Page 21 of Kate and Clara's Curious Cornish Craft Shop
I shake my head. ‘One, even if Jack were gay, which I’m pretty sure he’s not, he’s far too old for you!’ I whisper to him sternly. ‘And two, I hadn’t even noticed he was … well, handsome,’ I add, using a more appropriate term for me.
Sebastian grins and lifts his glass at me. ‘You may be fooling yourself, Kate, but you’re not for one moment fooling me!’
The opening continues to be well attended with even more people squeezing into the small shop, and it’s good to see everyone from St Felix supporting a new business, like they had at the Lyle Gallery.
Jack makes a quick speech about halfway into the evening, which is well received. Then the guests, having had their nose around and their free drinks and nibbles, begin to thin out a little, allowing me to see more of the interior of the shop.
‘Looks good, doesn’t it?’ Dec, from the Blue Canary Bakery, says to me as I gaze around.
‘Yes, Jack seems to have squeezed a lot of stock into quite a small space, and yet it doesn’t feel too crowded at all.’
‘That’s the problem with the buildings here,’ Dec says, looking around him. ‘They weren’t built for shops that need to carry a lot of stock. The buildings were built for fishermen and their families, and have been reincarnated time and time again over the years to fit whatever business needs to inhabit them.’
‘This wasn’t always a butcher’s before it was an art shop then?’ I ask. I loved hearing about the history of St Felix and how it had changed over the years. There was always someone around who would chat to you about the ‘good old days’ if you wanted to hear about it.
‘I don’t really know,’ Dec says, shrugging. ‘It’s been a butcher’s since I came here. My uncle had my bakery before me.’
‘Oh, that’s right. I remember Ant telling me about it one day when I was in your shop and it was a bit quiet.’
‘Must have been in the winter then,’ Dec says ruefully. ‘It’s never quiet in the summer!’
‘You shouldn’t make such delicious cakes,’ I tease.
‘Ah, I can’t take all the credit for that – family recipes passed down through the generations!’
‘Evening,’ Noah says, wandering over towards us. ‘I can get over to speak to you now a few people have left. Kate, I wanted to tell you how great the old sewing machine looks in your window.’
We’d never solved the mystery of the sewing machine and where the embroidered picture had come from, so I’d popped the machine into the shop window yesterday with some of my designs, and as Noah had predicted it was showing them off beautifully.
‘Thank you, yes, I’m very pleased with it.’ I look around me. ‘I would have thought Jack would have done something similar here with the art equipment he got from you?’
‘Maybe he doesn’t have the space right now?’ Noah suggests. ‘He’s squeezed a lot of stock in here.’
‘What equipment is this?’ Dec asks.
‘Noah did a house clearance recently and in it there was an old sewing machine that I now have, and some antique art equipment that Noah sold to Jack for the shop.’
‘Ah, what house was this from?’ Dec asks. ‘Somewhere local?’
‘Yes, actually. That large Victorian house just before you get to the coast road. The one with the blue door.’
Dec and I both nod.
‘There was stuff in its attic that had been there for years, decades even. I don’t think the elderly owner had any idea of the things that were hidden away up there. Her family simply seemed pleased I was prepared to take so much of it.’
‘Is it empty now then?’
‘Yes, but I think they want a fast sale. They seemed keen to get the place cleared as quickly as possible. I haven’t really dealt with them all that much though. Unusually, the estate agent was my point of contact.’
‘What a shame when your wealth is more important to your loved ones than your memories.’
‘It is, Kate, but I see it all the time,’ Noah says sadly.
‘Why are you all looking so miserable?’ Jack asks, approaching us. ‘This is supposed to be a party!’
‘Noah and I were just talking about the house clearance he did, and I was wondering what you’d done with the art equipment he sold you? We thought you might have had it on display tonight.’
Jack’s face, which had been full of life and exuberance as he wheeled himself over to us, suddenly drains of its colour.
