Page 63 of The Little Teashop of Lost and Found
‘Pity if so, because I’d like to see you settled with a nice man at last,’ she said regretfully.
‘I don’t think Nile is the settling kind, even if he was seriously attracted to me, which I’m certain he isn’t. AndI’mnot looking for Mr Right – I’ve got enough on my plate at the moment. If I get lonely, I’ll get a dog.’
‘That’s not quite the same thing,’ she said mildly. ‘But I realize how big a project the teashop is, especially now you have to juggle it with writing books for your scary-sounding agent.’
‘I’m enjoying it all – well, except for the dust, drilling and hammering – but I lie awake sometimes worrying that the tearoom won’t be a success and I’ll have to sell up again.’
‘I’m sure it will be and I’m looking forward to seeing it – and you. It’s been ages.’
‘I’ve organized you a bed,’ I told her. ‘Sheila’s loaned me a small brass one that was in the attic and Nile’s offered to dismantle it and drop it off here when he comes back this afternoon. I’ll order a mattress express delivery.’
‘That’s very kind of him, but I hope you aren’t going to too much trouble when I’m only coming up for one night.’
‘Only one night this time, but I hope you’ll come again and I meant to get the guest room sorted out ready anyway, so it’s just spurred me on a bit.’
‘Well, actually you might see me more often than you expect, if you decide to use our jams and relishes in your café. I’m bringing you some samples. But there’s no pressure to take them, because even if you don’t I can still claim this trip as a business expense to the accountant.’
‘That’s a great idea! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself,’ I enthused. ‘AndImust find an accountant too, before things get in a tangle. I’m keeping my accounts and filing all the receipts for the teashop, of course, but it’s going to be quite complicated.’
‘Yes, it’s worth it,’ she agreed. ‘Perhaps Nile has one he can recommend?’
‘He might. I’ll ask him later,’ I said. ‘By the way, Sheila’s invited us out to Oldstone Farm for dinner on Thursday night – is that OK? I said I’d run it past you first.’
‘Of course and it’s very kind of her. I do adore old houses and they sound a lovely family.’
‘I’ll tell her yes, then, and we can have a wander round Haworth before we go out there. I’ll take the day off.’ Then I heard a noise from below and told her, ‘Either I have a very noisy burglar in the kitchen, or Nile’s carrying bits of bed in.’
‘He has a key?’
‘Yes, I gave him one ages ago, because he’s always in and out, though he hasn’t given me a key to his place in return. Perhaps he thinks I’ll sneak in and fondle his curios.’
‘Or he’s got a Bluebeard’s chamber in his flat?’
‘That’s a nice thought,’ I said, grinning, and then told her I’d better go and help Nile get the bits of bed upstairs.
I hoped he’d put it back together again for me too, but he seemed abstracted and left once he’d stacked it all in the small bedroom, saying he had calls to make, so I thought I’d get Jack to do it instead. Or perhaps it was time to augment my selection of screwdrivers and have a go myself.
I emailed the edits off early next morning, hoping the editor could make sense of them, becauseIcertainly couldn’t. All those changes in different colours were terribly confusing.
Still, they were gone and after that there was nothing to stop me finishing my new book … apart from the teashop, as I discovered all too soon.
For although Jack was site-managing the project between his other jobs elsewhere, I was constantly being summoned to make decisions, give an opinion, or simply admire the glossy white paintwork on the kitchen cupboard doors, or the installation of a gleaming new toilet in one of the two customer cloakroom cubicles. I could see every day would be like that until it was finished!
The almost silent youth, Ross, had sanded and painted all the plate racks and shelves now and they were reattached to the café walls. I don’t think he enjoyed doing it, but he told me he was looking forward to sanding the café floor, once he’d worked his way all over it, hammering down any nails that were protruding.
What with the noise, the interruptions and organizing all the other things that needed to be filled in, ordered, sourced, registered or applied for before the teashop could be opened, it was dawning on me that most of my writing time would be at night, when I was tired. But since Senga was scarier than anything I’d ever thought up in my stories, I’d get on with it.
And once I was really into a novel, of course, I lost myself. The working title might beWhen Beauty Goes Bad, but in my head it wasBad-Ass Beauty– because she was.
Nile seemed to keep late nights too, because I didn’t draw my curtains until I went to bed and whenever I looked up from my desk the lights were on behind the blind of his flat and occasionally a tall, dark shape moved across it. I found this strangely comforting.
‘This is a good weapon,’ Beauty said, picking it up from the floor. ‘Did you see? He just pointed it at the spider and it dropped right down dead!’
‘It’s not dead – but he might be,’ Prince Kev said, bending over the man, who had lost his balance and fallen, hitting his head. ‘No – Ithink he’s just stunned, but I’m getting out of here before he comes round!’
‘We’ll both go,’ Beauty said, taking his hand firmly in hers and drawing him out of the door.
Outside, a pleasant small glade had opened up and a circle of green-clad nymphs were dancing, diaphanous draperies floating.
