Chocolate Shoes and Wedding Blues (19 page)
The journalist’s eyes widened. ‘Oh my God – so it is!’ she exclaimed, and her biro went into overdrive while I was pouring him a quick cup of coffee and shoving the plate of cakes in his direction.
‘Chloe’s coming, with her grandfather and Zillah,’ Raffy said, ‘and she says she’ll be happy to help if you’d like her to do anything? Zillah can mind Grace.’
‘If she could keep an eye on the refreshment table, that would be wonderful,’ I said gratefully.
‘I’ll tell her – and I’m sure Felix and Poppy will help for a while too, though I expect Felix will want to open Marked Pages, and Poppy will have to get back to the stables, eventually. I’ll have to leave fairly soon myself, because I’ve got a wedding later.’
‘That’s very appropriate, really,’ Bella said. ‘But let’s hope all the Sticklepond brides from now on will be wearing shoes from Cinderella’s Slippers!’
The clock was inexorably ticking towards the hour and I felt a flutter of nervous excitement in my stomach. ‘Right,’ I said, getting up and dusting off a scattering of crumbs, ‘we’d better go and open up.’
They all helped carry plates and glasses and the fizz in its bucket out to the courtyard, where quite a crowd had already gathered. In fact, as well as a goodly number of unfamiliar faces, I think at least half the village was there – Bella’s mother, with Tia; Florrie and her middle-aged son, Clive; Felix and Poppy; Chloe, with baby Grace in her stroller; the tall, imposing figure of her grandfather, Gregory Lyon, his long white hair blowing in the slight breeze; and Chloe’s gypsy aunt Zillah, small, beady-eyed and dressed in shrieking pink and lime green, like an exotic parakeet.
I spotted the local reporter George Turnbull, too, and his photographer was snapping away just like the one from
Lively Lancashire
magazine was doing.
Then there was the Winter’s End contingent of Seth, Sophy, their little girl, Alys, and Sophy’s grown-up daughter, Lucy, not to mention all of the indoor and outdoor staff, together with
their
families …
And Hebe Winter too, of course, for nothing ever happened in Sticklepond unless she had a hand in it! She’d rung me a day or two earlier to inform me that the Friends of Winter’s End Elizabethan Re-enactment Society would provide the entertainment, though I’d no idea what form this would take. They were all there, though, and in full Elizabethan dress, with Hebe as a very convincing Virgin Queen.
There was a hubbub going on, but everyone quietened and listened intently as Raffy blessed the shop and then cut the ivory silk ribbon I’d pinned across the door. Then Chloe handed baby Grace to Zillah and came over with Poppy to help remove the clingfilm from the cakes, while Felix opened the first bottle of fizz and started to pour it into the champagne flutes.
‘This is really kind of you,’ I told them.
‘Not at all,’ Poppy said. ‘It’s fun! Anyway, I got my satin wedding shoes from your aunt and they’re the prettiest shoes I’ve ever had.’
‘You looked pretty all over on our wedding day,’ Felix said, and she blushed under her freckles.
Bella went in to keep an eye on the shop and Hebe told me that in a few moments she and the other Friends of Winter’s End, would perform.
‘Perform?’
‘An Elizabethan courtly dance or two,’ she explained, as though I was half-witted. ‘Laurence has the music.’
Indeed, her elderly steward, Laurence Yatton, was inserting a CD into a small portable CD player, which he’d placed on the end of the refreshment table.
Miss Winter’s piercing blue eyes wandered over to the next-door cottage and a calculating gleam entered them. ‘I hear that your new neighbour is a renowned Shakespearian actor. I must call on him and see if he would like to join our little group. We had been thinking of enacting some scenes from the plays as a further draw for visitors to Winter’s End.’
‘I think he’s been ill – he’s certainly a bit of a hermit,’ I warned her. ‘He may only be living here while convalescing.’ I didn’t know how word had got out about Ivo’s being an actor, but I was pretty sure that once he’d recovered he’d be back off to Stratford again like a flash.
She looked a little disappointed. ‘Oh? I had thought he had retired here.’
‘He’s not old enough to retire – only in his late thirties. He did lose his wife last year, though, so I expect he’s come here for peace and a bit of time out.’
