying on her. What the hell was she thinking taking on a wool shop? She was a film production manager, for God’s sake.
‘You’ll be Businesswoman of the Year before you know it,’ Lara said, appearing at her side. ‘So stop worrying.’
Katie laughed. Lara had always had this uncanny knack of second-guessing her feelings.
‘Hope you’re right. Not that I particularly want to be Businesswoman of the Year – I just want the shop to be successful.’
‘And it will be. Now, Dexter and I have to get back to the boatyard for the afternoon, Daisy is desperate to play with her cousins, but we’re invited to Leo’s for supper this evening. We’ll pick you up on our way. About 7.30, OK?’
The queue beginning to form at the counter caught Katie’s attention. ‘OK. See you later,’ she said, moving towards the queue. Mattie was staring, frustrated, at the new electronic till which Katie had bought to replace the old National cash register with its dodgy keys and temperamental cash drawer that had been in the shop since before the war. It could only be a matter of seconds before Mattie attempted to bash the innovation into submission.
Thanks to the champagne which Leo had insisted they needed to toast ‘the newest shopkeeper in town’, there was a party atmosphere around the big wooden table in his farmhouse kitchen later that evening.
Candles and the light from a couple of old-fashioned oil lamps were casting a soft glow over the room. Leo had cooked honey-roast lamb with rosemary, roast potatoes and asparagus, followed by apple crumble and clotted cream.
‘Didn’t realise you were such a good cook these days,’ Katie said. ‘Takeaway pizza used to be your idea of a good meal.’
‘Can you please give Dexter a few tips,’ Lara said. ‘He’s hopeless in the kitchen. If he can’t open a ready-prepared meal he’s lost. It’s all those years living on shipboard rations.’
‘I have other talents,’ Dexter said quietly. ‘Have you told Katie our news yet?’
‘Told me what? Oh,’ Katie said, interpreting the look that passed between Lara and Dexter. ‘Daisy’s going to have company? I wondered why you weren’t swigging the champagne down. Congratulations.’
‘Early days yet, but yes,’ Lara said.
‘More champagne needed, I think,’ Leo said, ‘to toast that news. Although not for you, obviously, Lara!’
‘In that case I’ll have the last helping of apple crumble. Pass the cream, please.’
As Katie stood up to clear the table, Leo turned to Dexter. ‘Want to see my new silage cutter? Got it earlier this w
eek.’ The two men disappeared out into the farmyard.
‘That is so typical of farmers,’ Lara laughed. ‘Surprised Leo didn’t start singing I’ve got a Brand New Combine Harvester.’
‘I’m so glad you came for the opening,’ Katie said. ‘Wouldn’t have been the same without you here.’ The whole day had been brilliant – apart from the vandalism – and this evening with two of her oldest friends and Dexter had been good too. Totally relaxed and casual – just the way she’d used to spend her evenings. Which meant of course that Patrick would have hated everything. Spending a Saturday evening in a farmhouse was definitely not his scene.
‘Thought Patrick might have done the decent thing and shown up today,’ Lara said, stacking plates in the dishwasher. ‘Or at least phoned?’
‘He hasn’t forgiven me yet for taking on the shop. He did send a card wishing me luck but other than that,’ she shrugged, ‘I haven’t heard a peep from him.’
‘Good. Hopefully he’s got the message you’ve ditched him.’
‘Why do you keep on about me ditching him?’ Katie demanded. ‘I haven’t.’
‘Because he’s all wrong for you. Trust me – I’m happily married and I know these things!’
‘I know you’ve never made any real attempt to get to know him. That time we all went out to the concert together was a disaster – you were so rude to him.’ Should she tell Lara what Patrick had said afterwards about Lara having attitude?
‘Well, that should have told you something. Besides, I was only rude in retaliation. He started it first.’
‘Who exactly is this Patrick?’
Both Katie and Lara turned at the sound of Leo’s voice. Neither had heard him return to the kitchen.
‘My boyfriend,’ Katie said, deciding there was no reason why she shouldn’t tell Leo about Patrick. After all if – no, when – Patrick came for a visit, the two men would undoubtedly meet, so it was best if Leo knew about him now.
Leo picked up a catalogue from the dresser. ‘Not a very supportive boyfriend by the sounds of it. Maybe he’s ditched you, rather than wait for you to dump him,’ he said, before opening the kitchen door. ‘Anyway, long distance relationships rarely work.’ The door closed behind him, leaving Katie staring after him open-mouthed.
Shadows of Conflict Page 3
