Page 5 of The Village Shop for Lonely Hearts

In that moment, he felt the loss of his dad so much he had to blink back the tears. But his dad was gone and it was highly likely that soon the shop would be as well. Cranbridge Stores was on the brink of bankruptcy. He just didn’t have the courage to break the news to his family yet.

3

Amber headed up the stairs to the flat above the shop, all the time trying to listen to Cathy chat excitedly in front of her.

But Amber could hardly take it all in, thanks to her inner mortification. She had fallen in the river and, worse still, taken Josh with her! She had never been exactly dainty, but this was a terrible start to her stay.

More than ever, she just wanted this visit over with so that she could run away from her embarrassment. Hopefully she would be booking her onward flight for the following weekend and could escape her total and utter shame.

This was why things never worked out for her, she reminded herself. Because she was clumsy and stupid. Just like those teenage girls at school had told her over and over all those years ago.

She shivered, her wet clothes clinging to her as she followed Cathy across the cosy and homely-feeling living area. It had large oak beams which went all the way into the high apex of the roof. A pile of books and records were on top of an oak dresser. The kitchen cupboards along one wall were also made from oak and in the corner were a couple of comfortable-looking sofas and an upright armchair which was occupied by a tiny old lady.

‘Mother! Amber’s here!’ said Cathy, as they went across the creaky floorboards.

‘Welcome!’ said the elderly lady, smiling briefly before her face dropped in dismay as she looked Amber up and down. ‘Is it raining again?’

‘They fell in the river!’ Cathy told her, laughing. ‘Amber and our Josh. Can you imagine?’

‘How extraordinary,’ said the lady, slowly getting up to walk over to Amber. ‘That’s a welcome you’ll never forget! You won’t remember me, I’m sure. I’m Clotilde, my dear, but everyone calls me Grandma Tilly.’

‘Hello,’ said Amber, smiling down at her.

Grandma Tilly was only four feet tall, but it was a round and friendly face with surprisingly blue eyes amongst the wrinkles that looked up at her. Amber guessed that Grandma Tilly was in her late seventies.

Amber had a sudden memory of Tilly giving her an extra slice of birthday cake at a party when she had been hiding in a corner, as usual.

‘I haven’t seen you for many years,’ said Tilly, still smiling fondly up at her. ‘Always had your head in a book, if I remember. You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?’

Amber blushed, unused to receiving compliments.

‘Isn’t she lovely?’ said Cathy, putting her arm around Amber and giving her a squeeze. ‘Now, you must get changed before you freeze to death. Follow me. I’m sure I have something that will fit you, although you’re a lot slimmer than I am these days.’

They headed out of the kitchen-diner area and into a short corridor from which led two doors on either side.

‘That’ll be your bedroom,’ said Cathy, pointing at the door on the left. ‘But this is me.’

Amber followed Cathy into the first bedroom, which appeared to be the largest. It had a double bed and a couple of wardrobes, as well as an old dressing table. The window looked out over the side street.

‘Let’s have a look at what will fit you,’ said Cathy, flinging open a wardrobe door.

Amber was touched by Cathy’s kindness, but it really was adding insult to injury that she didn’t have her own clothes whilst her suitcases were lost in transit.

‘Here you go,’ said Cathy, holding out a pair of black leggings and a blue jumper. ‘I think this colour would be nice on you. I’ve got some shoes you can borrow as well as your trainers are soaking wet. Gosh, I can’t tell you how lovely it is to have a bit of female companionship around here.’ She glanced at the open bedroom door. ‘My mother has moved into a smashing little bungalow just down the lane this past summer,’ she added, in a whisper. ‘The stairs were getting a bit much for her on a daily basis, considering she’s seventy-seven now.’

Amber watched as Cathy brought out a large bath towel from a nearby drawer.

‘Thanks,’ she said, as she took the clothes and towel from her. ‘You’re looking well,’ she added, tentatively.

Cathy’s attractive face was more lined than Amber remembered. But of course, the years that had passed had been pretty stressful. Her hair was still worn wavy to her shoulders but strands of grey mingled amongst the auburn.

Cathy’s smile faded slightly before being fixed back into place. ‘Thank you, sweetheart,’ she said in an overly bright voice. ‘Six months in remission and counting!’

‘That’s great,’ Amber told her. ‘Mum was so worried when you were ill.’

‘We spoke almost every day when I was having treatment,’ said Cathy, sitting down on the bed. ‘And of course she visited when she could. Before they emigrated, of course. I do miss her. I mean, Josh is great, but you don’t want to tell your own son about all your aches and pains all the time.’

‘Where’s Pete living these days?’ asked Amber, trying to remember.