The Golden Oldies Guesthouse (ARC) Page 6

  Orla’s daughter-in-law had changed her mind about taking over the shop. They couldn’t do made-to-measure outfits any more now that Tess had gone, for one thing, and for another, Orla and Lauren had never really got on, so they had decided to close down the business, and the shop was now up for rent. Tess had felt very nostalgic for some weeks, but had come to accept that changes happen and life moves on. However, Orla had wasted no time in finding a job for two days a week in Milbury’s one and only department store, selling hats. And so successful was she in the short time she was there that they’d asked her if she’d consider working full time, in spite of being sixty-five. But Orla liked working two days a week and had said to Tess, ‘Sure, now I’ll be able to pop down to the wild west occasionally and give you a hand.’

  Tess missed Orla’s banter, her arguing and her humour. With Simon away this would have been an ideal opportunity for Orla to keep her company – if only there was somewhere she could sleep. Tess didn’t think Orla would relish a few nights on the rock-hard settee that served as the extra double bed in Windsor Castle. Neither was she likely to relish dashing across to Over and Above in the early morning for a half decent shower before the workmen arrived at eight o’clock. If it hadn’t been for the workmen and her constant duties as tea-maker, she could have gone up to London with Simon and spent a few nights with Orla. And seen her family. She missed Amber, and Matt, and the grandchildren.

  Now, as Tess lay in the dark listening to the strange noises in the night, for the first time she began to wonder why on earth she’d ever agreed to come down to this godforsaken place. She was missing Simon dreadfully; she hadn’t realised quite how much she’d come to need him. But, never mind, he’d be back soon, and between them they were going to make a success of Over and Above.

  In spite of feeling positive, it still took a very long time to get to sleep.

  7

  HOMECOMING

  Tess spent the best part of a week sleeping badly, jumping at every unfamiliar noise in the night, waiting to be murdered in her bed. Days were spent attempting to clear away some of the dust and debris in the kitchen, where the door opening into the new dining room was now complete. At some point the electrician would come in to connect the cooker and wire in power points for all the kitchen equipment. And more dust and debris was floating around upstairs because Pong and Pip were still hammering and drilling away.

  Simon, in the meantime, was doing a TV commercial for gin, with doubtless much sampling of the product, plus voice-overs for a holiday company and a double-glazing firm. All involved drinks and dinners in the evenings. He was having a whale of a time.

  On the third day of his absence Tess decided she’d need to visit Pearly’s as she’d run out of teabags and milk. It was a pleasant walk down to the shop, although Tess rather dreaded the uphill return journey.

  As she walked through the door of the shop she was aware of a heated argument taking place between Pearly and a small dark-haired woman who was waving a box of cornflakes in the air. This woman was yelling, ‘You’ve put your prices up again, Pearly! And it’s not on! Do you know, it’s cheaper for me to go on the bus to Tesco and back, even if I have to spend the night at my brother’s, than it is for me to shop here?’

  ‘Well, go to bloody Tesco’s then!’ Pearly yelled back, red-faced, her grey corrugated waves quivering with anger. ‘See if I bloody—’ She stopped in mid-flow and switched on a smile. ‘Oh, Mrs Sparrow, how nice to see you! Now, what can I do for you?’

  ‘What can she do you for, more like!’ the dark-haired woman said to Tess.

  Tess felt embarrassed. ‘Um, perhaps I’ve come in at the wrong time?’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Pearly. ‘Mrs Pengilly was just off to Tesco’s.’

  With that, Mrs Pengilly slammed the box of cornflakes back on the counter and stomped out of the shop.

  As Tess bought the items she wanted she observed Pearly’s nostrils were still flared in anger and her large bosom – today clad in a bright pink hand-knitted cardigan – was heaving. She kept throwing evil looks at the door. For once Pearly wasn’t in the mood for gossip other than saying, ‘Don’t pay no attention to that miserable cow! How am I supposed to survive when my deliveries have to come all the way from Plymouth and they charge me a fortune ’cos I live here. Of course I’ve got to charge more than bloody Tesco! “Convenience Store” it says above the door, don’t it? And that’s what people have to pay for: the convenience.’

