Head for the Hills, page 28
“Nuisance call. I blocked it.”
He quirked his big bushy eyebrows. “Okay. You all right on your own out here for a while?” He beckoned the barman. “I need some help out the back.”
Amber glanced around. There were a couple of men at the other end of the bar and two small groups set up around the high tables. “Sure, I can manage.”
As Fred and the barman left a customer stepped up to be served. The phone started ringing again.
“You want to get that?” The bloke nodded in the direction of the phone.
She shook her head. “What can I get for you?”
He gave his order and the phone stopped. Amber had just finished serving when it started again. She left the bar to collect empty glasses. There was no way she’d be answering the phone again.
She turned back to the bar with hands full of glasses as Fred reached over and picked up the phone.
After the initial pleasantries his gaze lifted to hers, his bushy eyebrows raised.
She gave a slight shake of her head.
“Not here, mate, sorry,” Fred said and disconnected.
Amber went behind the bar and stacked the glasses into the crate for washing.
“That call was for you,” Fred said.
“Sorry.”
“Sounded a bit like that bloke that was asking for you the other day.”
Amber gripped the handles of the crate as Fred came around the bar and stopped beside her.
“Want to tell me what’s going on?”
Amber’s hands fell to her sides. Tyson could ring anytime from another phone. Anyone who worked at Fred’s pub could take the call and hand the phone to her, or even worse, give more details about her life here. She turned to Fred.
“It’s Tyson. My ex.”
“Giving you a hard time?”
Amber nodded.
“Well, he won’t be welcome in my pub and I’ll let the rest of the staff know not to take any calls for you…okay?”
Fred’s look was so earnest Amber almost wanted to hug him but she stayed where she was. “Thanks, Fred.” From the corner of her eye she saw a woman approach the bar. She moved off to serve her.
Amber chatted while she poured the drinks, the easy banter releasing her angst over Tyson. There was nothing to stop him from turning up here again looking for her but she felt safe for now. This was an extra busy period for pubs and he was unlikely to leave Penola to chase her while he was earning good money. The holiday season had bought her some time.
Margot pulled up outside the butcher shop, ignoring the harsh sound of her tyre rim grating along the kerb. After dashing out to collect Geraldine earlier in the day, she’d forgotten all about picking up her Christmas meat. She just had time to collect it and get it home before she had to return for the gingerbread-making session at the Prov.
There were two women in the shop and only Kev behind the counter. The sound of their urgent discussion ceased as Margot stepped inside. One of the women was Sandy. All three stared at her in surprise as if they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t.
Sandy was the first to move. “Hello, Margot.” She took a wrapped parcel from the counter. “Thanks, Kev. Merry Christmas. Have a good break and I’ll see you in the new year.”
“I’d better be off too,” the other woman said. Margot smiled and nodded as she passed. She recognised the woman as a local but not someone she knew well.
Margot watched them leave, the air around her heavy with words unsaid.
“Come for your Christmas meat?” Kev went to the fridge and came back with a cardboard box full of white paper packages. “There you are.” He gave her a nod then looked away.
“Did you remember a kilo of those rissoles Dennis liked?”
“In the box.” Kev patted one of the parcels.
Margot took out her purse and paid, still feeling the weight of something in the air that she’d disturbed with her entrance. Kev normally chatted ten to the dozen but not today.
“Is everything okay, Kev?” she asked.
“Just the usual weariness for this time of year.”
Margot glanced along the counter but it was clear of anything that resembled the petition.
As if he sensed what she was looking for, Kev ducked under the counter and bobbed back up, flapping it in his hand.
“I won’t be having this here any longer,” he said as he pushed it towards her. His gaze didn’t meet hers but was low as if he was checking the array of meat on display in his cabinet. He’d spoken softly, almost apologetically, so she thought she’d misheard.
“Is it full? I can print more.” Margot lifted the first page, which was filled with signatures, but the second had only a few.
“I know I was against the hotel development originally but now that I’ve found out a bit more about it I—”
“From who?” Margot recalled the sudden silence when she’d walked in and Sandy’s hurried departure. “People gossiping in your shop probably don’t have all the facts.”
“I’ve thought about it a lot, Margot, and I think a boutique hotel will be good for business.”
“How?” Margot was so shocked by Kev’s turnabout her question came out as a scoff.
Kev’s face went a deeper red than his usual ruddy complexion. “Xavier Zamon paid me a visit to explain how the hotel might be of benefit to the community and to my business in particular.”
“I’m not sure how much you can trust what that man says.”
“Why not? It made good sense to me.”
“What did he say?”
“That the supermarket would be looking to me first to supply their meat.”
“What’s he got to do with the supermarket?”
“He’s the one who got the company on board to purchase Teakles’ place. The boutique hotel won’t have a restaurant but each room will have basic kitchen facilities and—”
“The proposed hotel.”
Kev shook his head. “You know, Margot, the only thing holding it up is some of the local community and I think it’s very selfish.”
