Time to Move On (14 page)

Before Saturday came round she saw Luke again. This time he was talking to a young woman who was hand in hand with a little girl. The shock hit her anew. He was married, and for a moment she felt the usual surge of anger at his duplicity. Why was he hiding the fact? Then his words came back to her. Don’t jump to conclusions. Was it a friend? Or someone asking directions? Seeing him with a woman didn’t
automatically
make the woman his wife.

They met as planned and went to a small country public house, where they ate a simple meal of sandwiches. Luke said very little, he just asked an occasional question to encourage her to think things through.

She asked him if he had ever had to solve a similar situation. ‘Have you had a friendship that was in trouble and needed sorting?’ It was the closest she dared to get to asking if he had a broken marriage behind him. Surely if he cared, even a little, he would tell her?

He smiled and shook his head. ‘Friends are too important to take chances. We need them all. I always try to make allowances, see the other side, although that’s difficult at times.’

Talking to him helped make up her mind. She would see Babs and apologize and hopefully return to work beside her. She thanked him as she stepped out of the car. He didn’t come in and she wasn’t sure whether she was disappointed or relieved.

Betty Connors was on the phone to the brewery giving her weekly order when she saw the ambulance drive around the corner behind the post office. She immediately guessed it was for her sister-in-law. ‘Can you hold the fort a while?’ she called to Alun. ‘There’s an ambulance and it’s going towards Ed and Elsie’s place.’

Throwing off her apron and grabbing her coat, she hurried to her brother’s guest house where she saw the ambulance parked with its doors open, and a stretcher being lifted inside. Ed was coming out from the house carrying a coat and a small suitcase. ‘Betty. Thank goodness you’ve come. I couldn’t get through on the phone. Elsie’s real bad. Can you see to the arrivals this afternoon?’

‘Of course,’ Betty assured him. She watched as the ambulance drove slowly away then went in to see what needed doing. After ten minutes she rang the Ship.

‘Sorry, Alun, but I’ll be about an hour here. I’ll be back for lunchtime
opening, then I’ll have to come back to see to the arrivals. Only four, thank goodness. Birdwatchers apparently. They won’t be much trouble.’

‘Don’t worry, love, I’ll be all right until you get back.’

The ‘Don’t worry, love’ pleased her and she felt like a young woman with her first crush.

Ed rang at lunchtime and the news wasn’t good. Elsie was having
difficulty
breathing and would be in hospital for some time.

‘I’ll do what I can,’ Alun promised Betty. ‘Bob will help and Kitty has promised to wash glasses. This is an amazing place, I didn’t have to ask!’

‘I know. They all help whoever needs it, even the grumpy and
ungrateful
,’ she said with a laugh. ‘The customers are patient, too. A couple of them will come round the other side of the bar to help if it’s busy.’

‘We can take turns going over to make the breakfast, the cleaner will cope with the routine and finding someone to help with the bed-changes shouldn’t be hard,’ Alun said.

‘I wonder if young Seranne would help us for a while?’ Betty suggested. ‘She isn’t working so far as I know.’

‘I’ll ask.’

Betty dealt with the urgent post and settled the accounts of the few guests without difficulty. Alun went over each morning and together they cooked breakfast, leaving the dishes for the cleaner, before dashing back to the Ship to start on their own morning’s work. It was hectic at times but sharing the problems with Alun made it a joy rather than hard work. They dealt with everything together without having to make
arrangements
, slotting into the necessary chores with ease.

Ed stayed at the hospital, sitting in the uncomfortable waiting-room when he was not allowed in the ward – to the disapproval of the staff. Between visits he dashed home for bathing and changing his clothes and gave only a cursory glance at how Betty and Alun were coping. He did nothing to help, just left everything to Betty.

‘A thank you for what you’re doing for him would be nice,’ Alun said.

Betty shrugged. ‘Ed has always taken my help for granted.’

‘He treats you more like a devoted mother than a sister with a life of her own.’

‘I looked after him after our parents died. Too well, I suppose. I took on the role of mother instead of making him cope on his own. I thought perhaps he’d be different once he married but he’s still rather selfish – except with Elsie. He’s devoted to her. The way he is with me is my fault. The truth is, I was glad of him being here. I didn’t want to be on my own. A different kind of selfishness maybe?’