  ‘Quite so,’ agreed Tess, looking to make a quick escape.

  As she left the shop she found Mrs Pengilly waiting outside.

  ‘Don’t tell that woman a thing!’ she instructed Tess. ‘She’ll have it all round the village in no time. And as for her prices – well!’ She shook her head in despair.

  ‘I only come down here very occasionally,’ Tess said. ‘I’m not really a regular customer but my husband’s away on business with the car and needs must.’

  ‘Greedy old bat she is,’ said Mrs Pengilly. She held out her hand. ‘Gina Pengilly.’

  ‘Tess Sparrow.’

  They shook hands and Gina Pengilly said, ‘Are you the folks that’s bought Over and Above?’

  ‘That’s us,’ replied Tess.

  ‘Well, you can’t be walking up that lane with all that heavy shopping. Bob’ll be here in a minute and we’ll give you a lift.’

  ‘Oh, I’m fine, Mrs Pengilly, really…’

  ‘Nonsense! We live up at the top of Seagull Hill so we’re going right past your place. And you call me Gina.’

  At that moment a large white van, with ‘Pengilly Electrics’ emblazoned in blue paint on the side, drew up.

  ‘You sit in the front there with Bob,’ ordered Gina. ‘There’s a little seat behind I can squeeze into. Bob, this is Tess, who’s bought the old Cliff House – Over and Above, or whatever they call it these days.’

  Bob, who appeared to be in his sixties, was bald as a coot but sported a luxuriant moustache.

  ‘We’re passing by the end of your drive anyway,’ he said.

  As Tess got gratefully into the front seat, her groceries balanced on the floor between her ankles, he asked, ‘How are you settling in?’

  ‘Well, we’re not actually in yet,’ Tess replied. ‘We’re having masses of work done and so we’ve got ourselves a little caravan to live in while the house is being ripped to pieces. And my husband’s had to go up to London so I’m without wheels at the moment.’

  ‘It’s never been looked after proper, that place,’ said Bob as they headed towards Seagull Hill. ‘Shouldn’t think the electrics have been updated in years. The old girl who spent her life there never did a thing and then some young couple bought the place and hardly ever came near it.’

  ‘They did begin to update the electrics,’ Tess said, ‘but they didn’t get very far.’

  As he pulled up opposite the driveway to Over and Above she said, ‘You’re very welcome to come in and have a look if you’d like to. If you don’t mind dust, that is.’

  ‘Quite used to dust,’ said Bob, making a quick right turn up the drive.

  ‘Nice old house,’ commented Gina as they got out of the van.

  As Tess led the way through the front door and turned right into the kitchen, she said, ‘This is the only room we’re using because the other downstairs rooms are piled high with furniture.’

  ‘You haven’t got any units,’ Gina said, looking around.

  ‘We’re going to order them just as soon as Simon gets back. But we’ve just bought a lovely double-range cooker and, once I get that installed, at least I can begin to cook properly.’

  Bob was scratching his head as he studied the two power points. ‘You’re going to need a load more of these,’ he said. ‘You got someone lined up to do it?’

  ‘Well, I know Simon was talking to someone called Tom, but I don’t think they agreed a date or anything.’

  ‘You don’t want him!’ Bob said. ‘He’ll have the place up in smoke. Now, I’ll be
free dreckly, most likely in a couple of weeks, so perhaps I can have a word when your husband gets back?’

  ‘And you might need a hand with the cleaning,’ Gina put in. ‘I do early mornings down the pub but I could come in afterwards. If you wanted me, that is.’

  Tess felt overwhelmed by these offers of help, but she and Simon had to discuss money with them before any decision could be made. But she liked them both and felt sure they wouldn’t overcharge. She opened the door to what Simon insisted on calling the boot room.

  ‘This,’ she said, ‘will be the utility area and laundry room and we’re having a toilet installed as well. And this,’ she indicated with pride, ‘is my lovely new big cooker.’

  ‘Want me to wire that in for you?’ asked Bob.