“Selfish!” The shock of such a suggestion fizzed and bubbled inside her. “How can you say that? Jesserton is dear to my heart, dear to many people’s hearts. A hotel like they’re proposing would change everything.”
“Not all change is bad you know, Margot.” His words fell softly.
“Of course I know that.” She picked up the box of meat and Kev placed the petition pages on top.
“The new hotel would be a boost for your business too.” He nodded towards his window and The General Providore just over the road.
“The Prov doesn’t need a boost.”
He looked surprised at that. “Kath’s been talking up a few changes and plenty of people have appreciated the longer opening hours.”
“That’s as may be but we might not be able to sustain them.”
“The hotel might mean you could. If even half of what Xavier’s been talking to me about goes ahead it will mean I can keep my shop open.”
“You were thinking of closing?”
“I didn’t want to. My dad started this business. These last few years I thought I’d be the one closing it.”
“You sell such good quality meat.”
“I get a lot of local support and a bit from Sheffield but not many from further afield make regular trips here for their weekly meat shop. Jesserton’s out of the way.”
“Which is what makes it special.”
Kev shook his head. “Teakles’ was run-down, my business was struggling, I know even Greg was talking about cutting back his hours. The local community alone isn’t enough to keep our businesses afloat any more.” He looked Margot fully in the eye for the first time since she’d entered his shop. “I think we need this new hotel.”
thirty-one
The General Providore was abuzz with the chatter of children and the conversations of their parents gathered for the annual gingerbread biscuit–making session. Numbers were down from previous years but those who were around the table icing and decorating their biscuits were having a wonderful time.
Kayla was there with her two boys and she’d kindly offered to help oversee Isabella as Emily couldn’t stay. Margot was just setting out some extra bowls of icing when the waif-like child next to her granddaughter waved a spatula in the air smearing icing in all directions, including Isabella’s hair. Margot was able to gently relieve him of his colourful weapon and distract him with lollies to put on the gingerbread star he’d been decorating. His baby sister was toddling around, spreading spilled icing and shoving dropped lollies in her mouth. Margot glanced around for their mother but she was on the other side of the table deep in conversation with Kayla, oblivious to the antics of her unruly children.
Margot was just wondering how she could tactfully redirect the woman to come and supervise them when the boy called out to her and she headed over.
She admired her son’s handiwork and plucked the toddler to her hip. Ignoring the sticky hands and the colourful dribble running from her child’s lips she turned to Margot, who was subtly trying to edge Isabella’s biscuits out of reach of the waif-child.
“You’re Kayla’s mother-in-law, Margot, aren’t you?”
“That’s right.”
“Thanks for organising this. My son loves being creative.”
Margot glanced back at the boy. If spreading icing and lollies from one end of the table to the other was being creative he was certainly that. She pulled her lips into a smile.
“I’m glad they’re enjoying themselves. I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before.”
“I’m Summer, Larry’s partner. You’ve probably seen him in here. Loves his chai. We’ve just moved into that property on the edge of town. The rambling stone house with the green roof and various sheds. With working on the house and all the animals to look after I don’t get out much.”
“Oh yes, Larry was the one who was after some laying hens. Did he get some?”
“Yes. We’re planning to sell free-range eggs and Kayla was saying you might stock them here.”
“We have a supplier at the moment but we’ve lost our back-up and we like to have another provider in case supply drops off.” Margot winced as the little boy splattered more icing everywhere, green this time.
Summer continued, oblivious to her son’s wild behaviour. “Kayla also said you had a petition about stopping the hotel development.”
“I do.”
“I’d like to sign it and I’m sure Larry would too. We moved here to get away from the rat-race. Jesserton appealed because it seemed like a nice community with not so many tourists clogging up the street. A boutique hotel would bring a lot of extra people. We’re worried it will change the lovely close-knit community vibe here in Jesserton.”
“My husband and I feel that way too,” Margot said. She was still jittery after her conversation with Kev earlier. It was reassuring to talk with someone who thought like she did, even if they were new to town. “We think there should be more attention paid to meeting the needs of the permanent residents rather than those who are here for a day or two.”
“Whereas I’m the opposite.” Kath had moved up beside them with a tray ready to collect the empty lolly and icing containers. “Those day and overnight trippers bring extra money to the town that helps it to thrive.” She nodded to the table of busy children and parents. “So we can keep doing things like this that end up costing us money rather than making it.”
Margot was surprised by Kath’s snappish comment. “This is more about providing a fun local activity than making money.”
“I know.” Kath sighed. “I guess I’m just disappointed we didn’t get the usual numbers. We normally have two tables going. There’s lots of gingerbread dough left.”
“We can make it into biscuits to sell,” Margot said chirpily, wondering when she’d get the time to do that.
“I might sell a few with coffees tomorrow morning.” Kath sniffed. “I heard some of the families didn’t come because they wouldn’t support a business that was against progress.” She looked at Margot as if it was her fault.