Not that he’d
had
a lot of peace so far, what with the rumpus during the sale, and then all the hammering and drilling during the renovations – and now today there was even more of a racket, not to mention the way the shop bell sent out a merry wedding peal every time the door was opened.
It had occurred to me that perhaps I’d better warn him what was going to happen, so I’d pushed an invitation to the shop opening through his letterbox the previous evening, though I hadn’t really expected him to join us …
But maybe he was hacking at his jungle of a back garden, ignoring the rumpus? I hoped so, anyway, seeing he had such a short fuse for any disturbance.
While the Friends were tripping their stately measures, lots of people came to wish me every success with my new venture, including Seth Greenwood, who admired the bows on the box trees and then told me more than I really needed to know about the history of knot gardening until his wife, Sophy, dragged him away.
Gregory Lyon, Chloe’s grandfather, informed me it was the day of the vernal equinox so very auspicious, and that he’d recited a charm for success and protection on his arrival, which was kind of him … if weird. So what with Raffy’s blessing, it looked like all my angles were covered!
Even Zillah, who was in charge of Grace’s stroller, offered to read my tea leaves one day soon.
My helpers carried the glasses and plates back into the kitchen and then had to leave, while I joined Bella in the shop. The doorbell played ‘Here Comes the Bride’ about every five minutes for the rest of the morning, and sometimes the people coming in would like it so much they stood there, opening and closing the door for five minutes or more.
Most people came in from curiosity, but many then made small purchases of silver shoe charms, chocolate shoes and even
Slipper Monkey
books. One future bride asked to try on shoes in the inner sanctum, too – and I made my first RubyTrueShuze sale! I thought she’d faint at the price of the rose suede court shoes with satin bows that she’d clearly fallen in love with, but she didn’t even blink a mascaraed eyelash.
The shop suddenly emptied about twelve and I’d just said to Bella, ‘I think we could close for a quick bit of lunch, don’t you? And I’d better ring Neil and see if he can come and turn the volume down on that doorbell, because I can see now it’s
way
too loud!’ when the door was flung open, setting off ‘Here Comes the Bride’ yet again. Ivo burst in: this was getting to be a habit.
‘“
What fresh hell is this
?’”’ he roared, clapping his hands over his ears.
‘I know it’s a bit loud, but surely you can’t hear the doorbell through the stone wall?’
‘You could hear it in Timbuktu!’
‘Well, there’s no need to shout. And actually, I’ve realised it’s too loud and was about to phone the man who installed it to come and adjust it.’
‘It’s not just the bell – I work in the adjoining room and it’s sounded like bedlam in here
and
out in the courtyard!’
‘Couldn’t you work somewhere else?’
‘No,’ he snapped.
‘And what work?’ I asked. ‘I thought you were an actor and “resting”?’
‘I
am
an actor, but I need a bit of peace and quiet because – not that it’s any of your business – I’m writing.’
‘Your memoirs?’
‘Something like that,’ he said stiffly.
‘I don’t suppose you want someone to type them up on the computer for you?’ Bella interjected eagerly.
He gave her a look that said pretty clearly that he’d certainly prefer not to employ my best friend and co-conspirator in ruining his peace.
‘I’m afraid I’ve already left a message with someone who advertised on the village notice board. She sounds very suitable – if she’s discreet.’
‘Why, is your autobiography terribly scandalous?’ I asked, but he just gave me a cold look from his grey merman eyes.
‘
I
put the card there,’ Bella confessed. ‘I could do with some extra work, and I’m terribly discreet, honestly.’
‘A clam,’ I agreed. ‘Your secrets would be safe with her.’
He looked uncertainly at her, then ran one long slender hand through his dark chestnut hair in a very elegant gesture of resignation. ‘I suppose you’d better come and talk about it.’
‘If you like, you can go now, Bella, while it’s quiet. I’ll ring Neil about the bell and make us some sandwiches.’
‘Quiet – ha!’ snapped the actor, and stalked regally out, followed, after a wry look at me, by Bella.
As the war dragged on, rationing became more and more extreme, though living in a village we were probably better off than most, for we had vegetables in the garden, and the hens, and all sorts of bartering went on behind the scenes. But we all learned make do and mend – my sewing skills certainly came in handy and Father could repair and patch and make shoes last and last, until sometimes there was more patch than original leather!