  ‘That would be wonderful. When could you do it?’

  ‘No time like the present,’ said Bob. ‘But I’ll need a bit of help to move it. You know where it’s to go?’

  ‘Oh yes!’ Tess replied. ‘I know exactly where I want it to go.’

  ‘You got someone working upstairs?’

  ‘Yes, Nick Norris and his brother are making doorways and things.’

  Bob rolled his eyes. ‘As long as you’re not in a hurry. Not known for speed, that pair. Anyway, I’ll get those two buggers down here and we’ll have your cooker in place in no time.’

  With that he headed towards the stairs and Gina said, ‘You got hot water here?’

  ‘Yes,’ Tess said. ‘There’s an immersion heater.’

  ‘Right, I’ll give that floor a bit of a wash before they put the cooker on it.’ And without further ado Gina had spotted a pail and was filling it up with cleaner and hot water.

  ‘I can’t let you do this,’ Tess protested.

  ‘Yeah, you can. You just put the kettle on because we’re all going to be needing a cup of tea when we’ve finished.’ And she began to mop the floor.

  An hour later the cooker was in place, duly connected and working, and everyone was sitting round the table drinking tea and eating chocolate biscuits. For the first time Tess felt she’d made some friends and she had the beginnings of a kitchen.

  She thanked the Pengillys profusely and, as they left, she took Bob’s card and made a note of Gina’s mobile number.

  * * *

  Simon’s ‘few days away’ had stretched to a week. Tess wondered why on earth she hadn’t let him fly up to London as he’d originally suggested as she not only missed him, but she missed the car. She felt marooned and lonely, and not a little frightened at night. In his absence, though, Tess had finished making curtains for the sitting room and dining room, and was studying paint charts in detail so that they could begin to decorate. She’d christened the cooker and worked out exactly how many kitchen units they’d need. And when he got back – if he ever got back – the house should be ready for the plumbing and electrics. More dust and more chaos. And, as Christmas was fast approaching, every tradesman around would down tools for the two-week break. Would they ever be able to welcome guests in the spring? she wondered.

  Then, on Day Six of his absence, she had a call from Simon mid-morning.

  ‘Darling, I’ve just left London behind, and I’ve stopped for fuel on the M3. I should be home by early afternoon. Lots to tell you!’

  ‘And I’ve lots to tell you,’ Tess replied with feeling, vowing never again to be without transport on her own in this place. Or lie tossing and turning half the night in Windsor Castle listening to weird night-time noises, terrified that someone was prowling outside preparing to murder her. She could laugh at herself during the day but it was altogether different at night. And not helped by Dylan, who, in the manner of all felines, would suddenly stare wide-eyed at a window or the door. What was he seeing or hearing? A massive rat, a peeping Tom or an axe murderer? But Dylan just yawned and settled himself down again to sleep.

  And so, for all these reasons and not least because Tess loved and missed her husband, she waited anxiously for the yellow Stag to reappear in the drive. Instead, just before three o’clock, a large dusty blue Land Rover pulled up outside. Who was this? she wondered, as she popped a casserole into one of her ovens. Whoever it was had parked in the exact spot where they parked the Stag and Simon would be back any moment. Tess wiped her hands and headed out of the door.

  And there was her husband, leaping out of the driving seat, grinning from ear to ear.

  ‘Simon! What on earth…?’

  ‘Like it?’ Simon asked as he hugged and kissed her. ‘Great to be home! I’ve missed you so much!’

  ‘Not as much as I’ve missed you,’ Tess said as she extricated herself from his embrace. ‘But what’s with the Land Rover? Where’s the Stag?’

  ‘I’ve left the Stag in Twickenham,’ Simon replied. ‘One of the sound engineers fell madly in love with it and wants to do it up. He offered me a ridiculous amount of money – an offer I really couldn’t refuse. But I must admit I shed a tear. Still, I know it will be loved by this guy. Evan, he was called. Welsh.’

  ‘But, where did this come from?’ Tess ran her hand along the Land Rover’s dusty blue bodywork. It looked lofty and rather forbidding after the Stag.

