It's Raining Men Part 18

'Let's pretend we are flattered and that he didn't look at us as if we were dirty old predatory cougars,' said Lara. She had chosen rum delight. There were big pieces of truffle chocolate in the mix. She mmm-ed with pleasure as they made their way to one of the seats facing the sea. It was obviously one of Gene Hathersage's creations, with its back made of twisted branches. He had an incredible talent. She wondered if he sold them. He'd be a fool if he didn't. He must do or how else did he make his money? How did any of the locals make money if no one ever came to Ren Dullem? Did the money just circulate from one business to another?

'Isn't it a strange place, Lars?' said May at last. 'I feel as if I've stumbled into a book.'

'In the horror section?'

Lara knew exactly what May meant. But this weird little place was better than the real life waiting for her back in Surrey. She was content to stay here, even if their holiday was marred by meeting some of the rudest people on the planet.

After they had finished their cornets, and as they set off at a slow walk back to Well Cottage, a brown van came rumbling down the road. The gold lettering on the side read: Hathersage Farm, Fresh Meats. Lara noticed that the van had quite an effect on her friend. She could virtually hear May's heart racing from a metre away. Interesting, she thought.

The van pulled to a halt in front of them.

'h.e.l.lo, ladies!' The jovial, kind face of Frank Hathersage appeared through the driver's window. 'Having a nice day?'

'Yes, thank you,' replied Lara. May appeared to be struck dumb. 'That your farm up there? The creamy-yellow one?'

'Yep, that's mine,' said Frank, pride in his voice.

'It must have a fabulous view of the harbour.'

'It does. Especially when there's a storm. It can be very dramatic. I should open up the farm when the weather is bad and charge for the view. Exploring the village, are you?' He was looking at May but it was Lara who answered again.

'Yes, we are.'

'Well, there's one place you should visit: the ice-cream shop over there,' said Frank. He pointed through the window with a huge square hand a farmer's hand.

'Just have done,' Lara replied with a smile. 'And we tried to buy a coffee from the kiosk but, strangely, it closed as we were about to order.'

'Old man Unwin is a funny one don't take any notice,' said Frank in a low voice, as if old man Unwin had bionic hearing and could pick up what he was saying. 'He's Daisy's uncle.'

That figured, thought both May and Lara together.

'His wife is in charge of the school clothes shop,' Frank went on. 'That's likely to shut up too if you try to venture inside.'

'Oh, that's a shame. I'd run out of black plimsolls and was going to call in.' Lara laughed, wondering why May wasn't joining in with the conversation even though she and Frank Hathersage couldn't keep their eyes off each other.

'We've had lots of your bacon since we've been here,' said Lara, scrabbling around for something to say now, seeing as May wasn't helping. 'Absolutely delicious.'

'I'll drop some off to you at the cottage, if you like.'

Lara was going to say not to trouble himself but she thought that May might like that very much.

'That's kind of you. If you're pa.s.sing.'

'I'll make sure I am. Well, enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Lara, Miss May.'

He knew their names. The whole village probably knew more about them by now than they knew about themselves.

'And you,' said Lara, giving May a nudge.

'Yes, the day, enjoy it all of it,' said May, sounding like a defective talking doll.

Frank drove off with a toot of his horn and Lara raised her eyebrows at May.

'You fancy him,' she said with a grin. 'You'd better keep right out of Daisy's way. It won't be just your foot she runs over with her wheelchair.'

'Oh, shut up, Lara, and let's get a coffee,' said May, marching off. Yes, she fancied Frank Hathersage like mad and was trying not to. She knew they would get on like a house on fire if they were left to it and her thoughts had escaped to him often. But she'd already been with one man with a so-called disabled partner and her heart had been mashed to a pulp in the process. She wasn't going to make that mistake again.

Chapter 39.

Jenny was delighted to see their faces, that much was obvious. The cafe was empty so they could sit at one of the lovely tables in the window. They were only going to order a coffee, but the menu was so tempting that they found themselves requesting afternoon tea as well.