Middlemoss Living Archive
Recordings: Nancy Bright.
Barely ten minutes later Bella let herself back in and I poured her a cup of coffee and passed her the cheese and tomato sandwiches.
‘So – how did you get on?’
‘Well … OK, I suppose, though he took a bit of convincing that I’d keep what he was writing confidential. He also wants me to drop in my references.’
‘Which references? One praising your air-hostessing abilities isn’t going to be very relevant, is it?’
‘Character references, which is OK, because I can easily get a couple of people to say I’m honest, sober and truthful. I think he was quite impressed when I told him about the office skills course and that I had a certificate.’
‘You told me everyone who turned up to more than six classes got that.’
‘Yes, but there was no need to tell
him
that, was there? And anyway, I’m quite good with computers and can touch-type, so I’ve got everything he needs.’
‘What
does
he need?’
‘His manuscripts typed up – he likes to write longhand.’
‘Then you’ve got the job?’
‘Yes, so from Monday I’ll call in on my way home from here and collect whatever he’s written, then type it into my computer. I can do it after Tia goes to bed, I’d only be slumped in front of the TV otherwise. Then I’ll drop it off next day when I pick up the new lot … and so on. I told him I worked here part-time, because of picking my little girl up from school.’
‘Doesn’t he have a computer? I thought everyone had one these days.’
‘Oh, yes, he has a really nice laptop, but he only seems to use it for the internet. I’ll transfer his work onto it eventually, when he’s finished the first draft.’
‘Of his juicy memoirs?’ I pried interestedly, but Bella looked mysterious.
‘My lips are sealed. He said if I told anyone what he was writing – including you, he mentioned you specifically – I’d not only be instantly fired but also pierced by “the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune”, or something Shakespearian like that.’
‘
Mis
fortune, in your case. And do you mean you’re really not going to tell me?’ I demanded, incredulously.
‘Of course I am! I mentally crossed my fingers when I promised I wouldn’t, because telling
you
doesn’t count. We always keep each other’s secrets.’
‘So, what’s he writing that’s got to be kept under wraps?’
‘Crime novels under the name of Nicholas Marlowe.’
‘Oh, I’ve seen those! Their covers look like Elizabethan stage sets.’
‘Yes, he told me they were contemporary and set in a Shakespearian acting company, with a parallel historical back story,’ she said, sounding quite knowledgeable suddenly.
‘But there
is
only one contemporary Shakespearian company, the RSC, isn’t there?’ I said, thinking about it. ‘And since he’s one of their leading actors, you can see why he’d want to keep it quiet, in case people thought he was basing his characters on them.’
‘Yes, that’s more or less how he put it.’
‘I must have a look in Marked Pages for Nicholas Marlowe’s crime novels, just from sheer curiosity.’
‘He has a deadline soon for the next, so he has to get on with it even though he obviously has other things on his mind. He’s written the first few chapters and he’s going to give me those tomorrow.’
‘He didn’t tell you what was biting him? Grief, mourning – general nervous breakdown?’
‘No, he only told me as much as he thought I needed to know, and that was that. He’s not exactly the chatty type, is he? But I did tell him you were an author and wrote and illustrated very popular children’s books.’
‘Only because they’re small and affordable.’
‘And brilliant,’ she added loyally. ‘What happens in the new one?’
‘It’s called
Slipper Monkeys’ Safari
. All the animals in a toy zoo have escaped and the Slipper Monkeys go on a safari with them, to find a new home. But go on – I take it Ivo wasn’t noticeably impressed when you told him I am an author, too?’
‘I’m not even sure he took it in,’ she confessed. ‘I think he just wanted me to go, by then. He’d barely let me over the threshold of his living room anyway, though I could see it was full of lovely old furniture and rugs – and bookcases, loads of bookcases.’
‘He’ll probably be spending lots of money in Marked Pages then, if he ever goes out when it’s open. So far, he only seems to walk around the village in the dark, though he has started clearing his garden in the afternoons.’
‘It’ll probably do him good. He’s very pale and gaunt,’ Bella said.
‘He was always pale. He has that kind of translucent white skin, but he’s way too thin and he’s so edgy.’