Page 9 of Cosy & Chill
Taking a Chance
The offices of Tienfield & Tienfield occupied the ground floor of a four-storey townhouse in Market Street. Except for the shop front with its big windows, the building could have been the twin to the one Leo had come to enquire about.
When he’d noted the address, Leo had expected to find an estate agent’s office, not a firm of solicitors who seemed to have been rooted in this corner of Richmond for generations. The panelled severity of the reception area was as imposing as the sharply suited lady behind the reception desk. Both reminded him of his grandma’s death. Or rather, they reminded him of the time spent with Mr Griffin, her oldest friend and legal counsel, and the strife her will had wrought.
You’re only here to ask about a property,he reminded himself before his mind headed down that particular rabbit hole.Asking the price of the rent doesn’t oblige you to do anything.Nor was he wasting the solicitor’s time, since dealing with enquiries had to be part of their job.
By the time the receptionist invited him to step into Mr Tienfield’s office, Leo had talked himself back into a positive frame of mind.
“Good morning, sir,” he greeted the man, who seemed as venerable as the wood panelling.
“Good morning, Mr…”
“Wetherall. Leo Wetherall. I’d like to enquire about a property your firm is managing.”
“Quite, quite. Please take a seat, young man. Which property are you interested in?”
“The store on the High Street. Number 13.”
“Ah. You understand that the building is not for sale?”
“No. I mean, yes,” Leo stuttered. “I was interested in finding out how much the rent would be?”
“You’ve not seen the store yet, have you?”
“Only from the outside.”
“Quite, quite. Let me give you a little more information, then.” He lifted a folder from the stack on the corner of his desk and opened it. “Ah, yes. Number 13 High Street used to be a gentlemen’s outfitter. On the ground floor, you’ll find a fully equipped store with the original shelving and sales counter. Behind the store, you have a kitchen and washroom, plus storage and office space. Above, the property comprises three floors of living accommodation. Five bedrooms, two receptions, a family-sized kitchen and dining room, and a bathroom on each floor.”
“I see.” Leo kept his back straight and his hands in his lap. Part of him had hoped that the shop was available at a price he and Finn might be able to afford, but this… Neither one of them had the means to rent a four-storey, five-bedroom town house with a shop front in the centre of Richmond! The council tax alone would be astronomical. Then there’d be rent, utilities payments, insurance, and business rates. He wished he hadn’t asked. “It’s to be let as a single property?”
“Quite. The property is held in trust, as per the deceased owner’s will. Which has a number of peculiar stipulations.” Mr Tienfield pulled his glasses to the tip of his nose and considered Leo over the top of them. “If you would, Mr Wetherall, will you tell me what you planned to do with the property?”
Leo swallowed. This was a waste of time, but… he was here. The solicitor had agreed to see him even without an appointment. Maybe he knew of another place Finn could turn into a yarn shop.
All things are possible if you keep an open mind, he reminded himself of his grandma’s favourite saying.
He took a deep breath.
“A friend showed me the store last night,” he began, feeling his way. “He’d been looking for just such a property to open a yarn store. Knitting, you know? He had the idea to turn it into a hub for the community, especially young families and the elderly.”
Finn hadn’t said a word about that. Not specifically. But in the same way Leo had been able to imagine how the store would look once it opened, he’d seen the kind of customers it would attract. Why not make the most of what little they had and see where it got them?
“We thought we could use one half of the store to sell yarns and knitting supplies. The other side of the store could become a mix of caféand ice cream parlour, so that customers could enjoy refreshment while they came to browse. Finn, that’s Mr Finn Hoogan, was thinking of knitting classes, and workshops, and craft mornings and such.”
“An ice cream parlour?” Mr Tienfield’s eyebrows almost disappeared under his fringe. It was a reaction Leo had encountered many times. He knew exactly how to reply to it.
“Artisan ice cream, Mr Tienfield,” he said, reaching for his bag. “Ice cream made by hand in small batches, from select ingredients, and with seasonal flavours. For example, right now, I’m making cinnamon latte, dark chocolate and Morello cherry, and spiced plum ice creams. He lined up his tasting dishes on Mr Tienfield’s desk and held out one of the small spoons. “You should try it.”
To his surprise, Mr Tienfield accepted the offered spoon and the dish of dark chocolate ice cream.
Leo loved to watch people sample his creations, especially when he offered flavours they might not have tried or even considered before. Mr Tienfield was the methodical kind. He tried one ice cream after the other. He even sipped from his water glass between spoonfuls as if he was at a posh wine tasting. It was highly gratifying.
“Very impressive, young man,” he said, when he’d tasted all the samples. “Do you take orders?”
Leo beamed. “I do. Delivery can take up to three days, though if I have stock available, I can deliver the same day. I also have a stand at the local market.” He handed over a business card and a leaflet listing flavours and prices. “Flavours change with the seasons, but vanilla, chocolate, caramel, and coffee flavours are available year-round.”
“Thank you.” The solicitor set Leo’s card and leaflet to one side. “About the store on the High Street,” he returned to the topic they had been discussing. “I think what you’re planning will not run counter to the stipulations in the will. In fact, I think it might suit admirably.”