'No one ever orders afternoon tea,' said Jenny with glee thick in her voice. 'It'll be a pleasure to make it.' She wobbled off behind her counter, rubbing her hands as she went.

A three-tier cake stand arrived, the top layer packed with tiny cream scones and pastries stuffed with custard and creme patisserie, and on the other two plates were d.i.n.ky sandwich triangles: egg, cress and spring onion, cheese and pickle, crisp cuc.u.mber, ham, crushed celery and tomato.

'Blimey, I'll never eat all this,' said Lara.

'No, you won't. You'll eat half.' May reached for a cheese and pickle. 'Tuck in.'

'We've just had ice cream.'

'So?'

'You've suddenly found your tongue now that Frank Hathersage isn't around.' Lara winked at her.

May sniffed. 'Don't be ridiculous, Lara.'

'Where's your other friend?' asked Jenny, bringing over a big old pot of tea and two delicate blue and white cups.

'Swimming,' Lara replied through a mouthful of egg sandwich. 'She's part mermaid, that one.'

Jenny dropped the tray of tea. One of the cups smashed and boiling water splashed onto May's leg.

'Oh G.o.d, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?'

'I'm fine,' said May, rubbing at her bare leg and trying not to show that it did actually hurt quite a bit.

Lara was on her knees picking up bits of crockery. The teapot had survived, surprisingly. Jenny returned with towels and a sweeping brush.

'You should have left that for me; you might have cut yourself.'

'It's fine, Jenny, really.'

Jenny's soft grey eyes were br.i.m.m.i.n.g with tears as she sponged up the water. 'I'm so sorry.'

'No harm done at all.' Lara squeezed her shoulder. 'Why don't you sit down with us and steady yourself?' Lara pulled a chair from another table and patted the seat. She gently pushed the shaking Jenny down onto it.

'Want a sandwich?' asked May, trying not to think about the throbbing spots on her leg. 'They're delicious. I can recommend the chef.'

'No, I'm all right, thank you,' said Jenny, blowing her nose on a napkin and then smiling gratefully at May's kind comment. It was quite obvious that the young woman didn't have a lot of confidence in herself.

'Is this your own cafe, then?' asked Lara, trying to cheer her up with some conversation.

'Well, the village owns it but I suppose you could say it's mine, yes.'

Lara couldn't help thinking that was a weird way of putting it.

'So you don't own it?'

'No,' said Jenny, having considered her answer before giving it, as if worried she were being trapped by a trick question.

Not something else weird, please, thought Lara.

'It's a grand little business,' said May. 'Lovely food. Did you go to catering college?'

'No!' Jenny laughed as if that was a totally absurd suggestion. 'My mum used to run it. I took it over when she and Dad retired last year. I just picked up how to cook from her.'

'She must have been a very good cook.'

'Yes, she-'

The door to the cafe opened as if a battering ram had been placed behind it. In a way it had been it was Daisy's wheelchair. This time she was followed in by a reed-thin woman wearing thick gla.s.ses, a sour expression on her very plain face and a knitted top that even Lara's granny wouldn't have been seen dead in. Jenny leapt up from her seat as if she had been caught red-handed fraternizing with the enemy, which she had, really. The air seemed to chill around them.

'Hi, Daisy, Pauline,' called Jenny, with hopeful buoyancy in her voice that they'd play nicely.

If looks could kill, Jenny would have been impaled like a human dartboard.

'Two cappuccinos, sprinkles, and two pieces of chocolate dream cake,' said Daisy, her nose wrinkled up with disdain.

'Please,' added the mousey Pauline, getting out of the way whilst Daisy wheeled herself into position so her legs were underneath a table. She was making a lot of crashing noises as she did so. Lara didn't hold out much hope for the long-term preservation of Jenny's furniture if Daisy Unwin were a regular customer.

Daisy and Pauline immediately started to gossip, their heads close together, the object of the game clearly being to unsettle the other customers. So Lara and May remained steadfastly unsettled by it.

Jenny brought out replacement cups and a fresh pot of tea, setting them on Lara and May's table before she delivered the cappuccinos and cake to the gossips. That didn't go down well. May heard some very disgruntled mumbling coming from Daisy's mouth when Jenny took over the cutlery and serviettes.

