Save Our Shop

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Book excerpt

Chapter One - A very frustrated helper

In the picturesque village of Snuggleton-near-the-Sea, the afternoon was drawing to a close at the end of a hot summer’s day. The sun still shone on the few remaining villagers taking a stroll before supper, and everywhere seemed peaceful and serene – except for a time bomb about to go off in the village shop halfway down the High Street.

Inside, Mavis Foxey was fuming. With every passing minute she was becoming increasingly annoyed at her missed opportunities. All afternoon she had been doing her best to attract the manager, Albert Bridge, and get him involved in a full blown scandal, and any moment he would be asking her to bring in the display boards, signalling the end of another day.

Her pride depended on it. In her view, it was time for immediate action. The thought of what Fred – or Foxy Fred, as her husband was known - would say if she failed him, when his whole ambitious building scheme depended on it, sent a cold tremor down her spine. It wasn’t the only reason, of course – if she pulled it off she stood to win a substantial bet with her friend, Enid. She smirked to herself. That was something she’d never had any trouble with before, as most of the men in the village would testify to their cost.

Aware the time was slipping by she attacked the keyboard with renewed fury and was gratified to see she had hit the jackpot. Immediately, a total of £9,999 flashed up. That should do the trick, she decided. Taking a quick look around, she carelessly undid the top three buttons of her blouse and shook her hair free.

“Oh dear, I don’t think this till likes me,” said Mavis raising her voice, as she checked the total. “That can’t be right, what do you think, Mr Bridge?” she called out and as he reluctantly came up to see what was wrong, she brushed against him as if by accident.

It was coming up to five-thirty and all Albert Bridge wanted to do was to shut up shop and get home to his supper. It had been a long day and he was tired. The bread had come in late and the greengrocery order was up the creek; his usual assistant, Jackie, who did all the ordering, was away sick, and the temp they were promised hadn’t turned up. The last thing he wanted to do was to get involved with an old biddy like Mavis.

Normally a friendly and trusting person, Albert was reaching the end of his tether. Usually, he was never short of female help when he needed it, especially from some of the more elderly spinsters who were always looking in for an excuse to linger. But it was holiday time and there was scarcely a soul around –except Mavis. He didn’t mind giving a pat of encouragement to some of the locals who helped to keep the village shop going – but he had to draw a line somewhere. His long suffering friend, Hettie, always smiled patiently when Mavis’s name was mentioned, saying the old ‘man-eater’ had a face that would stop a bus a mile away. Although he was always ready to defer to her better judgement where such matters were concerned, on this occasion he thought she was underestimating – two miles, more likely. He backed away hastily, avoiding the open invitation.

“Why don’t you finish off and go home, Mavis – I’ll sort it out,” he said hastily. “I expect your husband will be home by now, wanting his supper. We don’t want to keep him waiting, do we?” he added heartily.

“But just look at this figure.” Adding emphasis, she tugged at her blouse, and leaned forward provocatively. “I don’t like the look of it, do you?”

“No, I can’t say I do,” he agreed truthfully, averting his gaze as he tried to edge past her, and winced at the sight of the figure displayed on the till. “Oh, blimey, what the heck…?”

“Don’t say I’ve been naughty,” she said coyly, tossing her hair over her shoulder in her best imitation of her favourite screen idol.

“I don’t believe it….” He was saved from saying what he really thought by the bell tinging at the entrance. The tousled head of Jim Berry, the accountant appeared and he burst breezily into the shop.

“Cashed up already - that’s the stuff. Can I bank the takings then?” He took one look at Albert’s red face and clenched fingers, and continued quickly, “Ah, the inimitable Mrs Foxey. Evening, Mavis. Till still working, is it?” He glanced at the total and whistled, getting out his calculator. “My word, been buying up the shop again, have we?”

Mavis pulled herself up. “I consider that remark most uncalled for, Mr Berry. I think I’ll go home where I’m wanted.”

“Well, that’s something – old man working late again, is he?”

“Oooh! That does it! I’m not staying here a minute longer.” Catching sight of a tramp lurking outside and recognising Bimbo, the local walking talking Post Office, she added loudly, “…and you can tell your Albert Bridge to keep his hands to himself in future. Goodbye, and don’t expect me back.” Sweeping her things together Mavis sailed past them, satisfied she had done her bit to get the rumour started.

“Wait a minute, Mavis,” Albert called after her hastily as he juggled with the keyboard. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it, did you, Jim?”

Slam.

Albert sighed. “That’s torn it. What did you want to go and say a thing like that for, you idiot.” He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. “What was she going on about, anyway?”

“Sorry, Bert,” Jim apologised with a grin. “Couldn’t resist that – I bet I know where she’s off to…”

But Albert could only think of his own problems. “That’s another volunteer gone – you know how difficult it is to replace them, especially in the holidays. Now what am I going to do?”

Jim heaved a sigh. “Never mind, I’ll cover her shift for a while, until you find someone.”

