The Golden Oldies Guesthouse (ARC) Read online

  That much was obvious; Tess shivered.

  ‘So wot can I do fer you?’

  ‘Jed, at The Portmerryn Arms, suggested we see you,’ Simon said, ‘because we’re going to need something to live in while our house gets renovated.’

  Jacko stroked his chin. ‘How’s old Jed these days? Not seen him in months.’

  ‘He’s fine. We’re looking for a caravan of some sort,’ Simon persisted.

  ‘OK, then, so how much you lookin’ to spend?’

  ‘As little as possible,’ Tess said, ‘So long as it’s weatherproof.’

  Jacko looked at them up and down. ‘Just the two of you?’

  ‘Just the two of us.’

  He led the way past a ramshackle shed – which appeared to serve as a workshop – to where there was a cluster of about a dozen small touring caravans.

  ‘Right, well, I’ve got a nice little tourer here. Seats make up to a double bed. Gas heater, sink, fridge, chemical toilet. Dirt cheap.’

  Tess and Simon looked at the caravan, and then at each other. It reminded Tess of a mushroom.

  ‘I think we were planning on something a little larger,’ Simon said, ‘as we’re both quite tall. Have you got something where the sleeping quarters are separate from the living area, so we don’t have to make the bed up every night?’

  Jacko sniffed. ‘I got every size here. Wot you plannin’ to do with it afterwards?’

  Simon shrugged.

  ‘I thought we’d keep it as extra accommodation for family and friends,’ Tess said.

  ‘In that case,’ said Jacko, ‘Ye’ll be needin’ a four berth with a shower an’ all.’

  ‘We do?’ Simon asked doubtfully.

  ‘Yes, we do,’ Tess confirmed, thinking of Matt, Lisa and the grandchildren.

  Jacko rounded the corner, beckoning them to follow, to where half a dozen large models were parked in a semi-circle.

  ‘This one here,’ he said, pointing to one in the middle, ‘is a lovely van, but an absolute bugger to tow. You wouldn’t be towin’ it, though, would you?’

  ‘So how would I be able to get it out of here?’ Simon asked.

  ‘Aw, we can arrange that. Nothin’ wrong with it, you understand? Been on a holiday site for years. I can let you have it dirt cheap.’

  ‘What about planning permission?’ Tess said.

  ‘No need, as long as you keep the wheels on and move it about a bit occasionally it’ll be OK. Temporary accommodation and all that; everyone does it,’ Jacko reassured them as he headed towards the door which was situated in the centre. ‘Follow me!’ He pulled down a couple of steps, jumped in and turned left. They followed him into what was apparently the lounge, with a padded seating area round the front window and a table in the middle. ‘Makes into a double bed,’ he informed them.

  There was a small compact kitchen comprising a sink, some work surfaces, a hob, an oven and a built-in fridge. It appeared to be clean and functional, if not spacious. Then, at the rear, was a tiny toilet and shower room, and a bedroom complete with double bed and a fair-sized wardrobe.

  ‘Everythin’ you could want,’ said Jacko.

  Tess had already mentally got out her sewing machine, replacing the ugly curtains, making cushion covers and bedspreads. It could, she felt sure, be made cosy and comfortable.

  ‘Hmmm,’ Simon said doubtfully. ‘What about facilities?’

  ‘You can connect it to your mains water with a hose,’ said Jacko. ‘You got a great storage tank so you can keep it topped up. I got some good hoses here, special price.’

  ‘No, we’ve got one somewhere,’ Simon said, stroking his beard.

  ‘It all runs on bottled gas,’ Jacko continued. ‘I’ve got them cylinders here. Tell you what, you buy this and I’ll throw in a gas cylinder for free. And you can connect to the electricity supply for a heater and the telly and all that. It’ll heat up ever so quick.’

  The price was manageable. Just. Tess looked at Simon who sighed and said, ‘Well, we can’t afford to spend a penny more than this, not with all the bills we’re going to be paying.’ He turned to Jacko. ‘Any chance of a discount?’

  Jacko sucked his teeth. ‘It’s rock bottom price already. Tell you what, as well as the gas cylinder I’ll get it delivered to you for free. How about that?’

