Page 70 of Kate and Clara's Curious Cornish Craft Shop
Luckily, the doorstep is a low one so Jack manages to get his chair up and over it with very little assistance, and we enter into a large elegant hallway with black and white tiles covering the floor.
‘Now, would you like me to give you a guided tour, or just leave you to have a wander? Oh, no offence,’ he says to Jack.
‘None taken,’ Jack says, grinning a little too vehemently.
‘Is it all right if we look around ourselves?’ I suggest. ‘Then if we have any questions we can give you a shout.’
‘Of course,’ Jackson says. He glances nervously at the large mahogany staircase rising gracefully up to the second floor in a beautiful curve.
‘Don’t worry, Jackson,’ Jack says, watching him. ‘I won’t be asking you to carry me up there.’
‘Ha ha.’ Jackson forces a smile. ‘Yes, very good.’ A look of deep concern crosses his face. ‘I’m sure though, if you did purchase the house, the necessary adaptations could be made. Stairlifts are very good these days and not only for the elderly and infirm.’
Could he dig himself any deeper, I wonder?
‘Right …’ he says as Jack glares at him. ‘I’ll wait outside in the garden, shall I? I have a few phone calls to make. Just shout if you need anything.’
‘We will,’ I say hurriedly. ‘Thank you, Jackson.’
‘Idiot,’ Jack grumbles before Jackson is barely out of earshot.
‘He can’t help it,’ I say, waiting until he’s left the building at least. ‘Some people panic, don’t they, when they meet someone with a disability. They don’t know what to say.’
‘Tell me about it. From the moment he began talking down to me I knew he was a fool.’
‘Yes, I did notice that. Do you get that a lot?’
‘Being spoken to like I’m five? Yes, you’d be surprised. It’s like I’m a toddler in a pushchair, not an ex-soldier in a wheelchair. I fought for my country. That guy couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag.’
‘I didn’t do that when I met you, did I?’ I ask, pretty sure I hadn’t. ‘Talk down to you, I mean.’
Jack shakes his head. ‘No, you were okay. If I remember rightly you had a right strop because I wouldn’t come downstairs and let you into my shop.’
‘I didn’t have a strop. I was simply a bit annoyed, but I didn’t know then that—’
‘I had no legs?’ Jack states bluntly, finishing my sentence.
‘No. Actually I was going to say you were an awkward bugger, but the legs thing will do …’ I wink at him, and he grins back at me.
‘Come on then,’ Jack says, still smiling. ‘Let’s explore this house as best we can and see if we can find anything. Although what exactly we’re looking for I’m yet to discover.’
We make our way as best we can around the old house, but all we find are empty rooms, often with old paper peeling off the walls, and occasional dirty lines betraying where pictures had once hung. There is no furniture left at all – everything has been removed, presumably by Noah and his house clearance team.
When we’ve explored all of the ground floor we arrive back in the hallway, and I gaze up the stairs.
‘It’s all right, you go,’ Jack says. ‘If it’s anything like down here one person will be more than enough to check it out.’
I nod. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’
I hurry up the long winding staircase that curves upwards to the top floor. I’ve always wanted to live in a house with a grand staircase like this, so I can’t help running my hand over the smooth wood of the handrail as I go.
I scoot through a few of the empty rooms, not seeing anything different than downstairs – only more faded wallpaper, this time more appropriate to bedroom living.
It’s only when I come to the last room that I pause.
This room is much bigger than the others, and whereas the other bedrooms all have carpets this one has bare boards. It’s not so much the sight of floor-boards that is fascinating me but what’s on top of them. All over the wood are splashes of colour – more specifically splashes of oil paint – as though someone did a lot of painting in this room and simply didn’t care about the mess, because it was their room – their own room for creating works of art.
‘Jack!’ I call downstairs. ‘Guess what I’ve found! Jack!’ I call again, when he doesn’t reply. I hurry back down the stairs.Where is he?