Albert relented. “That’s all right – you do too much as it is.” He looked at the figures and sighed. “I suppose we’d better get the takings agreed, otherwise I’ll be in the doghouse at the bank – that’s the third time this week.”

“Right,” agreed his friend briskly. “Tell you what - you count the notes and I’ll do the small change. We’ll soon get it sorted.”

Ten minutes later they both sat back satisfied, their immediate problem solved.

“That seems all right, Bert,” said Jim, gathering the notes together. “Got a bag for this lot – not exactly a fortune, is it?”

“You can say that again,” agreed Albert, feeling depressed at the thought, then dismissed it, determined to keep such nagging fears to himself.

As they reached for their coats, Jim said thoughtfully,

“Sorry about that, I forgot it was holiday time. What’ll you do about…?” He left the question hanging in the air.

“We’ll see. Leave it with me…” Albert turned the problem over in his mind as he switched on the alarm and locked the shop door behind them.

Emerging into the High Street, he took a deep breath of contentment he always felt at the familiar sight of the century old cottages wending their way down the cobbled street in front of them, blending beyond into a shimmering thin ribbon of sea on the distant horizon. Overlooking it all was the reassuring presence of his cottage a few yards away, and next door to that Hettie’s and her smallholding, her pride and joy.

Waving a hand, he said thoughtfully, “Makes it all worthwhile somehow. It’s a beautiful spot, isn’t it?”

Jim nodded his agreement. “None better.”

Stopping at Jim’s car, Albert reminisced. “It’s what first caught my eye when I came down here on that coach trip nearly five years ago, looking for somewhere to settle down before I retired – I’ve never regretted it, not once. Which reminds me, the shop’s anniversary comes up soon,” adding gloomily, “not that I’ll be able to splash out on anything, the way things are going.”

As he climbed in, Jim suggested a solution that might tide them over. “What you want is someone to help out until you can get straight. Which reminds me, that nice young Sally who teaches up at the school is always asking if there’s something useful she can do in the holidays.” In answer to Albert’s blank look, he shook his head regretfully, “Though I doubt if that old battleaxe of a mother of hers would allow it – you know what Lady Courtney is like. I know,” he added, struck by a sudden thought, “isn’t that nephew of yours at a loose end? Perhaps he could give you a hand.”

“Young William?” Albert pondered. “Might be worth trying – I don’t think he’s made up his mind yet about what he’s going to do with himself. Got some idea at one time about becoming a painter, so I’m told…”

Jim laughed. “Tell him he can have a go at our old house whenever he wants. It needs a lick of paint.”

“No, he’s after a full blown career as an artist – although not all that long ago he was talking about doing some writing of sorts. Mind you, I don’t know how he’s going to manage on what little my brother was able to leave him after that accident,” sighed Albert ruefully. “Aunt Ethel got the house and the job of keeping an eye on him, and I don’t think she’s pleased the way things are going.” He rubbed his chin. “Come to think of it, that’s not a bad idea. A spell in the shop might help him sort his ideas out. It might get him out of doing relief work on that local rag – can’t see that leading anywhere. I’ll see what Hettie thinks and let you know,” he said, waving a hand in farewell before turning in at his front gate.

“At least, you don’t have to come far to get the shop open,” laughed Jim, as he adjusted his seatbelt. “See you…”

“Bye, Jim, and thanks for your help…”

He was still turning the problem over in his mind as he shut the gate behind him and turned to walk up the path to the front door.

“Hi there!”

Jerked out of his reverie, he looked up to see Hettie leaning out of an upstairs bathroom window next door, a cloud of steam billowing out around her.

“Give me a minute to throw something on and I’ll come and let you in. I’ve got your favourite all ready for you.”

“Cor!”

Conscious of hot breath fanning his neck, Albert turned, caught sight of Bimbo behind him gazing up at the sight, his mouth open. Having witnessed the hasty departure of Mavis leaving the shop in an agitated state a few minutes earlier, the tramp put two and two together with a sharp intake of breath.

“Cor!” he repeated, and without asking for his usual handout – knowing that eager faces would be only too willing to reward him after hearing his latest gossip - he hastily flung a leg over his bike and wobbled off down the High Street in search of the nearest pub and his first free drink of the day, ready to spread the word that promised to be one of the most rewarding scandals the village had ever known.

Cheered up by the thought of supper Albert dismissed Bimbo’s ramblings, and finding there was still no news about his assistant waiting for him, made his way next door.

After giving him her usual welcome kiss, Hettie noticed something was amiss and tried to cheer him up.

“What’s the matter, Bert?” she asked, easing off his jacket. “Don’t worry about the post - I picked up some of yours when I was in earlier,” she explained, as she noticed his eyes stray in that direction. “Come and sit down.”

“Oh, blimey, that’s all I need,” he groaned after skimming through the letters and picking out the first one he recognised by the writing.

“What’s up? Someone made an offer for the shop? Only joking. Bad news, is it?”