  There followed several minutes of haggling, humming and hawing, but Jacko wouldn’t be moved an inch. ‘Delivered to your door,’ he repeated. And, since there was no way they could even begin to imagine towing this great big thing along the country lanes, they accepted the deal.

  ‘We’ll freeze to death,’ Simon predicted gloomily.

  ‘Like I told you; run a cable out from the house and you can have electric heaters as well as the gas fire. Ye’ll be snug as a bug in a rug.’

  ‘We’re bloody mad!’ Simon said as they drove back towards Portmerryn.

  ‘No, we’re not!’ Tess retorted. ‘You know we can’t live in the house all winter with no heating and an army of builders and plumbers and electricians. And like I said, we can make the caravan nice and afterwards it’ll be extra accommodation. And there’s a concrete base on the far side of the garage, behind the trees, where we can park it and it’ll be out of sight.’ Tess looked thoughtful. ‘We must give it a name.’

  ‘I’m sure we’ll think of something,’ said Simon.

  * * *

  Two days later the caravan arrived, delivered on a low loader by Windsor Brothers Transport Services.

  A giant appeared on their doorstep at 11 a.m. He was at least seven feet tall, Tess reckoned, and built like a weightlifter. The type you see on TV pulling a bus or something and not necessarily someone you’d want to annoy.

  ‘Where’s this bleedin’ caravan supposed to be goin’ then, missus?’

  Before Tess could reply, Simon appeared. ‘Follow me,’ he said.

  As the giant trudged after Simon into the undergrowth, a second giant appeared and followed them. Tess stared in amazement; were they twins? Her husband was over six feet tall but he was dwarfed by these two. Slightly concerned for his safety, she followed them along the newly cleared path.

  ‘I’ve taken out some bushes,’ Simon said, ‘so you should be able to get it in all right. There’s a bit of a hard standing here, you see.’

  The first giant growled. ‘We’ll have to take out a bit more.’

  The second giant said, ‘I’ll get the chopper.’

  ‘Won’t you need a spade or something?’ Simon asked tentatively. ‘I’ve got some tools and gardening stuff in the garage.’

  ‘No worries, mister,’ said the first giant. ‘Ed’ll bring the chopper.’

  As if on cue, Ed reappeared with an enormous axe, causing both Tess and Simon to gravitate together nervously and step well out of the way.

  ‘This should do it,’ said Ed and, with one almighty swipe, an enormous holly bush was felled, flattened to the ground.

  ‘That’s better,’ said the first giant.

  Tess had rather liked the holly bush but thought it politic not to mention this.

  ‘Should be able to get it in easy now,’ said the second giant, Ed.

  ‘I’ll go get it then,’ said the first giant, and they both headed towards the trailer.

  Tess stifled a giggle. ‘Do you think they’re going to carry it in?’

  ‘It wouldn’t surprise me,’ Simon muttered.

  In fact, the giants had a sturdy little tractor-type machine with which they expertly manoeuvred the caravan onto the hard standing. Ed lit a cigarette and said, ‘Anythin’ you want movin’, just give us a call!’ He handed a card to Simon and then went to help his brother stabilise the caravan. It was all done in a matter of minutes, and then the little truck was delivered back onto the trailer. Tess offered tea.

  ‘No thanks, missus. We got some dodgy cars to pick up from Bodmin and we’re running late.’

  With that, Al got into the driving seat while Ed shouted instructions: ‘Woah! Right a bit!’ and ‘Straighten up
!’ and ‘Left hand down!’ Then he jumped into the passenger seat, gave them a cheery wave, and the Windsor brothers were gone, rattling their way to Bodmin.

  Tess could hardly wait to inspect their new acquisition. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘welcome to Windsor Castle!’

  ‘Am I supposed to carry Your Majesty over the threshold then?’ Simon asked.

  ‘Probably not a good idea. The door’s a bit narrow. I think we should christen it, though.’

  ‘I’ll check the booze in the garage,’ Simon said, ‘and find a bottle of something fizzy, if you can dig out a couple of glasses.’

  He reappeared a few minutes later clutching a bottle of Prosecco. ‘There’s some Moët in there somewhere,’ he said, ‘but perhaps we’ll save that for later.’

  ‘Prosecco will be fine,’ said Tess as the cork popped.

