Page 7 of The Village Shop for Lonely Hearts

Amber was nonplussed. Surely Cathy understood that she was just passing through for a couple of days before flying out to New Zealand to join her parents? OK, so she hadn’t booked her onward flight yet as she was just waiting for her deposit to come back from her landlord on the room she had rented in New York. But once she had enough to pay for the airline ticket she would be leaving.

‘I’m sure this is all a bit of a comedown after your glamorous time in New York,’ said Cathy, with a kind smile.

Amber shook her head. ‘Not at all,’ she told them, not wanting to admit how distinctly unglamorous her life had been up until that point. She had bought some new clothes in the Manhattan shops, some of which were currently en route somewhere in her lost suitcases, the rest being shipped on to New Zealand. But most of her money had been swept up into the high cost of living in one of the most expensive cities in the world.

‘It’s so nice to have company, for a change,’ said Grandma Tilly, reaching out to help herself to a biscuit. ‘We get a bit lonesome around here these days.’

Amber hesitated. ‘Doesn’t the shop keep you busy?’

They both exchanged a sad look before Tilly turned to face Amber once more. ‘At one time, we were rushed off our feet. When I ran the shop with Bill, my husband, it was the hub of the village. But that was a long time ago. After he died, Cathy, Todd and the boys moved in.’ Tilly gave a little shrug of her shoulders. ‘But times change, don’t they? People pass away or move on. Now most of the folk in the village are strangers. They come home from school and work and close their front doors. Time was when you would keep your doors unlocked as neighbours were always popping in and out. But, like I said, that’s ancient history. Now it’s all deliveries from that big supermarket and Amazon. Nobody comes by that often.’

Amber let them chat on about the business, which all seemed pretty precarious. But they remained cheerful despite the fact that there was a lack of customers. She wondered whether perhaps Cathy’s famous husband, Todd, had made so much money from his guitar playing that their lives were relatively comfortable and that the struggling shop wasn’t that big a deal.

After they had finished their coffee, Cathy persuaded Amber to head downstairs to the shop once more. ‘Josh will show you around properly now that you’re all nice and dry. I’ll tidy up and then we’ll follow you down,’ said Cathy.

Amber went down the wooden staircase and stopped, hesitating as she really didn’t want to face Josh again so soon after falling into the river.

So she stood and stared around the stockroom instead. She looked at the many piles of boxes, all fighting for space. And then at the rusty tractor as well. What was it doing inside? And what on earth did they need a small tractor for anyway? She couldn’t understand the reasoning behind it.

The sound of heavy footsteps clattered down the staircase and Josh nearly ran her down as he rushed into the room beside her.

‘Hey,’ he said.

Amber noticed that he had also got changed and was now wearing a different pair of jeans and sweatshirt. He must have been changing in his bedroom but hadn’t joined them afterwards for coffee and biscuits. He was probably avoiding her, she thought.

His dark hair was still a bit spiky from where it had been wet and she had to concede to herself that he had grown into a good-looking man. She found herself wondering whether he had a girlfriend and what he was doing stuck in such a quiet village.

The silence stretched out as she tried to think of something to say.

‘I was just wondering about the tractor,’ she eventually said, forcing herself to stop staring at him.

‘It was my dad’s,’ he told her. ‘He bought it to try and get it going, but he never got round to doing it up before, you know…’ Josh’s voice trailed off.

‘I’m sorry.’ Amber felt bad, having brought up what must be painful memories. ‘You must miss him.’

Josh nodded. ‘Yeah. Anyway, the tractor’s stuck here,’ he carried on, before adding under his breath, ‘like a lot of other things around here.’

Amber didn’t know what to make of this so remained quiet.

Cathy and Tilly were making their slow way down the stairs.

‘Haven’t you made it into the shop yet?’ said Cathy as they finally reached the bottom.

Amber shook her head.

‘Come on then,’ said Josh, turning away.

So Amber followed him into the shop, with Cathy and Tilly close behind.

As she tried to find somewhere to stand without knocking anything over, easier said than done with everything so crowded, Cathy went over to the long counter which was in the far corner.

‘So!’ she said, in a very jolly tone. ‘What do you think of our little empire?’

Amber smiled and nodded her approval, all the time praying that her face didn’t show how she really felt about the state of the place. It wasn’t good, she thought, staring around. The interior was so dated that it gave off a very tired and old-fashioned feel and not in a country-charm kind of way either. On top of that, the place was packed with shelving units right up to the ceiling, which meant it also felt very crowded and almost suffocating. Every available surface, including the counter where the till stood, was piled high, but it was all so random. There was washing powder and loo rolls. Then newspapers. Eggs. Plastic toys. It was a real mish-mash of goods. There were also a couple of fridges, but whereas one held a small amount of milk and cheese, the other two were dark and switched off. Presumably so they could hold yet more random stock.

Amber found herself thinking that if she lived in the village, she probably wouldn’t come in here either.

But, to her surprise, the bell above the front door jangled as somebody came in. A man in his late sixties weaved his way through the narrow aisles, carefully picking up a newspaper as he moved.