Seranne was near the café, looking through the window and watching the shadowy figure of Babs dashing in and out of the kitchen, obviously
without
help. Swallowing her pride and apprehension she went in.

‘Want any help?’ she asked.

‘You applying for the job?’ Babs said stiffly. ‘You have to come for an interview like all the rest, mind.’

‘Tomorrow all right? Then I can spend today showing you how good I am.’

‘There’s dishes want washing,’ Babs said gesturing towards the kitchen with a tilt of her head.

They worked together for the rest of the day and gradually relaxed into their old friendship. Whispering comments about some of the customers led to laughter and by the end of the day things were almost back to normal between them. As they cleared the last of the pots and pans Seranne asked, ‘Do I have the job?’

‘If you say you’re sorry I might consider it.’

Seranne laughed. ‘That’s what I said to your stupid brother!’

‘You’re right. He is stupid.’

‘I was too. I am sorry, Babs.’

‘I won’t be staying you know. It’s all too much for me. Accounts are a mystery for a start.’

‘I’ll help with those. We can do everything together.’ The mention of accounts took her mind back to her mother and Paul. ‘It’s my mother’s birthday on Monday, and as we close at three, will you come with me to see her? I won’t tell her we’re coming, it’ll be a nice surprise.’ Or a shock, she thought anxiously.

‘I’ll borrow the van,’ Babs said.

‘Did you know your Tony has invited me to the pictures?’

‘Wonderful, I always said he’ll make a good husband.’

‘He will, but not for me, so if he does make a date, why don’t you come with us?’

‘Play gooseberry? No fear!’

‘It will stop him getting the wrong idea,’ Seranne pleaded.

‘I’ll see. It depends what film you want to see.’

On the way to see her mother, Seranne told Babs that she was worried about how rundown the place had become and when they parked outside, she glanced at the unwashed windows with increasing concern. Only two tables were occupied, each with two women who had obviously
been shopping as their bags were beside them against the window.

Instead of going in through the side entrance they went straight into the tea rooms, Babs first. Paul and Pat Sewell were standing in a corner talking, heads close, Paul’s arm around Pat’s waist. Pretending not to see them, Seranne looked towards the kitchen.

‘Mum? Paul? Anyone about?’ The couple darted apart as though touched with an electric shock.

‘Seranne, what a lovely surprise.’

‘Oh, hello Paul, I didn’t see you there,’ she lied.

‘Jessie’s up in the flat, why don’t you go straight up? I’ll follow as soon as I’ve given Mrs Sewell her instructions.’

‘Remember my friend, Babs?’ Seranne’s heart was racing and her voice trembled high in her throat with the shock of what she had seen. She didn’t speak to Pat Sewell, her voice wouldn’t allow that. She was afraid she’d be sick if she even looked at the woman. Something was going on and it was more than the fading fortunes of the tea rooms. Don’t jump to conclusions, a voice inside her warned and by the time they had reached the flat she had a bit more control.

‘Hi Mum, happy birthday,’ she called. Her voice was still at the top of her throat and threatening to fail. But once she had handed her mother the parcel and flowers she had brought, her mother did the talking, then Babs joined in and she left them and busied herself making tea in the small kitchen of the flat.

She listened to the exclamations of delight as Jessie unpacked her parcels and the one brought by Babs. Paul came up with a few cakes and some dainty sandwiches on a tray. ‘I’ve just had to speak to Pat again about not washing the floor thoroughly,’ he said to Jessie. ‘I promise I was tactful though. I whispered so the customers didn’t here me telling her off.’

Seranne cringed at the feeble explanation he had offered in case they had been seen.

‘I’ll have to do more,’ Jessie said. ‘It’s been lovely having more time to enjoy, and I know you want to ease my load, but I miss it, darling. I really enjoyed baking and sandwich-making, serving friends and seeing customers enjoying what I do.’

‘You’ve worked hard for so long, it’s time you took things easy and that’s what I’m here for, to give you time to enjoy your life. Pat copes well enough – as long as I remind her of how you like things done, now and then.’

‘Any post for me, Mum?’ Seranne asked and was handed a few letters
from the box where her mother stored her mail. She glanced through. ‘Nothing of importance, but thanks for keeping it for me.’