  5

  GETTING IT TOGETHER

  Over and Above was never going to be cosy but Tess hoped it could be made elegant and beautiful once the roofer, the builder, the plumber, the electrician and the interior designer (herself) had done their bit – and one thing was for sure, there was a lot of bits to be done. They soon learned time was of little importance down here: ‘be with you dreckly we’ve finished wot we’re doin’ now’ was a standard answer. ‘Dreckly’ could only be compared to the Spanish ‘mañana’, but without the urgency.

  Ron the roofer, due to commence work on a Monday morning, arrived on Wednesday afternoon. No proper explanation was offered, just a few grunts about emergencies. After the building work was completed the plumber and the electrician would move in. Plumbing would be a major operation as, apart from the new bathrooms, central heating had to be installed. There was of course no mains gas, so they decided on oil-fired heating, which would involve having an oil storage tank somewhere in the garden. Meanwhile, Simon found a tap outside the garage to which he attached a long hose to simplify replenishing the supply of water at Windsor Castle. He then went in search of an equally long outdoor cable with which to transport electricity. And, while all this was taking place, Tess spent an entire day measuring windows and finally took herself off to Truro in the hunt for metres of furnishing fabrics, hoping that somewhere in the house she might find a quiet corner near one of the precious power points where she could plug in her sewing machine and begin weeks of curtain making.

  But first she needed to liven up the drab interior of their temporary home with bright curtains, cushions and rugs. And so began the arguments as to who could have the car; whose need was greater, whose shopping was more urgent.

  ‘You can’t have the car today,’ Simon announced at breakfast one morning. ‘I’ve got to go to the builders’ merchants.’

  It was the day Tess had planned to pick up a mountain of fabric she’d ordered. ‘But I’ve told them I’d collect it today!’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry, but the building materials are far more important.’

  Not for the first time Tess wished she’d kept her old Ford Focus. When she and Simon got married they decided one car was quite sufficient in London, particularly as they had neither garage nor allocated parking space. She wondered if she dared suggest buying another car, but that didn’t seem too brilliant an idea when they’d just bought a caravan and money was tight anyway. But much as she loved their sporty old Stag, the car was not practical for country living, for potholed roads and for transporting building materials. They should trade it in for an off-road vehicle, a sturdy four-by-four with a seat high enough to see over the top of the hedges. Surely Simon would realise this himself sooner or later?

  In her innocence she’d asked Jed at the pub, ‘Are there any buses from here to Truro? From here to anywhere? Wadebridge? Bude?’

  ‘Buses!’ snorted Jed, which drew much guffawing all round. ‘Yeah, you can get one Monday, Wednesday and Friday wot’ll get you to Wadebridge and you can get a connection from there to most places. Just as long as you don’t want to come back on the same day!’ More gales of laughter.

  Tess phoned the fabric shop and explained that – due to her domineering selfish husband – she would not be picking up the fabric until later in the week. And, for the first time since they married, she was aware of friction between herself and Simon. Their blissful honeymoon period was beginning to wear off.

  * * *

  They’d been at Over and Above almost a month and it was an occasion when Simon had gone off with the Stag to the builders’ merchants that Tess decided to check out the village shop. She’d driven past it on the coast road half a mile or so beyond The Portmerryn Arms, and she reckoned it was a walkable distance. In fact, it took the best part of thirty minutes and was run by a generously proportioned lady in her sixties, with corrugated grey waves in her hair, and a penchant for hand-knitted cardigans. She was known as Pearly.

  ‘As in pearly gates,’ Simon had scoffed when they first heard of her existence.

  This Pearly was the gateway to all local gossip and goings-on which she related in detail to anyone who cared to listen. Pearly not only sold groceries, but she sold paraffin and firelighters as well, ran the post office, sold lottery tickets and took in dry-cleaning.

  Tess pushed her way past the usual collection of buckets and spades, crab lines, cheap body boards and all the luridly coloured paraphernalia required by holidaying families. The shop seemed rather dark inside, brightened mainly by Pearly, in a lime green knitted cardigan, erecting a pyramid of baked beans on one end of the counter. On the other end was a large, slightly cross-eyed teddy bear which was one of the sought-after prizes in the local raffle.

