Page 18 of The Little Teashop of Lost and Found
Princess Beauty, suddenly drowsy, kicked off her high, gold-heeled shoes and lay down on the velvet couch, closing her eyes. A rattling noise, as many hard arachnid legs clattered towards her, made her open them again.
A gigantic spider stopped dead, as if they were playing a game of Mr Wolf.
‘Are you a friendly spider, come to look after me while I sleep?’ asked Beauty, who had never been the brightest bunny in the box, even when not fuddled by drowsiness.
‘That’s right,’ he agreed, and proceeded to wrap her up as tightly as a parcel in a cocoon of strong spun silk.
When I dragged myself back to reality and went upstairs, the flat was, if anything, worse than I remembered and smelled musty from disuse, though not actually damp.
As to furnishings, there were a lot of useful things in the boxes Rorywould be bringing with him, including some nice curtains from my last Cornish flat that hadn’t been unpacked while I was living with Dan. I was sure they’d fit some of the windows here and I had everything else I’d need … apart from any furniture whatsoever.
I rang Mrs Muswell’s solicitor and told him she hadn’t left the items she’d agreed to, and also complained that she’d misled me by sending me photos of how the caféusedto look years before, not how it actually was now.
But it was just as I thought: in slippery, weasel words he gave me to understand that there wasn’t a lot I could do about it, since she was domiciled in Spain. He still wouldn’t give me any kind of contact information for her, either, but assured me he would pass on my comments. A fat lot of good that would do me!
I knew my own solicitor would say much the same, though. I’d made my bed and would now have to lie on it. Or I would, when I had one.
I thought I’d better try to put a more positive spin on things when I described the place to Edie, or she’d be down here strong-arming me into selling it again. And Lola would want an update, though I didn’t need to pretend it was better than it was with her.
I let the tap water in the kitchen run until it stopped being a peaty brown and then filled the old and battered kettle, which had obviously not been worth taking. I’d purloined teabags, coffee and little pots of milk from the guesthouse, but now I discovered a whole box of Yorkshire Gold teabags, like a treasure trove, in one of the cupboards.
The kettle was just coming to a boil, along with a few more ideas that had germinated and begun to sprout from the original one of the night before, when I heard the brass bell on a spring attached to the café door jangle. I was sure I’d locked up when I came in – and anyway, even if I hadn’t, the ‘Closed for Renovation’ sign that had been stuck to the glass and the lack of lights should have put any potential customers off.
I got up to investigate and as I came through the swing door a tall, raw-boned woman turned from switching on the lights and stared at me. She had grey-streaked dark hair cut in the sort of sixties Mod bobthat was very short at the back, but came down in two wings on to her cheeks.
She looked familiar, too, but the feeling clearly wasn’t mutual because she was eyeing me with deep suspicion.
‘Well, I’ll go to the foot of ower stairs! Who the hell are you, flower?’ she demanded.
The last thing I felt like doing was going out, but I urgently needed to buy a few things at a chemist and I also thought I’d better get a replacement for the sheepskin bedside rug while I was at it – both as far away from home as possible, just in case …
Luckily, our weekly cleaner wouldn’t be here until Thursday next week, by which time I’d have removed every last trace of what had happened and restored the house to the condition of pristine order and cleanliness that Father insisted on.
10
Burger Queen
‘I might say the same,’ I replied, but then the penny dropped and I realized who she was. ‘Oh – you work here, don’t you?’
‘In season I do,’ she admitted. ‘I’m Tilda Capstick and I manage the place and do what cooking there is. But out of season I come in Fridays to clean and air it, that’s why I’m here today. Have you come about the renovations? I suppose Mrs Muswell gave you a key, but she didn’t tell me what was happening.’
‘No, actually, I’m Alice Rose, the new owner,’ I said, and then, seeing she now looked both blank and suspicious, added, ‘Surely Mrs Muswell told you she’d put the place on the market and I’d bought it?’
‘Eh, I’d no idea she was eventhinkingof doing that, the sneaky bugger!’ she said, looking gobsmacked. ‘She was over here the end of August to close the café up early for renovations – and about time, too, we thought.’
‘She told me she’d intended doing that if the café didn’t sell as it was – but for a higher price than I paid.’
She ruminated over this, glowering. ‘You know, if I’d been thinking straight I’d have realized she wouldn’t part with her brass that easily. Oh, I can see it all, now! That’s why the flat was emptied and most of the appliances in the kitchen vanished. Nell and me just thought it was about time the place went a bit more upmarket, and maybe then it would open all year round, so we wouldn’t have to go out working for a cleaning agency from late September to Easter.’
‘Nell?’ I queried.
‘My aunt. I’m mostly in t’ kitchen, but I managed the place too, when Mrs Muswell wasn’t here. She only came over every three or four weeks and someone had to be in charge of ordering, stock control, cashing up and the like. My aunt Nell just waits on and makes the coffee and tea.’
‘Of course – I saw you and your aunt in some video clips on YouTube.’
‘Aye, my cousin’s girl, our Daisy, showed me on her iPad thing. Mrs Muswell saw it too and she said we’d better shape up to be more polite to the customers, or she’d fire us,’ Tilda said darkly. ‘But it was all hot air. Where else would she get two trustworthy and reliable workers for so little money?’
‘She wasn’t a great payer?’