Paul seemed reluctant to go back down to the café and Seranne became aware that he was following her as she walked around the flat and showed Babs her room. Opening the door to the back bedroom, she said, ‘This is the office where Mum and I used to deal with the accounts and orders. Are you still using the same wholesaler, Mum?’

As she walked towards the huge desk that had been her father’s, Paul quickly pulled her away and closed the door. ‘Don’t bother your mother with such things on her birthday, Seranne.’

‘Paul, what happened to the teapots and plates from the shelves in the tea rooms? Some of them were mine, given to me by my grandmother.’

‘Mrs Sewell took them down. She doesn’t have time for unnecessary ornaments.’

‘And the linen tablecloths?’

‘Old. Almost threadbare, we threw them out. Look, Seranne, none of this is your business any more.’

‘My mother will always be my business. Marrying you hasn’t changed that.’ She tried to ask her mother a few questions, but each time Paul answered for her, replying with the firm explanation that every change was to benefit Jessie.

Babs guessed what she was trying to do and she asked Paul to show her the tea rooms kitchen. ‘I run a small café myself you see and I’d be
grateful
for any tips you might have.’ Reluctantly he led her downstairs and into the kitchen.

‘Brr, it’s very cold in here, isn’t it?’ she remarked as they walked through the café which was now empty.

‘We’re having a bit of trouble with the electric fire,’ he explained. ‘Repairs are in hand, but the electrician is very busy.’

Ignoring his attempts to stop her she went to look at where the pretend log fire was plugged into the wall and saw that the flex near the plug was old and frayed. Paul stood at the doorway into the kitchen and he pointedly looked at his watch. ‘I’ve arranged an evening to celebrate Seranne’s mother’s birthday, Babs. I’m sorry but we’ll have to leave soon.’

After a few innocent comments about the layout of the room and its well-scrubbed table, and pretending not to notice the dirty floor and neglected cooker, Babs said, ‘I’m impressed with how well you organize your time, Paul. You work every day as well as help run this place, don’t you?’

‘Not any more. I gave it up to give Seranne’s mother a better life,’ he
said. ‘This is a second chance for Jessie and I want her to enjoy every moment.’

‘She’s a lucky lady,’ Babs smiled.

‘And I’m a lucky man,’ he said earnestly.

In the flat while her mother cleared the dishes, Seranne darted into the office and quickly looked through some of the most recent letters. There were reminders for unpaid bills and the wholesaler was not the one they had used for years.

‘Why aren’t these bills paid, Mum?’ she asked when her mother came to find her.

‘Oh, it’s nothing to worry about, dear. Paul says it isn’t good business practice to pay a bill before the final demand, money in our account instead of theirs or something. I hated doing all that after your father died and I’m happy to leave it to him now, after all, he owned his factory so he knows about business. Seranne, I’m so lucky.’

‘So is he, Mum,’ Seranne said, unaware of the similarity of Jessie’s and Paul’s remarks.

On the drive home Seranne and Babs compared notes. ‘There’s a cracked window in the kitchen and in the bathroom,’ Seranne reported. ‘The curtains in the café need a wash and the cheap, carelessly laundered tablecloths are a disgrace.’

‘The faulty heater in the café seriously needs attention,’ Babs warned. ‘And the kitchen wouldn’t pass your inspection or mine. Crumbs and flour on the floor and piled up in the corner as though it hadn’t been properly cleaned for days. A haven for mice and creepy-crawlies.’

‘What can I do?’

‘Wait a while. I can’t imagine your mother spending much longer sitting about being “spoilt” by Paul, who’s a bit of a creepy-crawly himself, don’t you think?’

‘Perhaps I should come home.’

‘A better idea would be to get your mother involved. She doesn’t seem aware of the state of the place.’

‘He seems to have changed her completely. Love is said to be blind, but surely she can’t look around and not see what happened to her once beautiful tea rooms?’

‘I’ve never understood that saying, unless it means that a person
needn’t
be beautiful to be loved.’

‘If Paul doesn’t have a job, what are they living on? The café can’t be taking enough to pay Pat Sewell and give them enough to live on. He must be using my mother’s money. Money left to her by my father. Blind?
She has to have gone crazy if she can’t see what he’s doing!’

Neither mentioned the closeness of Paul and Pat Sewell when they had made their unexpected entry. Seranne because she was desperately trying to persuade herself it was nothing important and Babs because she believed it was.