  ‘Only one pound each,’ said Pearly, waving the book of tickets hopefully at her new customer.

  Tess could decipher a faint smell of paraffin mixed with TCP as she introduced herself.

  ‘You’ll get all the weather up there on that cliff,’ Pearly informed Tess cheerfully. ‘Comes in ’orizontal it does, right off the sea. Not so bad down ’ere, thank the lord. Someone said your ’usband’s an actor, is that right? Wot’s ’e been in? Not in Coronation Street, is ’e? Or Emmerdale?’ When Tess shook her head Pearly immediately lost interest in actors. ‘So wot you going to be doing down ’ere? B&Bs? Well, you’ll need plenty of bacon and sausages and all that so we can set up an arrangement dreckly and I’ll do you a good price.’

  Tess, who’d planned to stock up the freezer with breakfast fodder from the nearest Cash and Carry, nodded politely, noting Pearly’s inflated prices. As she backed out of the door, Pearly asked, ‘You been in the pub yet? My cider’s cheaper than theirs. They’re all right, though, Jed and Annie, but that Gideon’s forty if he’s a day and still livin’ off his parents and doin’ next to nothin’. Still. You got family?’

  And so on, and so on. Tess vowed to give Pearly a wide berth. Emergency use only.

  * * *

  When she got home Tess realised she was desperately in need of a chat with Orla. She missed her friend and the banter they always enjoyed.

  ‘Hi, it’s me!’

  ‘Well, well,’ said Orla, ‘if it’s not a voice from the wild west! How is it down there?’

  ‘Oh, it’s fine,’ Tess replied. ‘Just a bit fed up with my husband at the moment.’

  Orla snorted. ‘So the honeymoon is finally over, is it? What’s the smarmy bugger up to?’

  ‘He’s not a smarmy bugger, Orla, and he’s not up to anything. Just being a bit selfish, particularly about the car.’

  ‘Ah well, he’s a fella. They’re all selfish,’ said Orla. ‘You should know that by now.’

  ‘It’s just that living here you need to have a car all the time. And we keep arguing about whose need matters most. Oh, it all sounds so petty when I talk about it to you!’

  ‘Well, it’s hardly world-shattering stuff, Tess. And all you need to do is get yourselves another car, isn’t it? Couldn’t you write it off to tax or something? After all, you are supposedly running a business.’

  ‘We will be,’ Tess said, feeling a little better.

 
‘Now, tell me about all the cowboys who’re knocking your house to bits!’

  And, as Tess told Orla about the workmen’s comings and goings, about the caravan, and about the village shop, she found she was giggling and she felt better.

  * * *

  There followed weeks of banging, crashing, shouting and intermittent swearing, with masonry dust everywhere. They abandoned their sea view bedroom, Tess stripped the bed, covered it in plastic sheeting and moved into Windsor Castle, her idea of a quiet sewing corner in Over and Above swept away with the layers of dust. The needlework would have to take place in Windsor Castle if Simon ever got the electric cable in position.

  It was wet and windy on the first night and, although situated in the trees, the caravan rocked a little at times. Tess sat up in their small double bed and listened to the rain drumming on the roof while the candles flickered.

  ‘Isn’t this cosy?’ Simon said, snuggling up to her.

  ‘It’s scary,’ Tess said. ‘This thing is swaying!’

  ‘It’s quite safe,’ soothed her husband. ‘And I do think we should christen our little castle, like now!’

  Afterwards Simon asked, ‘Did the earth move for you, my darling?’

  ‘Well it’s for sure something moved,’ Tess replied truthfully.

  * * *

  Two days later, Simon finally succeeded in connecting the bright orange electric cable from the house to the caravan, thus providing light, heat and television. It gave Tess the ability to sew during the day while Simon made endless sketches of kitchen layouts when not getting in the way of the workmen. And luck was with them as far as Tess’s desire for a range cooker was concerned, because Annie at the pub knew someone who was selling her B&B and most of the stuff it contained.

  ‘You go over there an’ have a look,’ she told Tess. ‘Sale starts Thursday so you want to go over there Wednesday an’ make some excuse about not bein’ able to get there next day. That way you’ll get the pick, if she agrees to sellin’.’