Page 43 of Welcome to Pennycress Inn

Turning on the spot, she stepped down from the shallow step. Just because she’d chickened out this time, it didn’t mean she couldn’t try again, tomorrow perhaps, or the next day. Or next week even. She froze as she heard the front door open behind her.

‘Hello, can I help you, dear?’ The voice was calm, friendly maybe.

Laura turned slowly and saw a slight woman, with her white hair neatly curled, wearing a yellow cardigan almost as pale as her front door. ‘Hi.’

‘What can I do for you?’ The woman smiled, laughter lines deepening around her eyes as she did so.

‘I…’ She’d got this far. She might as well come out and tell her who she was. ‘Are you Vivienne Fields?’

‘Last time I checked, I am.’ The woman’s smile broadened.

Laura nodded. She needed to introduce herself now or the whole visit would be a waste. Opening her mouth, she blurted it out, ‘My name’s Laura Price and I’ve bought Pennycress Inn.’

Vivienne staggered back and held the palms of her hands against her cheeks.

‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have come. I knew it was a bad idea. I just didn’t know what else to do.’ The last thing she’d wanted was to give the villagers any more ammunition to hold against her. And she clearly had by upsetting the very person they felt they were sticking up for. She should have followed her first instinct to stay away. Stepping back, Laura went to turn around again.

‘Why don’t you come in, dear?’

‘Come in?’ Twisting around again, Laura watched as Vivienne pulled the door open further, standing back to usher her inside. Laura searched Vivienne’s face and instead of seeing the anger she’d expected to find, her shocked expression had quickly transformed to one of warmth.

‘Yes, I’ve only just poured water in the teapot. The tea should be ready about now.’

‘Umm, I don’t want to impose.’ Laura looked down at the ground.

‘Oh, you won’t be imposing. It would be my pleasure.’

Laura looked at her. Vivienne didn’t look as though she was about to wield a baseball bat or hit her over the head with a frying pan. But who knew? It wasn’t something that the perpetrator would give a warning about. What did she have to lose, though? Apart from her life, perhaps? ‘Okay.’

‘Good, good. I’ll get us both a piece of the fruit cake I baked yesterday too.’ As soon as Laura had stepped through the door, Vivienne closed it quietly behind her and pointed to the door to the right. ‘Go on in, dear, and make yourself at home. I’ll fetch the tea and cake.’

Laura followed the instructions and entered the room. The walls were painted pale yellow, almost an exact match to the front door, apart from a feature wall behind the fireplace in dark florals, much like the wallpaper Laura herself had picked out for the hallway. Two small two-seater sofas sat in the middle of the room facing each other, a large glass coffee table between them, a cream vase of roses centred on the coffee table, a TV guide lying open next to it.

Laura perched on the edge of the sofa nearest the door. She could hear Vivienne humming above the clatter of crockery across the hallway. This wasn’t the welcome she’d expected. After all she’d been put through at the hands of the Meadowfield community, she’d convinced herself Vivienne must be this formidable person, instead here she was making tea for Laura and bringing her cake. She certainly didn’t appear displeased or annoyed to see her.

After what felt like at least half an hour but was likely just a few minutes, Vivienne walked into the room holding a tray with a teapot, two cups and saucers, a milk jug and two plates of cake.

‘Here we go.’ Setting the tray down on the coffee table with a clatter, Vivienne sat on the sofa before standing up again. ‘Oh, I’ve forgotten the sugar. I knew there was something. Silly me, it’s because I don’t take it. I forget that I should offer it.’

‘I don’t take sugar in my tea either. Thank you, though.’

Sitting back down, Vivienne smiled. ‘That saves me a trip then.’

Laura reached out to help set out the cups and saucers as Vivienne picked up the teapot. She couldn’t remember the lasttime she’d had tea from a teapot, probably when she’d been younger and had visited her grandma.

‘Milk?’ Vivienne held up the small milk jug.

‘Yes, please.’ She watched as Vivienne poured the milk, the white swirling on the top of the dark liquid. Despite the reason she’d come, she felt strangely at ease sitting here opposite the woman who had run Pennycress before her. ‘Thank you.’

‘Remember your cake too, dear.’ Vivienne passed her a plate, a slice of fruit cake sitting proudly in its centre.

‘Thanks.’ Taking the plate, Laura took a bite of cake, bracing herself for the too-rich-for-her taste, but it was lovely. Light and fruity rather than heavy. Beginning to feel a little calmer, she took another bite. ‘This is delicious.’

‘Thank you. I used to make it all the time for the guests at Pennycress.’ She smiled proudly. ‘It was always the first of the cakes to disappear.’

‘I can see why.’ Laura spoke between mouthfuls.

‘At the door, you mentioned that you’re the new owner of the inn?’ Holding her cup and saucer, Vivienne shuffled back on the sofa, getting comfortable.

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