Page 33 of The Village Inn of Secret Dream

‘So you mean to paint everything grey, put some sofas in a corner and make it some bland business-lounge-type place?’ she had said, her voice laced with disdain. ‘This is an inn. You need to understand the charm of the place. You’re being too arrogant.’

‘And you’re being impossible,’ he had replied. ‘The whole place is too dark, too gloomy. And then there’s the food…’ His voice had trailed off. He had to be careful not to insult her aunt, but on the other hand, she had to realise how awful the food was.

‘Well, Aunt Angie’s not going to be around, so what are you going to do about the food?’ she had asked.

‘I’m going to hire a top chef,’ Pete had told her. ‘I’m already putting out feelers. I want to make this place top-notch. Preferably with a Michelin star or two.’

Belle had looked at him with wide brown eyes. ‘A Michelin star?’ she had stammered.

‘Well, perhaps that’s pushing it a bit far, but some kind of amazing menu anyway,’ Pete had said. ‘I’ve dined in plenty of places like that. Incredible restaurants around the world. Trust me, this certainly isn’t one of them.’

‘No, it’s not,’ she had replied hotly. ‘Because it’s a village inn.’

‘Inns can be modern too,’ he had told her.

‘Michelin star food?’ she had repeated, rolling her eyes. ‘Are you mad? Can you see Dodgy Del hunched over a single prawn and some caviar any time soon?’

‘Well, perhaps he can find somewhere else to eat!’ Pete had snapped.

‘So you want to alienate all our current customers, is that it?’ Belle had replied. ‘The ones that have kept us going all these years. Now you want to chuck them out and what, get your banker friends in here to look down their noses at us all?’

‘That wasn’t what I meant,’ Pete had said, realising that he had to try to defuse the tense atmosphere.

But Belle was too cross to listen to him and had carried on. ‘I mean, perhaps Grandma Tilly will want some sourdough bread for her chip butty? Or what about some chickpeas instead of apple crumble for your mum?’

‘Listen,’ Pete had said, almost shouting so that he could stop her from carrying on. ‘This is how it’s going to be. So if you don’t like it…?’

‘What? You think I’ll just walk out? Not a chance.’ She had put her hands on her hips and leaned forward. ‘I’m going to be here every step of the way to make sure that you don’t completely destroy everything that I love about this place.’

With that, she had spun around and marched out of the inn lounge, leaving Pete sitting on his own and wondering how they were ever going to work and live together when they were so far apart in every other respect.

As Pete dragged his suitcases through the upstairs apartment, it felt as if he was heading back into the lion’s den. He and Belle had actively avoided each other during the past few days but that was no longer an option now that they would be living and working together.

He just hoped that the changes would make all the difference to The Black Swan’s business. And that he and Belle would still be friends at the end of it too.

But at that moment, he wasn’t certain about either.

18

Later that day, at six o’clock precisely, Belle watched as Pete went across to unlock the front door to the inn.

She had actively stayed out of his way that afternoon whilst he had been unpacking his belongings in the apartment upstairs.

‘Ta-dah,’ said Pete, looking almost pleased at the prospect of being a landlord.

As he walked back towards the bar, Belle told him, ‘You need to turn the Closed sign over.’

‘Oh. Well. Never mind,’ said Pete, with a shrug. ‘Our regulars will know that we’re open and until I get this place sorted, we won’t have any other sort of customer anyway.’

Belle continued to polish the glasses as he stepped behind the bar to stand next to her.

‘So what’s next?’ he asked.

‘Everything’s sorted, thanks to Uncle Mick,’ she told him. ‘The beer is all connected in the cellar, everything’s topped up here in the bar. Aunt Angie even left some of her delicious cuisine in the freezer in case anyone’s hungry.’

Pete shuddered. ‘Not a chance,’ he muttered. ‘That lot’s being thrown out as soon as the first skip arrives.’

They both looked up as the front door was cautiously pushed open a little.