Page 36 of The Little Teashop of Lost and Found
She showed me some pieces, which were lovely, though not at all Victorian or flowery.
I was allowed a glimpse of a huge heavy example of Sheila’s work, too, which was waiting to be packed up.
‘Everything she makes sells almost instantly. The galleries can’t get enough of it,’ Bel said proudly. ‘Come on, I’ll show you the carriage house, where the café is going to be.’
It proved to be a large, stone-flagged space sandwiched between the studios and the Pondlife office. I thought it would be ideal … with a lot of work. I wasn’t sure that either Bel or her mother realized quitehowmuch would be involved before they could serve even the light refreshments they were contemplating.
‘We could have the tables in the middle and my ceramics displayed around the walls, to tempt them into impulse buys,’ Bel was saying. ‘Maybe later we might take other craftspeople’s work, too, or even convert more stable for studio space.’
I looked round at the stone walls and the lovely beams in the roof. ‘You’d need to glaze in the big entrance doorway; that would let more light in. Those high windows help – are they original?’
‘No, I think there was some Victorian remodelling,’ she said. ‘We’ve already had electricity put into the studios and the Pondlife office, of course, which will be handy.’
‘And presumably you’ve got water laid on? You’ll need a staff hand-washing sink behind the counter if you’re selling food to the public. There are all sorts of hygiene and safety rules to comply with.’
‘I suppose there must be,’ she said vaguely. ‘You can see now that Mum and I reallyneedyour help with the café idea, because we simply don’t know where to start, so it’s a huge stroke of good fortune that you’ve come to stay!’
‘Yours will be simple to plan and set up compared to my teashop,’ I said, ‘though you’ll still have to comply with all the same planning and hygiene rules.’
‘That sounds daunting.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll help. I need to update myself with the current regulations anyway.’
‘I can see you’re going to be worth your weight in cooked breakfasts,’ Bel said, smiling.
The early wintry spell had mercurially reverted to golden September sunshine with a little warmth in it, and on the way back to the house we paused to look down on the swimming pond.
‘It looks quite inviting with the blue sky reflected in it,’ I said.
‘We do sometimes swim in it in September if we have an Indian summer. Not this year, though; it’s too chilly even on a day like this.’
I shivered. ‘I still think I prefer heated indoor swimming pools.’
‘We’ll see if we can change your mind next summer, when it’s hot.’
Bel finished her tour by taking me round the house, which was a total mishmash of styles that somehow melded into a homely whole. The oldest part had lots of small, dark, panelled rooms and one large formal dining room, which she said they never used, preferring to eat in the kitchen.
‘Mending the roof took most of our money, so Mum’s doing the rest of the house up one room at a time,’ Bel explained. ‘We all join in with the wallpaper stripping, sanding, painting – all the rest of it. Then we have a couple of weeks off and start on another. I think one of the letting bedrooms in your wing is next, so she can take more paying visitors next summer.’
Two letting bedrooms had been finished, including mine, but three more were dingy and in need of attention.
‘There are former servants’ bedrooms in the attic, too,’ Bel said. ‘But some are full of junk and they can all wait until we’ve done the rest of the house. Mum goes up there occasionally to take a lucky dip into the furniture and usually comes back with something interesting.’
I saw a little of Geeta and Teddy’s rooms through the open door off the living room and glanced into the bedrooms occupied by the family, which had all been redone. Nile’s had a vast four-poster bed and a large wardrobe eminently suitable for hanging vampire cloaks in.
The house had been quiet and deserted until we opened the kitchen door and found baby Casper in his highchair, banging a spoon on a tray quite happily while Sheila cooked.
‘There you are!’ she said over her shoulder. ‘Stewed chicken anddumplings – and it’s just us tonight, because Nile is having dinner with that client and Geeta and Teddy have gone to see friends for the evening.’
The chicken smelled lovely. I wassoglad it wasn’t a sheep’s head. Perhaps Nile had only been joking about that.
Over dinner I told Sheila that the Scandinavian décor in my bedroom, all chalky grey-blues, warm cream and soft white, had inspired my entire colour scheme for the flat and café.
‘It’s very tranquil and soothing, but not cold, so I think it will be perfect, and also fit in with the blue and white patterned china.’
Sheila wrote down the contact details of her handyman, who was very good, for those jobs I couldn’t do myself. ‘And if you need plumbers and electricians, he can organize that for you, too,’ she added. ‘You can trust Jack.’
‘That will be really useful – thank you,’ I said gratefully. ‘The bed we ordered should be delivered on Friday – if they can find me,’ I added, ‘but I’d like to paint the flat before I move in, if you don’t mind my staying here till then?’
