‘The Cotswolds. Not far from Stratford.’
‘Lovely part of the world. And what brings you to Lullbury Bay?’
‘A job.’
Austin peered at her, brows raised questioningly, so she gave in.
‘I’ve just bought the pub up on the hill. The old coaching inn.’
‘Have you now? Well done you. Been closed awhile that has. Will be good to see the old place open again. I’ll drop in and have a pint with Old Pete. He still going in, is he?’
‘Oh yes.’
‘That’s good.’ Austin nodded approvingly. ‘Lifeline for him now his Marjorie has gone. Don’t know what he’d do without his skittles and his cider. Not to mention that raggedly old mutt of his. Mine’s gone now. Had a German Shepherd. Lovely dog she was. The best. Miss her like a limb.’ Tears sprang into his age faded eyes and he stood abruptly. ‘Can’t stay sitting too muchlonger, the old legs get stiff if I do. Lovely talking to you, Livvy.’ He touched a finger to his cap in a charming, old-fashioned gesture. ‘You take care of yourself, and I’ll be along for a pint. Bye now.’
‘Goodbye.’ She twisted to read the plaque she’d missed before:
“Rest awhile. Make a friend. Enjoy the view. Life’s richer with a chat.”
Smiling, she watched Austin as he sauntered away, limping slightly on his right leg. It had felt good to talk to a stranger. Had left a warm glow in her heart. Perhaps there was something in this friendship bench idea. Maybe, just maybe, her Christmas by the sea wouldn’t be lonely after all.
CHAPTER 4
Lullbury Bay Craft Distillery Gin – smooth classic juniper flavour with a subtle bite. An acquired taste.
Opening up at eleven, she was met at the door by Pete and the collie. She sighed a little. Was she destined to be surrounded by old men today?
‘What are these then?’ He peered suspiciously at the chilli nuts and hand-cut crisps displayed in pretty glass dishes on the bar.
‘Bar snacks.’ Livvy began pulling his pint of cider.
Pete wrinkled up his nose.
‘They’re free,’ she added, placing his full glass on the bar mat.
‘In that case, I’ll have me a few.’ He scooped up an enormous handful, grabbed his pint and shuffled off to his corner.
‘Here, Skip.’ Livvy threw a dog treat which the collie caught deftly.
‘You’ll never make a profit that way.’ Pete chuckled. ‘Giving folk free stuff.’
‘I won’t if you’re my only regular,’ Livvy muttered under her breath. This wasn’t her idea of how her pub would be. In her head she had sanded wooden floors, a wood burner gusting out heat, quirky artwork on the walls. She looked around at the fusion of clashing and worn patterns and huffed. Was she mad to take this on? Pete opened his newspaper and shook it hard. Sipping his pint and eating his chilli nuts one by one, he looked set for the day.
How would he feel about the changes she wanted to make? She needed to attract a different clientele, those who would spend generously and enjoy the ambience she wanted to create. But she needed to be fair to the established regulars, like Pete, too. Suppressing a smile, she couldn’t help but think how different he was to the sort of customer her father’s hotels dealt with. Both difficult in their way but both deserving of the very best in hospitality.
She looked around at the otherwise empty pub. Maybe it was too optimistic to expect many in on a Thursday lunchtime in October, but she’d hoped for more customers than Pete and his dog. Her heart sank. If this was going to be what it was like, there hardly seemed any point in making any changes at all.
Get a grip, Liv,she scolded.Remember your dream.Leaning on the bar, she grabbed a notebook and began outlining an advert for a chef. The sooner she had someone in the kitchen the better.
‘Good morning.’
Livvy looked up to see a tall, slender man, maybe in his forties, standing at the bar. He had pale hair which had possibly once been blond and wore a three-piece suit with studied elegance. A pair of expensive-looking glasses with thin black frames completed the urbane effect. He must move silently, like a cat, as she hadn’t heard him come in.
‘Good morning.’ She glanced at the ancient station clock on the wall. She liked it and had decided it would stay. ‘Although I rather think it’s good afternoon.’ She smiled warmly. ‘What can I get you?’
‘A gin and tonic if I may. Local if you have it. Salcombe otherwise. Botanicals tonic.’ He held out a hand. ‘And perhaps we should compromise on hello. Saves all the tedious uncertainty of when it’s morning and when it’s afternoon. It’s so good to see the old place open again. I’m Jason Lemmon.’
Livvy shook his hand, hoping her own wasn’t too sticky from Pete’s cider. ‘Livvy Smith. Your new landlady.’