  ‘Ah, yes, well.’ Simon put his arm round her waist. ‘The girl who was doing my make-up for the commercial was telling me all about her sister and family who’re leaving to live in Australia. Apparently, the husband’s landed a fantastic job and the company want him out there pronto! Like yesterday! So everything’s had to be packed up and sold off double quick. And this motor, would you believe, was only used to ferry the two kids around. I ask you, in London! These people with their Chelsea tractors! It’s a few years old but, look, it’s built to last and it’s almost immaculate apart from a few dents here and there. School parking, most likely. It all adds to the character, and what’s a Land Rover without a few dents?’

  ‘Wow!’ exclaimed Tess, wondering how much of a hole in their budget this purchase had made.

  ‘With what I’m getting paid for the commercials, plus what I got for the Stag, we should only be a thousand or so poorer,’ Simon said airily.

  A thousand or so, thought Tess. It was the ‘or so’ that worried her, particularly added on to what they’d paid for Windsor Castle, bearing in mind they couldn’t afford to spend anything that didn’t contribute to the costs of renovating the house. However, they did need sensible transport and this certainly looked sturdy.

  ‘Hey!’ he said, as he followed her into the kitchen. ‘The cooker’s installed! And you’ve got something cooking in there!’

  ‘Yes – and yes,’ Tess replied, and went on to tell him about her encounter with the Pengillys. ‘I think we might ask Bob to do our electrics,’ she concluded.

  ‘They sound heaven sent,’ declared Simon.

  Bob Pengilly said he’d be delighted to do their electrics if they could wait another couple of weeks. And he’d try to get most of it done before Christmas. However, the plumbing was the next major job with three bedrooms waiting to be transformed into en suite bathrooms, plus a downstairs toilet – and now they’d decided to have a small en suite of their own installed in what was to become their bedroom. More drilling, more hammering, more dust.

  Tess decided it would be a good idea to invite Gina and Bob down for coffee on the Sunday morning and hoped that Simon and Bob would get along. She thought they would.

  They duly arrived, Gina producing a box of ginger snaps. ‘We love them,’ she said as she handed them to Tess. ‘We dunk them in our tea, coffee, anything.’

  And Tess was right. Simon and Bob struck up an immediate rapport, due in no small part to the fact that Bob was a TV addict and Simon had worked with several of the actors that Bob was particularly in awe of. In fact, it took some time before electrics were discussed at all. And, while the men were discussing TV, Gina was telling Tess that they had four sons, three of whom had moved away up to the South-East because there was little work in Cornwall. All except Denis, who was an electrician, too, and who lived �
��up in Devon’. She made Devon sound like a foreign country and the South-East akin to the moon.

  After a further half hour of constant chatter, Simon produced a bottle of wine and Tess made some cheese omelettes.

  ‘We didn’t mean for you to do all this,’ Gina protested. ‘We’re having a roast later.’

  ‘So are we, it’s only a snack,’ Tess said.

  More chatter followed. Gina said that she and her brother had been born in Falmouth where their father was a boat builder and their Spanish-born mother had come to work as a chambermaid in one of the big hotels. Gina had married young, having met Bob at a dance in Truro, and had had countless cleaning jobs while the boys were growing up. ‘If you ever need a hand round here…’ she added.

  Do I need a hand round here? Tess thought. I could do with an army of hands round here!

  All in all it had been a very successful visit. And this was more like the new beginning she had been hoping for.

  8

  A CORNISH CHRISTMAS EVE

  Somewhere, at some time, Tess had a vague recollection of having said to Matt and Amber – and possibly Orla, too – something like, ‘You must all come down to us for Christmas, see what we’ve saddled ourselves with!’ In her innocence she’d been sure that most of the work would be well under way, if not finished, and she had visions of an enormous tree, laden country-style with little red apples and pine cones perhaps, and aglow with lights. Positioned, of course, by the French windows in the sitting room. Yes, the old windows would probably still be there but she’d made heavily lined and insulated curtains for those rooms and so, with the open fire, it would be cosy. That was what she’d thought.