Page 29 of Kate and Clara's Curious Cornish Craft Shop
‘I’ve learnt my lesson,’ Molly adds, while I weigh all this up in my mind. ‘I’ll be super careful, I promise.’
‘So who is having this party? Do I know their parents?’
‘It’s my friend Emily’s brother, Sam.’
I think about this for a moment. ‘Oh, Jenny’s son – tall, reddish hair? Works in the ice cream parlour sometimes?’
Molly nods.
Jenny and her husband are very sensible. They wouldn’t allow anything bad to happen in their house, I was sure of it. ‘Okay, then, you can go, but I’ll be having a quick word with Jenny beforehand to see what’s what.’
‘Yes!’ Molly exclaims, pumping the air. ‘I mean, thanks, Mum, you’re the best!’ She hugs me. ‘I’ll just text Emily, then I’ll come back and do this washing up for you right away. The party is at the community centre, by the way,’ she adds casually as she leaves the room.
I sigh. I should have known it wouldn’t be in Jenny and Steve’s newly renovated home, but I’d said yes now and I couldn’t keep Molly wrapped up in cotton wool for ever, however much I’d like to. She was growing up fast, too fast, and I had to let her.
‘I meant what I said before,’ Molly says, popping her head back around the door. ‘You deserve some fun too, Mum. Now Joel isn’t in the picture perhaps this Jack might be the one?’
I head back to Jack’s shop a little before eight o’clock, the embroidered pictures tucked away in my bag.
I press the buzzer next to the shop for the flat and wait.
‘Hi Kate, come on up!’ I hear over the intercom within seconds.
The door in front of me magically unlocks and I make my way inside, finding myself in the same hallway I’d been in earlier that runs parallel with the side of the shop.
I climb the stairs, following the sound of Jack’s voice.
‘I’m in the living room!’ he calls, so I make my way across the landing towards the room I’d seen in passing earlier today.
‘Sorry I couldn’t come down to greet you properly,’ Jack says apologetically, ‘but you already know why.’
‘Don’t be silly, it’s fine,’ I say, wondering where I should sit. Jack is in what I now recognise to be his second, slightly smaller wheelchair by the open window. I notice immediately that he’s not wearing his prosthetic legs; instead his cargo-style trousers are pinned up where his own legs end.
‘You don’t mind, do you?’ Jack says, noticing me looking at them. ‘I only wear the legs when I have to – they’re not always that comfortable.’
‘Of course not,’ I say, wishing I hadn’t stared. ‘Why should I?’
‘Ah, you know … people can be odd sometimes about disability.’
‘Not me.’
‘Good, have a seat,’ Jack says, gesturing to the bright comfy-looking sofa. ‘I saw you coming down the road. Perfect view from up here of all the comings and goings on the high street.’
‘I bet you have,’ I say, sitting down.
‘I’d rather have a lovely view of the sea, mind, but those windows rent for a fair bit more than my busy view.’
‘We’re very lucky where we are because our shop backs on to the harbour – the flat has wonderful views out to sea.’
‘Oh yes, so you do. You don’t realise that when you’re down in Harbour Street though. All the shops seem quite small and dark along there.’
‘I prefer quaint and cosy,’ I reply firmly.
‘Yes, that’s probably a better way to describe them. They’re not as big as us up here on the high street, but you probably get a lot more of the tourist trade where you are, so I guess we’re even.’
I look at Jack. Did he even know he was bordering on being rude again?
‘Drink?’ Jack asks brightly when I don’t reply. ‘I have various juices, some fizzy water … or maybe you’d prefer some wine?’
