Page 93 of The Little Teashop of Lost and Found
Father is partial to a type of old-fashioned sweet called Uncle Joe’s Mint Balls and I procured a tin of these on my return to the car, as a reason for my late arrival home.
33
Dogged Footsteps
Outside, two identical wall-eyed sheepdogs had appeared and began to herd me out of the courtyard with sharp nips at my ankles, while George reversed the tractor.
I jumped into the safety of my car with relief and the dogs gave me a look of disgust and then ran off after their master, who was already on his way back into the farmhouse. The door slammed and he was gone, much as the cleaner, Val, had taken her leave: it must be a particularly Yorkshire form of farewell.
I did a clumsy three-point turn and then headed back up the farm track, more than happy to reach the road again. As I paused to check for traffic, the sign for Mr Rochester’s Restaurant and the Hikers’ Café flapped in the stiff breeze to my right and, without conscious decision, I turned towards it like a homing pigeon.
Hot tea was what I urgently needed, and luckily the café was open, the windows steamed up from the warmth within. Inside I found two hardy-looking hikers and Val. She must have walked there, though perhaps there was a short cut?
She gave me a look of deep suspicion when I greeted her and encircled her tea and buttered teacake with both arms, as if I might snatch them away.
‘Is he taking you on, to replace me?’ she demanded belligerently.
‘What?’ I said, nonplussed.
‘That George. Just because I’m knocking on a bit, it doesn’t mean I can’t clean like I always did.’
‘Oh!’ I said, suddenly enlightened. ‘No, I didn’t come about that at all. It was something totally different. In fact, I was looking for his father, but I didn’t know he’d died.’ Seeing she still looked unconvinced, I added, ‘And I’ve just bought my own business in Haworth, so I’m not looking for work at all.’
She relaxed slightly. ‘I thought he was going to replace me; he’s threatened enough.’
‘I keep telling you he won’t, you daft bat,’ said the woman behind the counter, whom I recognized by her long grey plait of hair as one of the helpers at Eleri’s book launch. ‘Who else would work for a miserable little snirp like that, so penny-pinching he only turns the heating on if there’s ice on the inside of the windows?’
Val demolished the last bite of her teacake and got up. ‘Well, it’s what I’m used to, Martha. Now I’d best get on to my next job.’
She looked at me. ‘And if you see George again, don’t you go telling him you saw me here.’
‘OK … though I don’t see why youshouldn’tbe here.’
‘He and his cousin Henry don’t get on too well.’
‘He must know you leave your car here, by now,’ the woman behind the counter said. ‘And you clean for Eleri one afternoon a week, too.’
‘Yes, Martha, but if we don’t mention it, then it doesn’t matter, does it?’ Val said with an air of logic and left, dragging on her plaid coat as she went.
‘You were at the book launch, weren’t you?’ Martha said, taking my order, but seeming to lose interest in me once I’d agreed that yes, I had been there.
The tea was excellent and I studied the photos on the walls, which seemed to be of the first book launch. I knew it had been held in the café, since the restaurant hadn’t been opened then.
There was a replica of the precious diary with the reference to Charlotte Brontë in it, too, with postcards and souvenirs next to it for sale, along with signed copies of some of Eleri’s books, and I wandered across for a look until Martha brought my order out.
I was just eating an excellent warm cheese scone, so light it almost floated off the plate – but then, so did mine – when Eleri came in withHenry. His harsh-featured but attractive face looked just as gloomily intense as always, and although he saw me he didn’t say anything, just nodded and headed straight for the kitchen.
‘The lass has just et the last cheese scone,’ Martha called after him. ‘Henry?’
There was the clashing of pots and pans and some muttering.
‘Eh, our very own Mr Rochester,’ Martha said to Eleri drily.
‘I heard that,’ said Henry’s voice through the serving hatch.
Martha nodded in my direction: ‘She was at the book launch.’
‘Not only at the book launch, but she’s a novelist and she’s been taken on by my agent, Senga,’ Eleri told her. ‘Hi, Alice – this is a nice surprise. Can I join you?’
