Page 83 of The Little Teashop of Lost and Found
‘But that’s where the willow-pattern china was, and there isn’t anything else in there, other than a vacuum cleaner.’
‘She was positive it was there, behind the boxes of willow pattern – and since she has no objection to your having that, she thought you wouldn’t have any objection to giving me the tea service to pass on to her.’
‘Having stripped the place of anything of any value, it’s kind of her not to demand that willow pattern back, too,’ Tilda said drily. ‘Eh, the cheek of the woman!’
‘The value of the willow-pattern china is a drop in the ocean of the amount she owes me,’ I said. ‘And I’m entitled to keep anything I find on my premises.’
‘But surely, her mother’s tea set …’ he blustered.
‘Alice’s already told you, it wasn’t there,’ said Tilda. ‘The cupboard’s empty apart from that clapped-out old vacuum cleaner – an antique like you, Jim Voss!’
He flushed an unbecoming dark red, right up to the top of his balding head. ‘Perhaps I could see for myself.’
‘Perhaps you could take yourself off,’ she returned.
‘Yes – we’ve already told you it isn’t there and we’re very busy, so we’d prefer your space to your presence,’ I told him.
He glowered at us, clamped his lips together on whatever he was thinking of saying and marched out, slamming the back door behind him.
‘Our Nell has the right of it: he’s a little sneaking snirp,’ Tilda said.
Later, just after Tilda had left, the teashop sign came back, newly lettered in white on dark teal to match the rest of the outside paintwork. ‘The Fat Rascal’ was in large script and underneath, in smaller lettering, it read, ‘Afternoon Tea Emporium’.
When it was fixed up I stood there for ages, simply drinking in the wonderful effect of the sign, the glossy paintwork, the pretty trellis porch and the shining bull’s-eye glass of the bow window. (That was Tilda’s doing – she swore by vinegar and crumpled newspaper.)
Bel, who had driven in for some shopping, found me there and said admiringly, ‘Oh, it looks perfect now, doesn’t it?’
‘Well, almost, but I think it still needs a couple of finishing touches,’ I said consideringly. ‘Nile gave me a big blue and white jug and I’ll have that on the window ledge, filled with seasonal flowers, but don’t you think there should be something else actuallyoutsideto brighten it up?’
‘Yes, perhaps a tub of flowers or something,’ Bel suggested. ‘We could go to a garden centre over the weekend and see what we can find, if you like. Youarecoming out to Oldstone again, aren’t you? You know Mum expects you to now, unless you tell her you can’t make it?’
‘It’s very kind of her and I’ll come tomorrow, but I want to work on my book tonight, when it’s quiet.’
Mind you, if Nile wasn’t back it might betooquiet in Doorknocker’s Row … and feel a bit lonely. I liked it better when I could look across and see the comforting square of light that showed he was home.
‘Is Nile going to be there this weekend?’ I asked, despite myself.
‘Oh, Nile seldom says what he’s doing, he just turns up. Isn’t he here?’
‘No, he went off somewhere very early.’
‘He told Mum he was taking you to Mr Rochester’s Restaurant last night,’ she said, looking at me sideways. ‘Are you seeing each other?’
‘It would be hard to avoid seeing each other, since we both live in Doorknocker’s Row,’ I said evasively. ‘But we did go to the restaurant, because Nile had something to deliver to Henry Godet, the owner. He wanted to see what the food was like, too, so he asked me if I’d like to go with him.’
She looked disappointed – I’m not quite sure what she was expecting. ‘Oh … right. And whatwasit like?’
‘Delicious!’
She looked at me expectantly. ‘And …?’
‘A violinist came and played at the table, which was embarrassing – but not as embarrassing as one of Nile’s many ex-girlfriends making a drunken scene over him as we left.’
‘Which one?’
‘I think I heard her being called Chloe.’
‘I remember Chloe. She left Nile for someone else, so I don’t know why she would make a scene. And actually, he hasn’t had many girlfriends since he moved up here,’ she added.