The atmosphere in the cafe had changed with the arrival of Daisy and her crony. The temperature had plunged and there was a perceptible crackle in the air of electric disapproval. May and Lara nibbled on their sandwiches, certain that Daisy wouldn't be able to resist making her feelings audible. They were right.

First the exaggerated sniffing started. This was followed up by: 'Jenny, are your drains okay? There's a funny smell in here.'

Lara did an involuntary snort. She was suddenly catapulted back to her junior school days sharing a cla.s.s with Ca.s.sandra Wath the cla.s.s b.i.t.c.h and big-mouth. The last time Lara had seen her at Christmas, when she visited her parents Ca.s.sandra had been stocking up freezers in Iceland the shop and had a spot on the side of her nose the size of Iceland the country. She had grown into the face she deserved: a permascowl that said, 'This woman is too mean to be happy.' It was the sort of face Lara thought Daisy would have in a few years' time. She was starting to get it already.

Jenny didn't answer.

'There were some gay boys in town today, apparently, Jenny,' Daisy said loudly. 'One had pink hair. Offc.u.mdens. Lowering the tone of the place.'

'I think she's bracketing us in there.' Lara giggled, setting May off.

At last Daisy made a direct approach. 'I don't know what's so funny. You aren't welcome here. No one wants you here.'

'Maybe not,' said Lara, drying her eyes on a serviette. If Daisy Unwin wanted a battle, then Lara would pick up her gauntlet. 'But Gene Hathersage wants our money. So we're staying.'

'How long for?'

'Three months at least,' replied Lara, as sweet as sugar. 'We may even move in. With our families.'

Pauline started choking on her cappuccino.

'Gene Hathersage is an idiot,' spat Daisy.

Lara wasn't going to argue with her on that. But she did feel like throwing a few mischievous twigs onto the fire.

'His brother is very handsome, though. We like his meat,' she purred.

This time Daisy started choking. Jenny disappeared behind the counter like a bartender in a western.

'You stay away from my Francis, you pair of s.l.u.ts,' screamed Daisy. 'And you can tell the witch to stay away as well. f.u.c.k off, the lot of you, back where you came from.'

'Calm yourself, Daisy,' Pauline said, as firmly as her thin voice could manage. 'Come on, deep breaths.'

'I'm not well,' Daisy barked, a furious tremor in her voice as she breathed in and out deeply. Enough was enough. Lara wasn't feeling the fun any more. She didn't want to goad Daisy into an asthma attack. She put twenty-five pounds in notes on the counter in front of Jenny, telling her to keep the change. As she and May left the cafe she heard Daisy's dulcet tones behind her: 'And good riddance. She puts me off eating with the scar on her face.'

Incensed, Lara turned on her heel to go back in but May caught her arm.

'Leave it, Lara.'

'How dare she . . .'

'Don't rise to it. She wants us to react.'

'Ooh, I want to slap her so hard,' growled Lara. How dare the b.i.t.c.h say that about May. It was cruel and unnecessary. Even more so coming from a woman in a chair who must know what it was like to have a stigma.

'Poor Frank. I think he's going to end up more unhappy than his future wife,' said Lara, letting May lead her away from Jenny's cafe.

May didn't answer. She merely followed Lara through the village and up the hill, wishing she were worthy enough to deserve someone as gorgeous as Frank Hathersage.

'Guess where the second set of steps downstairs leads to?' said Clare, as soon as May and Lara walked into the cottage. 'I've been dying for you to get back so I could tell you. Only Raine's cottage on the headland.' Clare couldn't wait for them to answer.

'How did you find that out?' asked Lara, kicking off her shoes. 'Don't tell me you climbed up the second set of steps and there was a door at the top?'

'I did indeed. And there was,' Clare replied, with a proud nod of the head. 'I tell you, there's something really strange about this village. I mean, really strange. If you heard the conversation I heard through the door to Raine's cottage, you'd feel the same.'

May crossed the room to put on the kettle. 'Go on, then, Sherlock. Intrigue us.'