Chapter 10

10

With the packet of sugar in her hand, Laura closed the door to the small grocery shop, glad to be outside. The atmosphere inside had been tense, to say the least. No one had returned any of her smiles or cheery ‘hellos’, not the other customers and not the man who had served her. And it hadn’t been her. She was sure of that. Yes, she was worried about the woodworm and how she was going to deal with it after ringing around numerous local pest control specialists who had all told her they were busy before she’d even had the chance to explain or ask for advice or anything, but she’d tried to be friendly in the shop, and she thought she had. There might be something odd about Meadowfield, the locals either hated outsiders or were just generally grumpy, but at least Jackson was here.

She shook her head and smiled. That was a thought she didn’t think she’d be having. Not after discovering he lived next door and all hopes of her fresh start had been squashed, but, at the moment, he was her only friend here, the only person who even seemed to want to utter two words to her.

Laura tapped her pocket, checking she still had Jackson’s credit card on her. At least she’d receive a warm welcome in the pub.

Reaching the pub, she swapped the sugar to the other hand. Despite the thick wooden door, she could hear the raucous laughter and chatter of people enjoying themselves inside. Pushing it open, she stepped into the warmth of the old place. Letting the door close softly shut behind her, she looked around. The highly polished bar ran across the back of the room and a fire roared in the fireplace at the far end. It was busy. The tables were almost all full and a cluster of people were standing around the bar. She glanced at her watch. It was already six o’clock. No wonder it was packed.

She pulled the card from her pocket and began weaving her way through the tables and chairs towards the bar. She frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. With each step she took, it was as though the pub grew quieter and she could feel people’s eyes upon her. Coming to a stop at the bar, she turned around, trying to catch somebody’s eye. Anybody’s eye. But as she looked about, she saw people turn away and talk to their companions, their voices low, too quiet for her to overhear.

Turning back, she looked across at the barman, trying to catch his attention. With each shop or, in this case, pub that she entered, she felt more and more uncomfortable. What did the local residents have against newcomers? She’d been the only one who had put an offer in at Pennycress, so it couldn’t be that someone else had wanted to buy it. She hadn’t bid above asking price or anything. In fact, she’d been told it had been languishing on the market for over six months and she wasn’t aware of there being any other interest. Normally, estate agents made it obvious if there was: they pushed for a quick sale and tried to hurry you to make a decision. That hadn’t happened with Pennycress. If anything, Ms Taunton had been laid-back, disinterested almost.

Placing the packet of sugar on the bar, Laura shook herself. People would warm to her. They’d soon see that she was here for the right reasons. It wasn’t as though she was part of a huge chain of hotels and had bought Pennycress to turn it into a carbon copy of another. No, she was here to open Pennycress Inn as it was. Well, once she’d cleared the garden, sorted the crumbling plaster, fixed the loose tile and got the rest of the roof checked. Oh, and got rid of the woodworm.

She sighed as she watched the barman walk past her and serve the man standing next to her. That was fine. He’d probably been waiting longer than her. She was just being paranoid.

She glanced up and down the bar. A couple were sitting on bar stools at the end, seemingly immersed in a private conversation. A group of three men chatted to each other to her right, one of them glancing at her before indicating an empty table by the window. After nodding in agreement, the other two picked up their pints and followed him.

Laura smiled as she noticed another customer who had been hidden behind the group of men. At last, a friendly face. Well, not especially friendly, but at least someone she recognised, Ms Taunton. She held up her hand. ‘Hi.’

Pursing her lips, Ms Taunton nodded in her direction before picking up her glass of wine and focusing on that, the conversation clearly over before it had begun.

Laura looked away. Ms Taunton’s reaction to her hadn’t been anything out of character. In all her dealings with the estate agent, Laura didn’t think she’d once seen her smile.

A door behind the bar swung open and Laura recognised Jackson’s voice before she saw him.

‘Two beef wellingtons and mash.’ Stepping out into the area behind the bar, Jackson held up two plates of food, steam rising from them, and passed them across to the barman.

‘Jackson.’ Ms Taunton held her glass towards him, her face relaxing at the sight of him.

Laura watched as Jackson walked across to her, chatting quietly. Had that actually been a smile? Had Ms Taunton smiled at him? She waited as Ms Taunton spoke to him before Jackson glanced up and down the bar area, his eyes meeting hers before a grin slowly spread across his face.

Turning back to Ms Taunton, Jackson said something before walking across to her. ‘Hey, Laura, decided to check out the local pub then? What can I get you?’

‘Oh, I’ve just come to give you this.’ She quickly looked across at Ms Taunton, who met her gaze and glared at her, before passing across the card. Yep, she definitely wasn’t about to stay and order food. Or even a drink, for that matter. ‘It must have fallen out of your pocket or something when you were helping with the washing machine.’

‘Oh fab. I wondered where that was.’ Taking the card, Jackson pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and slipped it inside. ‘I’d assumed Eden had picked it up when she’d been playing shops earlier.’

‘No worries. Sorry, I would have brought it down earlier, but I only realised it was there because Tammy found it.’

‘Oh, Jenny’s visited?’ Placing his elbows on the bar, he leaned his forearms across the wood.

‘Yes, they popped in very briefly earlier.’ Laura shifted position. ‘It didn’t end well though, poor little Toby?—’

‘Jackson, two pie and mash and another beef wellington please, mate.’ The barman held his hand up and brandished a small slip of paper.

‘Right, boss.’ Jackson held his hand up, indicating he’d got the orders before straightening his back. ‘Sorry, I’d better get on. Tell me about it later, though?’

‘Yep, of course.’ Nodding, Laura turned.

‘Oh, hold on. You have…’ Jackson spoke softly and reached across the bar, pulling something from her jumper.

Turning back, she grimaced as she realised it had been a strand of ivy Jackson had pulled off. She must have been walking around with it hanging from her since doing the gardening. No wonder she’d been getting funny looks.