Chapter ten
Pippa and Morgan satat the bar and sighed simultaneously as Brett closed the pub doors. He leaned back against them and groaned. ‘Ugh, we could have done with Oliver here. My hips are killing me now. I had three barrels run out one after the other. I didn’t think I was going to make it back up from the cellar after I’d re-connected the third one.’
‘You head on up, Brett. Pippa and I will sort out the bar and cash-up ready for this evening’s shift.’
Brett shook his head. ‘No. I’m not leaving all the jobs for you girls. It’s not fair. You’ve already worked hard enough in the kitchen.’
Morgan pointed her finger towards the door, which lead out to the stairs and up to the living quarters above the pub. ‘Go on. That’s an order.’
Pippa nodded in agreement. ‘Yes, go up, Dad. You’ll be good for nothing if your arthritis flares up any worse than what it already is now.’
Brett nodded and rubbed at one of his hips. ‘Thanks girls. I think I will go up—if I can make those darn steps, that is.’
Pippa and Morgan watched Brett disappear through the door, and then Pippa blew out a long breath. ‘I agree with Dad. We really could have done with Oliver today.’
‘Oh well. We survived didn’t we? And Oliver won’t be here for much longer, so we’ll have to get used to working without him. At least until we sell the pub.’
Pippa stared at her aunt’s face, trying to read it for signs she was hinting the pub was going on the open market soon, but Morgan had a good poker face. ‘What are you suggesting, Aunt?’
‘Your father finally agreed with me. We’re getting someone in for a valuation tomorrow.’
Pippa’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. ‘Really?’ Morgan nodded. ‘I can’t quite believe it’s happening.’
‘Are you upset, Kiddo?’
Pippa gauged the sudden tightness in her chest and ball in her stomach and nodded. ‘Yes, I think I am. The thought of strangers living here is...weird.’
Morgan rubbed her hand up and down the small of Pippa’s back. ‘I know, but with neither you nor your brother interested in taking over the business, your father has no other option. Plus, he’s nearing retiring age now, anyway. A few years earlier than planned won’t hurt—especially considering the circumstances.’
Pippa grimaced as she was reminded of her father’s dementia, which she had carefully filed away in the back of her mind once he’d returned from the memory clinic. Her face pulled tight, and she turned to face her aunt. ‘Guess who told me he was interested in making an offer if he could get a sleeping partner?’
Morgan’s brow creased into a row of lines as she raised it questioningly. ‘Who?’
‘Oliver.’
‘What?! When?’
Pippa looked sheepish. ‘Sorry, I might have accidentally mentioned the pub might be going on sale to him.’
Morgan’s mouth dropped open. ‘Oliver? I thought he was happy and doing well with his own business?’
Pippa shrugged. ‘All I can tell you is he expressed a genuine desire to own the pub. Apparently, he’s wanted to work here since he was old enough to, but never got the chance because of his move to America.’
‘Hmm. That’s interesting. I wonder who the sleeping partner would be.’
