Page 31 of Welcome to Pennycress Inn

Jabbing the screwdriver in a little harder this time, Laura screamed and jumped back as a spurt of water sprayed her in the face.

‘No, no, no!’ She couldn’t have hit a pipe. She couldn’t have. The hole didn’t go that deep, just a centimetre or two at the most. There wouldn’t be a pipe there, and if there was, where would it be going? It was the hallway, not the kitchen or a bathroom.

She lifted her hands, quickly replacing them again as water shot out. She’d definitely hit a pipe, and it was definitely water. What now?

Pulling her mobile from her pocket, all thoughts of getting the screen covered with gloop gone, she kept one hand over where the water was escaping while attempting to scroll through the search engine to find a local plumber. Stabbing the call button, she held the phone against her ear.

‘Hello, Heale Plumbers Limited.’

‘Hi, I’ve got an emergency and need someone to come out now, please.’ She took a deep breath. She might as well tell them where she was ringing from. She really didn’t have the time to go through their pleasantries if they were just going to put the phone down on her once she’d told them. ‘It’s Pennycress Inn, Meadowfield.’

‘I’m sorry, all our plumbers are bus?—’

Ending the call, Laura scrolled through to the next one and the next one and the one after that, with all the same conclusions. Each either cutting the call dead or making excuses as to why they couldn’t send anyone to help.

She screamed, her voice echoing around the hallway. This could not be happening. She hadn’t done anything to deserve to be treated in this way. She hadn’t hurt anyone, she hadn’t turfed anyone out into the streets when she’d moved in. The inn had been empty for six months – empty! Why were people behaving this way towards her?

Laura raised her hand, ready to throw her mobile to the other side of the hall before thinking twice and holding its cool screenagainst her forehead. Taking deep breath after deep breath, she willed the gut-wrenching anger in the pit of her stomach to subside. It wasn’t going to help the situation.

Putting her mobile back in her pocket, she placed both hands on the spot the water was spraying from, pushing against it in the vain hope that… What? It would stop? She had no idea, but what else was she supposed to do?

Tentatively, she lifted her hands. The spray had turned into a gush. She must have made the crack in the pipe worse and the pressure at which the water was escaping had only increased.

Slamming her palms back on the wall to stem the flow, Laura laid her forehead against the wall and opened her mouth, a deep guttural cry of hopelessness escaping her lips. She couldn’t do this. What had she been thinking? She’d trained in admin, not hospitality, and however much research she’d crammed in before moving to Pennycress didn’t make her an expert, it didn’t make her capable of running this place, of fixing all the issues which came with it.

Although she hadn’t planned on taking on any DIY tasks. Yes, eventually she’d kind of thought she’d learn how to maintain the place just to save money, but not now, not straight away. Pennycress was supposed to have been ready to reopen. That’s why the contents had been sold along with the building, so the new owners could just move in and manage the place.

Broken guttering, loose tiles, woodworm, crumbling plaster and broken pipes weren’t part of the deal. She’d thought she’d been buying an inn ready to open and start earning money, not somewhere which needed practically rebuilding.

Without thinking, she lifted one hand to wipe the tears springing from her eyes with the back of her hand, only to get a face full of water.

Slumping her shoulders and resting her head in the crook of her elbows, she tried to think. Shedidneed to ring someoneto help, she couldn’t stay like this, in this position, forever. But who? She had no idea how far out the villagers had made a pact with traders not to do any work for her. She could be ringing round all evening and still get nowhere. She couldn’t ask Richie or her dad. They lived too far away and by the time they’d arrived the place would likely be flooded. So that left only one person.

Jackson.

Who she hadn’t spoken to since that weird moment in the garden. Who she’d heard sticking up for her in the pub. Who she had so many questions for, but all to which she didn’t want the answers.

She had no choice, though. She knew that.

Bracing herself, she took one hand off the wall and ducked out of the way of the oncoming water before pulling her phone out and ringing him.

‘Laura, hi. How are things? I was?—’

‘Jackson. I need your help. Right away.’ She swallowed, her voice hoarse. ‘Please.’

‘Oh, okay. I’ll pop round now.’ And then he was gone. The phone silent.

Letting her mobile drop onto the mounds of wallpaper covering the floor, Laura began to cry.

17

The feeble tune of the doorbell pierced the silence in the hallway and Laura looked towards the front door. ‘Jackson, is that you? Come on in, it’s open.’

‘Yes, it’s me,’ he called.

Laura watched as the front door inched open and Jackson stepped through, his jaw dropping as the door swung to a close behind him. She tried to wipe her face on the top of her arms. She’d prefer him to see her covered in plaster rather than spot the tears of self-pity drying on her cheeks. ‘Surprise,’ she muttered weakly.

‘Jeez, Laura. What’s happened here? It looks as though a herd of rabid goats have been let loose.’

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