“Only that Jackie’s had orders from the doc to take some more time off, that’s all.”

“Jackie – you don’t mean your assistant?” Seeing his gloomy expression she added hastily, “Sit down and make yourself comfortable while I get you a cuppa.”

In no time she was back with an encouraging beam and a steaming mug. “There you are, luv, I’ve tickled it up with some of your favourite tipple. Now tell me all about it.”

After taking a sip, he smacked his lips appreciatively and feeling more relaxed told her about Mavis and the trouble with the till, before getting down to tucking into a welcome steak and kidney pie she placed before him.

“Thank goodness you’re shot of her,” was her verdict. “Silly old cow.” Then she chuckled, “Jim’s got her taped though, hasn’t he? We all know about her afternoons with the lodger.”

“Doesn’t make it any better in the shop though, does it? I can do with all the help I can get just now. I don’t know how much longer I can carry on the rate things are going.”

“If only you’d let me help, Bert,” she fussed. “You know we all want you to succeed.”

“I know.” He looked away, distracted by the sight of her look of eager devotion, and hurriedly swallowed the last mouthful. “That was delicious. Which reminds me, I must try to get hold of William tomorrow and see if I can get him to give a hand in the shop. It might help him decide what he wants to do with his life.”

Hettie said without thinking, “If only I didn’t have the animals to look after, I could come and help you more…”

Bert stopped her firmly and thrust the tempting idea from his mind, aware of his insecure financial position. “Don’t worry – I’ll manage somehow. I’ve still got my redundancy money and pension, such as it is.”

“I know it was always something you wanted to do, but,” she went on impulsively without thinking, “was it such a good idea to give up a such a safe job in insurance…” Seeing his reaction, she broke off and went on hurriedly, “to start something so different - when we’re not getting any younger,” she added tactfully.

He slapped the table in frustration. “That’s just it. You don’t understand, Het, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I was getting so bored and frustrated!” Having got that off his chest, he brooded, “The thought of wasting the rest of my life dealing with other people’s insurance until I retired was driving me dotty – I tell you, I even ended up checking my own life expectancy table. I woke up one morning and realised I had to do something different – anything was better than the life I was leading. So I decided to get away from it all and start up my own business - to be my own boss. It seemed to make sense and I still think I did the right thing. You’ve no idea what it means to be part of the village life, watching my own business grow as part of the community, instead of sitting at a desk and spending the rest of my working life in an office. Grr.” He looked up, surprised at his own eloquence. “Sorry about that – I got carried away a bit.”

“I’m sure you did the right thing – it’s what you wanted,” Hettie reassured him. Thinking back, she mused, “It’s funny the way things have turned out - you’ve got the shop and I’ve got my animals. D’you think you’ve taken on too much though? Don’t forget there’s young William to think about.”

Albert sighed. “Yes, and he doesn’t seem to know what he wants.”

“You’ll be telling me you don’t know what you want next,” she tried hopefully, touching his hand.

Sensing he was on dangerous ground he pushed his chair back hurriedly. “I think it’s time I got back. I’ve got all that paperwork to catch up on. Thanks for the supper – you spoil me.”

“I never get the chance properly, do I?” She heaved a sigh, doing her best to look on the bright side. “Don’t worry, things are bound to get better. I know,” searching in her mind for a helpful way out, “what happened to that other brother of yours – Neil, isn’t it? Couldn’t he take some time off to help? Wasn’t he some sort of high flyer in the civil service?”

“Not exactly,” said Albert sheepishly, wondering how to put it as he always did when talking about his brother Neil, who ever since he could remember had always been frowned on by the other members of his family. “He… er… found it wasn’t quite his cup of tea – too dull. He decided, like me, to go in for something more enterprising in the private sector. Something he could get his teeth into.”

As he spoke, he thought back to the last time he saw his young brother. Neil hadn’t actually bitten anyone. But he certainly left one of the bobbies sucking his hand that time, and it had taken half a dozen reinforcements to persuade him to accompany them down to the station, while still protesting his innocence, after leading a revolt by fellow stallholders in one of his never-ending battles with some of the more officious members of the local Council.

Albert tried to imagine what a difference it would have made to have his go-getting young brother around before dismissing the idea regretfully. Neil had gone a bit too far this time to be in a position to do anything - he was still finishing off a community service sentence and wouldn’t be around to help anyone for a while. Albert was an upright law-abiding creature, and although he loved his brother dearly, the thought of what Neil might do to improve the present situation made him quake inwardly.

He continued hastily, “No, I think he’s a bit tied up at the moment – I’ll try young William instead and see how he’s fixed.”

As she waved him off she called out encouragingly, “Don’t worry. We’re right behind you, Bert – and don’t forget William, I’m sure he won’t mind you asking.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” called back Albert, relieved at the change of conversation. “I don’t think they work him too hard on that local rag of his – I expect he’ll be glad of the chance to help.” To himself, he added, “Heaven help me if he doesn’t…”