Page 37 of The Village Inn of Secret Dream

She rushed out before he could interrogate her any more, anxious not to break her promise to Grandma Tilly.

Pete frowned as he watched Belle close the door behind her, disappearing into the inky black night beyond. Who on earth could she be meeting on a Monday night?

Not that it was any of his business, of course.

But still, her secretive manner had concerned him. Was she in trouble? Was she upset? Apart from being hacked off with him, he wasn’t sure.

Of course, Belle had always been a closed book in regard to her emotions. But he had always been the one to cajole her into talking, especially in those early days when she had still been so scarred from her parents’ disastrous marriage.

More often than not, she would disappear for hours on end, with Mick and Angie tearing their hair out with worry as to where she had gone. It was Pete who had discovered her that first time when looking for her in the countryside, following the river as it split off into smaller tributaries along the way. One stream wound its way through a nearby wood where there were many ancient trees in various stages of decay. The largest one was almost hollow inside and Josh and Pete had been messing around in there all summer, hiding inside the huge empty trunk and jumping out to give each other a fright.

In a rare moment of openness, Belle had declared the hollow tree trunk a magical place. And that was where Pete had guessed he would find her. And he had been right, to his relief. She was curled up in a corner, arms wrapped around her skinny knees, her brown eyes sparkling with tears. Apparently she had made contact with her dad to ask about their future plans. He had told her in no uncertain terms that her life with them was at an end and that she was staying put in Cranbridge.

‘Good,’ she had muttered, when she had finished telling Pete about the phone call. ‘I never want to leave here anyway.’

Pete remembered how much she had loved the peace of Cranbridge after her tumultuous early years. And why she had been so defensive of the inn in recent weeks.

He sighed heavily to himself. In trying to help, it felt as if he had only made matters worse.

He looked up to find Ned, the only customer in the inn, watching him.

Pete gave him a nod. ‘Can I get you another drink?’ he asked. ‘On the house. I’m going to pour myself one.’

Ned shook his head. ‘You won’t make a profit that way, son. Not that you Kennedys ever worried about things like that.’

Pete looked at him questioningly. ‘I’m sorry, but have we met?’ he asked.

‘Not since you were a mere lad.’ The elderly man stood up slowly, shrugging on his coat and slipping on his flat cap. ‘I’ll be off now.’

Pete noticed he had a hole in the sleeve of his coat.

He watched Ned leave and continued to stare at the door after it closed behind him. He made a mental note to ask Josh about Ned. His face rang a very vague bell but Pete couldn’t recall where he recognised the elderly man from.

Pete continued to stare at the door for a while longer before glancing at his watch, once more questioning where Belle had gone to. He had a sudden thought that she might have even gone out on a date? And then wondered why on earth it mattered so much to him. He was just looking out for her, as he had always done. That was all. Wasn’t it?

21

‘So, what do you think?’ asked Pete.

Belle stared down at his phone and read the advert on the screen once more.

‘Top-class chef needed for brand new restaurant,’ she read out loud. ‘Michelin star quality a bonus. Will be able to design creative menus for discerning customers.’ She looked back up at Pete. ‘Discerning customers?’ she said, before looking around the inn, which was completely empty that Wednesday evening apart from Frank and Stanley.

It was ironic, she thought, that the inn was so empty in the evenings when you couldn’t move in the place during the day without tripping over somebody working on the inn. All day, there had been hammering on the roof as the tiles were secured, as well as the general chatter among the plasterers as they patched up the outside wall and the builders singing along to the radio as they repointed the chimneys.

It didn’t help that the scaffolding made it even darker inside, added to the fact that the lights were flickering on and off as the rewiring of the electricity still needed to be done.

‘The customers will soon arrive just as soon as the good reviews start coming in,’ said Pete in a confident tone as he took back the phone from her proffered hand.

‘Don’t you think that the builders need to finish the downstairs kitchen first before you start hiring anyone?’ she asked.

Only that morning, yet another skip had arrived and the whole kitchen had been dismantled, leaving an empty shell in its place.

Pete shook his head. ‘No time. We need to get this place up and running in order to maximise our profits over the coming months. Especially the Christmas trade. Think how much we could take in pre-bookings alone if we get the right chef.’

Belle nodded but was still concerned about Pete’s plans as she headed over to put another log on the fire. She just wasn’t sure where all these new customers were going to come from. But perhaps he would be right. Perhaps the new, more upmarket clientele would be flooding in from the surrounding area.

Then again, she thought, as the front door opened and Dodgy Del came in, perhaps not.