does your mum think about you coming back here?’
Sinking down on the wide ledge of the window display, Beth dropped her head into her hands. ‘I haven’t told her,’ she muttered.
‘I can’t say I blame you, but you’ll have to tell her at some point.’
Beth nodded. ‘I haven’t even told her I quit my job.’ She lifted her face to meet Libby’s sympathetic gaze. ‘You know what she’s like.’ Her stomach churned as she pictured her mother’s reaction. Beth could explain her reasons until she was blue in the face and Linda would see it as a failure; would put the blame on Beth the same way she had when she found out Charlie had broken up with her. It would have to be done at some point, but not yet. Not until she was sure she was actually going to stay.
Libby winced. ‘Me and my big mouth. I’m sorry, B, forget I even mentioned it.’ She fiddled with the dial until she found a station full of the latest hits. ‘That’s more like it.’ Libby shook her hips hard enough to give Beyoncé a run for a money as she brandished the feather duster.
The loud music was nothing Eleanor would’ve stood for more than two minutes. Beth swallowed away the lump in her throat. Trying to keep everything the way her old friend had had it would only make things worse. If she was going to think about running the place—even for a little while— she would have to put her own stamp on things. With the music blaring away, they set to on the floor and windows singing and laughing at the tops of their voices. As the dust cleared and the happy atmosphere settled, the old ghosts receded to their dark corners. For now.
‘Where’s the rest of the wine?’ Sam frowned as the drayman from the brewery unloaded the last of the stock into the rear yard. ‘I ordered two-dozen from the new quality range featured in the latest promotion.’
The man dumped a tray of soft drinks on top of the nearest stack then pushed back the cap on his head to scratch at his fringe. ‘Didn’t see nothing other than the usual wines on the manifest. Let me fetch it from the cab.’
‘All right. I’ll be back in sec.’ With a lurking sense of suspicion Sam jogged inside and up the stairs. ‘Dad, have you seen the orders folder?’ He stuck his head around the corner of the kitchen door to find Paul sorting through the previous night’s takings—the takings Sam had already tallied, checked and made up ready to pay in later. His gut tightened in annoyance at the sight.
Not making any attempt to disguise what he was doing, his dad waved his pen in the direction of an open folder on the other side of the table. ‘Is there a problem?’
Sam started leafing through the paperwork. ‘I’m not sure, I ordered some new wine but it’s missing from the delivery.’
Paul capped his pen. ‘Oh, I cancelled that. People don’t want to waste their money on over-priced plonk. This isn’t your fancy restaurant where customers will pay over the odds for a pretty label.’
‘Jesus Christ.’ Sam rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the headache he could feel brewing. ‘And it didn’t occur to you to mention that to me?’
‘Mind your tone. It’s still my name above the door to this place. And no, it didn’t occur to me to tell you I’d cancelled it any more than it occurred to you to run the idea past me in the first place.’
Ouch. He had a point, but still… ‘I talked to Mum about organising a gourmet evening, something a bit different to draw people in while it’s quiet. When I saw the deal, it seemed like an ideal chance to get some decent wine in. I was going to plan the menu around it.’
‘Hello?’ A shout came from down below, cutting off whatever response his dad might have made.
‘Shit. I left the drayman, hang on a minute.’ Still seething with frustration, Sam ran back downstairs to apologise for the mix-up and sign off the delivery. He waved the man off, then secured the tall metal gates protecting the rear yard.
The stacks of cans, bottles and casks of beer seemed to mock him when he turned to face them. He should go upstairs and have it out with his dad, but in the mood they were both in, one or other of them was likely to say something they’d regret. A bit of manual labour would help him work off the edge of his temper. Unhooking the keys from his belt, Sam unlocked the double doors to the cellar and began to transfer the new stock down the short flight of steps.
He’d just about finished when the side door next to the rear gates opened and his mum came bustling through, a number of empty carrier bags folded in her hands. ‘Well that’s Beth’s freezer all stocked up. Good idea of yours to give her some of our leftovers, there was only half a lump of cheese and some tomatoes in her fridge. Some homecooked food will do her the power of good. She’s making really good progress next door, I’m so proud of how well she’s coping. Everything all right with you, love?’ She beamed at him on her way inside, then suddenly drew to a stop. ‘No, you’re not all right if that thundercloud lurking on your brow is anything to go by.’
Sam couldn’t help but smile. His mum had always had a funny term of phrase, and he hadn’t heard that one for years. ‘Just a misunderstanding with the stock, nothing to worry about.’
Annie picked up the manifest from the top of the last remaining stack. ‘Did the brewery make a cock-up? That’s not like them.’
Hefting a couple of the trays, Sam shook his head. ‘Dad cancelled that new wine I talked to you about.’
‘Oh. I see.’ The edge of the manifest crumpled in her fist. ‘Stubborn old fool.’
Arms aching, Sam put the trays back down then moved to give her a quick hug. ‘It’s okay. I should have talked to him about it.’
Annie patted his back. ‘And he needs to recognise how much you’ve given up to help us, darling.’ She looked up at him, the lines of strain on her cheeks clear at such proximity. ‘I don’t tell you often enough how much I appreciate it. How much we both appreciate it. I’ll have a talk with him, okay?’
Sam nodded. ‘We’ve been doing crisis management for what, six months now? There’s too many blurred lines. I know he’s finding it hard to deal with taking a back seat, but it’s like he doesn’t trust me to do anything.’ And now he sounded like a whining child. He puffed out a breath. ‘It’ll be fine, Mum. I’ll admit I was looking forward to playing around in the kitchen again, but it’s no big deal. Don’t say anything to Dad, yet.’
‘Well, if you’re sure…’Annie didn’t sound convinced.
‘I am. Let me have a think about things and then we can all sit down when tempers aren’t running hot.’
‘Okay, but not too long. I don’t like seeing you unhappy.’ She cupped his cheek. ‘Please try and remember than none of this is about you. Your dad is so proud of you, and he’s always been your biggest fan. We’ll talk him around.’
Not feeling as confident as her about that, Sam made himself smile. ‘Sure thing, Mum. I’ll get the last of this stock sorted and then make a start in the bar.’
‘Good boy.’
He shook his head. ‘You’re still going to be calling me that when I’m fifty, aren’t