“I’m not against progress,” Margot blustered. “And I wasn’t going to mention it but I heard the opposite.”
Kath’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“It’s true.” Summer set her squirming toddler back on the floor. “There was a lot of discussion about that at the mums’ group Christmas party. There are others like Larry and I who don’t want some fancy hotel full of entitled rich people cluttering up the town. Our kids won’t be safe. Some of the mums were pretty fired up and saying they were shopping elsewhere because someone here in your shop was all for the hotel.” She stared at Kath whose cheeks flushed a deep pink.
The toddler reached up and took one of her brother’s biscuits and he began to yell. Summer ducked down to deal with her children.
Margot nibbled at the corner of her fingernail.
“Well, I was busy this morning.” Kath said it as if it were a competition. “I sold out of bread and we made a stack of coffees and food to go. They were mostly locals.” And with a “so there” air she hoisted the tray of crockery she’d collected and set off for the kitchen.
The Prov had been busy over the weekend too, but when Margot thought about it some of their regulars hadn’t come in. Of course they could be away but she couldn’t help but replay Tess’s comment from Friday night about people not coming into the shop if she was here and Kath had just suggested the same. She collected up some more of the detritus from the decorating table and followed Kath.
“What was all that yelling about?” Kath asked.
“Summer’s little girl took one of her brother’s biscuits.”
“I hope she dealt with it.”
Margot glanced back. Summer was holding the toddler and leaning over the table to help her son. “She is.”
“We’ll have to wash the chairs and the wall where he was sitting. I don’t mind exuberance but that mother doesn’t seem to care what her kids do.”
“She was saying they were planning to have free-range eggs to sell.”
“Eggs! It’s her kids who are free-range.” Kath nodded towards the shop. “Those two have made more mess than all the others combined.”
“You seem a bit uptight, Kath. Are you sure you should be opening the extra hours?”
“I’m fine. It’s just people like that one out there that get up my nose. New to town and already telling us how we should do things. Opposing the hotel.”
“She was telling me they moved here for the alternate life, away from the rat-race.”
“One hotel’s hardly going to create a rat-race.”
“It’s not just the hotel, it’s you wanting the Prov open seven days, a fancy supermarket—”
“I thought you liked the idea of a gourmet supermarket.”
Margot groaned. “I did…do. We’re a big enough community to warrant a small supermarket but as you say it’s the extras they’ll do, catering for tourists. Did you know Sandy’s doing up her back room and advertising for a masseuse?”
“I did hear about that. It’s something she always wanted to do.”
“I wonder why now?”
“Why not now? You seem to be concerned about the smallest of changes, Margot. Since when have you become so set in your ways?”
Margot frowned. “I like change as much as anyone but not to the detriment of others.”
Kath huffed out a breath, her usual vibrance nowhere to be seen.
“It’s such a busy time of year,” Margot said. “Everyone’s a little strung out. Perhaps we should take an extra few days’ break. Close between Christmas and New Year.”
Kath drew herself up. “I’m fine and I don’t want to lose the momentum I’ve started. We’ll be closed Christmas and Boxing days. I told you I’m happy to do the hours and it’s my weekend to work before New Year anyway. You can take the whole week off if you want. The casuals we’ve taken on are both very good and I’ve decided to stay open all day on the Monday and Tuesday.”
“You’ve decided.”
“You made it clear it was up to me.”
“Yes, but it’s clear to me you’re overdoing it.”
Kath shook her head. “We’ve got the staff and they want the hours. As I said, we were quite busy this morning and we turned a few away this afternoon when they thought we were open.”
“It’s getting out of hand.”
Kath frowned. “What is?”
“Everything.” Margot swept an arm in the air.
“You know I’m keen to expand but you don’t have to be involved. In fact, you can take more of a back seat if you want.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re moving in other directions these days. If you can’t do the days you’re committed to you’ll need to pay for staff to cover.”
“I can do the days I’m rostered as we originally decided when we set up the business.” Margot’s insides swirled with a mix of anger and unease. “Anyway, you just suggested I have time off. What’s going on, Kath?”
“Nothing’s going on, other than I want to run The General Providore as a full-time business and you don’t. I thought if you took some time over the Christmas break to think about that, we could come up with a new business arrangement in the new year. Either fifty-fifty like we are now but with the extra hours or, say, seventy-thirty if you want to do less.”
Margot could only gape at her friend as the swirling sensation inside her became an overwhelming wave of anxiety. The shop, Dennis taking on the new brand at the dealership, the hotel and the community unrest, as well as her decision to run for mayor – there was so much happening. She was being pulled in every direction when all she wanted to do was think about the delicious lunch she was planning for her family for Christmas.
“Nanny!” Isabella’s wail startled her. The little girl was standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with alarm.
“What is it, darling?” Margot bobbed down and as she did big tears began to roll down Isabella’s cheeks.
“That boy took one of my biscuits.” She threw herself into Margot’s arms as another yelp and a cry came from the shop.
