Page 46 of Matilda’s Summer of New Beginnings

‘What would you be doing otherwise?’ Jay asked me teasingly. ‘Churning over everything in your mind? Making a voodoo doll of Damien because not only has he got a sneaky exhibition, but he’s disrupted your normal life too? Figuring out ways to avoid speaking to Rosie in case you say the wrong thing?’

‘Ouch.’ Those barbs hit home. But he wasn’t wrong. I sighed. ‘You’re not wrong, Jay,’ I conceded. I would be doing any and all of those things, plus many, many more. ‘I’m just not sure that Padcock village would take kindly to me rocking up in the bar and then trying to help Polly in the tea room. It would look like I was interfering.’

‘I think people would guess you were being helpful, rather than interfering. But yeah, it’s not fair. To be honest, we’ll probably close the Spatchcock for a few nights because there’s only me and Sam. We could put the honesty box out I suppose. That might work for a couple of nights.’

‘The honesty box?’

‘Yes.’ Jay grinned. ‘It’s a Padcock institution. In times of great need, we put the honesty box out. People help themselves to the drinks and pay into the box.’

I was surprised at that one. ‘But what if people are dishonest, and take trebles instead of doubles, or large wines instead of small ones? Or simply don’t pay?’

Jay shrugged, uncomprehendingly. ‘But it’s Padcock. Nobody does anything like that.’

‘Wow.’ I was quiet for a moment, thinking of a punter I’d once served who had filled his pockets with bar snacks, complained to the manager that the bowls were empty and demanded compensation. ‘Okay. I’ll help you tonight. And I’ll give Polly a call. I need to see her anyway, so I’ll nip over to the tea room if she’s coming to open it, and have a quick look. It can’t be that different to the places I’ve worked before. She probably knows more than she thinks — it’ll just be she’s doing it all on her own and that can be daunting.’

‘Thanks Tilds. You’re an absolute star.’ Jay leaned over and, to both our surprises I think, he hugged me.

No sooner had we realized what was happening, we sprung apart as if we’d been burned. I pushed my hair behind my ear and folded my arms. That was weird. We’d had brief, chummy hugs before, and even a peck on the cheek at Christmas once, so I didn’t really know why I felt so jittery now. Perhaps because I remembered falling upon him and snotting all over his chest yesterday, mid-hug.

Had that really only been yesterday?

Gosh.

Or maybe the awkwardness was because we were the only two people in the entire building.

Now that was a thought . . .

No! Not a naughty thought (well, maybe I had a brief flirtation with what could happen between two single people in a deserted Spatchcock . . .). But I quickly, and deliberately, changed it to a food-related musing.

‘Jay. Where can I get breakfast today please? I’d have gone to the tea room, but I doubt Polly will open this morning.’

‘You can have a Spatchcock breakfast,’ he replied. ‘Of course. That’s what you paid for. Bed and breakfast.’

‘But — Sam’s not here, and I can’t expect you to do it.’

Jay laughed. ‘We do have an actual chef here. But, having said that, he’ll not be coming in this morning. Sam’s not here, like you say, so we won’t be doing food. That was the understanding. It was all sorted weeks ago. Once the baby came, food would be off the menu until Sam was back at work properly and everybody knew that. I’ll message Sam and the chef, and reassure them you’re sorted — and I’ll make your breakfast. How does that sound?’

I couldn’t help but grin. ‘That sounds great! Thank you.’

‘Super. I’ll see you downstairs in half an hour then?’

‘Half an hour,’ I agreed. And, laughing, I closed the door on my early-morning caller.

* * *

Jay was a pretty good cook. My breakfast was a Full English, and he sat with me and had his own plate as well, so it was very companionable indeed.

‘I need to call Polly now,’ I finally said, folding my napkin up and placing it by the plate. ‘See if she can come over at some point today and open up the tea room. I’ll have a look around the place with her, and we’ll see what we can do. And!’ I said, tapping Jay on the back of the hand. ‘You need to go and have a look in the corner shop.’

‘For what?’ He was curious.

‘Pink baby stuff. Don’t you think it would be nice to have the Spatchcock decorated for Cerys and Sam’s return with Elin?’

‘Oh! Yes — I could do that. I could ask Flora. Flora does events for a living. She might have some ideas . . .’

I couldn’t help but laugh. ‘She might, but all you need to do is hang a few balloons and banners up. Go on with you, go and have a look and see what the shop has. We’ve still got time to get something if they don’t have anything suitable—’ I stopped. Had I heard myself correctly? We? There was no “we” about it. I shook my head and stood up. ‘Okay. I’m going to nip to my room and find Polly’s number, and give her a call. Do you need a hand with anything down here? Washing up or suchlike?’

‘You’re a guest! Of course you don’t need to wash up.’