Page 12 of The Cornish Christmas Book Clu
‘What about a Christmas tree?’ Wilf asked and must’ve noticed her confusion. ‘I mean a village one.’
‘We’ve never had one. The parish council is always short of money, so I don’t think they could afford it.’
‘What about that tree?’ Wilf pointed to a nearby dark-green fir. ‘That’s got to come out because the builder says it’s too close to the house. If you could think of a good central spot, I could have him dig it up and replant it. We could put it in a large pot for the holidays and then plant it back in the soil somewhere afterwards.’
Tamara’s brain raced. ‘There’s a patch of grass outside the church that would be perfect.’ Her face fell. ‘But lights are expensive and—’
‘If it wouldn’t be stepping on anyone’s toes, I’m happy to pay for them.’
It struck her that maybe this was what Penworthal needed — a burst of new energy and ideas. Just like Gage with his bookshop. A lot of the dyed-in-the-wool locals wouldn’t agree of course, but wasn’t that often the way?
‘That’s a wonderful idea and very generous. If you like, I could have a word with Vernon Bull who owns the village shop and is on the council?’
‘Great. Let me know what he says.’
‘I think you and your wife will be huge assets to the community.’
‘But don’t barge in and act all big-headed and try to take over, right?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
Wilf chuckled. ‘Hotel business, remember. Good at reading people.’
Too good.‘I’d better be off. You’ll have to pop into The Rusty Anchor so I can buy you your first pint at the village pub. And your wife, of course. I work there sometimes, so I might be behind the bar.’
‘We’d be delighted.’
With a cheery wave Tamara left, buoyed by the encounter, and headed back to Church Street. Another distraction kept her from Vernon’s shop and she crossed the road, lured by the new sign fixed to the front of Gage’s shop. She swallowed down a wave of regret at it not being the café of her dreams.
The Mighty Pen
New and Used Books
Talk about a transformation. The shabby building looked completely different already, with a fresh coat of white paint on the walls and a new, glossy, dark-green door. The glass in the large bay window shone, and plastered across it was a large sign announcing that the shop would be opening soon. It gave links, including a scannable QR code, to social media pages where people could check for updates.
‘What do you think of it?’
She turned with a start and felt her face light up like a Christmas tree. Gage had pulled up next to her in a white van and was leaning out of the driver’s window.
‘Looks great.’ Tamara tried not to sound too grudging.
‘Fancy checking out the inside?’
‘If you like.’
‘I could do with a second opinion before I go any further.’ He climbed out and pushed the van door closed.
‘Then you shall have it, Mr Bennet.’
After he’d left the pub on Friday she’d unashamedly pumped Melissa for a word-by-word account of everything that had been said, and Evelyn’s play on his name had amused her.
‘Very funny.’ Gage’s smile was tight and strained, as if from infrequent use.
As he walked over to join her, Tamara became aware for the first time of the pronounced limp in his left leg. Their eyes met, and her breath caught when his expression turned deadly serious.
* * *
‘Come inside, I’d much prefer to talk there rather than in the street.’ A tingle of resentment nagged at him. The last thing he needed was her pity. Gage stood back to let her go first.
