Page 105 of The Little Teashop of Lost and Found
‘Or it could be even worse – and anyway, I’m sure you’re wrong and he’s not seriously interested in me.’
‘Mum says his past has made him afraid of being hurt and yours has made it hard for you to trust another man, so you’re both holding back, thinking the other one doesn’t want to commit.’
‘Well, it’s a theory, but it’s not the right one,’ I told her and she laughed and said I was hopeless.
‘Your young man stayed with me last night and he’s a bonny laddie,’ said Edie approvingly down the phone, seemingly under the same misapprehension as Sheila and Bel. ‘I canna remember when I’ve seen a more handsome one.’
‘He’s not my young man! In fact, he’s not even that young, because he’s a couple of years older than me – and handsome is as handsome does,’ I added primly.
‘He’s of an age to stop gallivanting around and settle down, and he spoke fondly of you, so don’t go cutting off your nose to spite your face, Alice,’ she advised me.
‘I’m not cutting anything off!’ I protested. ‘He’s never settled with one girl for long so he’s not going to break the habit of a lifetime for me, is he? He’s like a hummingbird going from flower to flower.’
She laughed and said one flower had to be sweeter than all the others, and then rang off.
I woke from a strange dream in the early hours of the morning, thinking I could hear the unmistakable roar of a tractor. Then I remembered I was living in the middle of a village, so it was highly unlikely to have been real, and fell asleep again.
However, Jack discovered a box of eggs on the doorstep later – large and obviously very free-range ones with bits of straw and muck stuck to them.
An obscure message had been pencilled on the box: ‘Thank you for your kind remembrance,’ it said. I’d take a guess at that being from George, but he couldn’t possibly have come all the way over the moors on his tractor to deliver them, could he?
I had a big, fluffy cheese omelette for lunch and it was delicious. I’d have invited Nile, had there been any sign of him …
On Friday morning, although I was vaguely conscious that Jack had returned yet again and was drilling away at something, I didn’t godown because I was far away in the book and heading for the end of the first draft.
But when I finally opened the flat door, there was one of those tartan cardboard sporrans full of Edinburgh rock leaning against it. The traveller had evidently returned.
I could hear Tilda talking to Jack and found them in the kitchen drinking tea and eating biscuits, while admiring the electric fly zapper on the wall that he’d just fixed up.
‘That’ll get any of the little buggers who make it through the fly screening,’ Tilda said approvingly.
‘Great,’ I said. ‘By the way, Jack, if a delivery of flatware and pans arrives while you’re here, just get them to stack them in the back room.’
‘Will do,’ he said, ‘though I’m off to another job in a bit.’ Then he got up and went off to fix the now bright and shiny old bell back on to the door spring, so that it jangled louder than ever when the door was opened.
I’d missed it, in a strange kind of way.
Tilda offered me the last cup of treacle and the box that contained a minute sliver of the Dundee cake and a collection of crumbs, but I declined both.
‘Well, back to work,’ she said. ‘Shall I give the flat a quick do? I didn’t want to disturb you, because Jack said you were at that writing again.’
The way she said it made it sound like a really bad habit, similar to opium eating.
‘That would be great: I’m just going to have a break and then I’ll carry on this afternoon. The book needs to be finished by the end of next week. Just as well, because I’ll need to concentrate on the teashop after that, if we’re to open on 4 November.’
‘I can’t see any problem. It’s as near as dammit finished now, isn’t it? Though when I put that last lot of willow pattern what Nile brought through the dishwasher, it was making a funny noise.’
‘It is very old and I suspect it’s on its last legs,’ I agreed. ‘I only hope it lasts out until we’ve got the tearoom going and then I’ll have to bite the bullet and buy a big new commercial one as soon as I can afford it.’
‘There’ll be a lot of stuff for washing by hand thatwon’tgo into the dishwasher,’ she pointed out.
‘Yes, especially cooking utensils, though I do tend to wash up as I go.’
‘Our Daisy would be glad of a little evening job after college, washing up, filling and emptying the dishwasher and helping me with the cleaning,’ she suggested. ‘Nell will be ready to head home and get the tea on after we finish up serving of an afternoon, but me and Daisy could have the place readied up for next day in no time. Of course, I’d come once a week on a day we were closed, to give the place a good bottoming as well.’
‘That would be perfect – but only if you want to take on the extra work? Otherwise I could get cleaners in …?’
‘No need to go paying other people when I can do it better myself and be glad of the extra money,’ Tilda said firmly. ‘Shall I ask our Daisy?’
