It was two days later when Brooke saw Hayden again. He was looking very different from the last time she’d seen him, well-groomed in a smart shirt and skinny jeans ready for his shift. Brooke got a waft of his aftershave as he joined her behind the bar. She inhaled deeply, trying not to look too obviously like she was smelling him.
‘Hi,’ he said, smiling warmly. ‘Miss me?’
She smiled back. ‘I’m not answering that. Did the girls have fun the other day?’
‘Yeah, they’ve not stopped talking about it. Cara and your nephew seem to have hit it off. She loves anyone who lets her boss them about.’ He helped himself to a bag of peanuts. ‘I’ll pay for these. Rushed here straight from a job so I haven’t had any tea.’
‘Do you ever not rush here straight from a job?’
‘Not these days.’ He sighed as he ripped open the peanut packet and threw a handful down his throat. ‘It feels like the girls are growing up before my eyes, Brooke, and I’m hardly there to see it. That day we bumped into you on the rec was the first time we’d spent any significant time together for weeks. As much as I hate turning work down when every penny counts, I do need to start making more time for my kids before they stop being kids any more.’
‘You should. They obviously think you’re the mutt’s nuts right now. That won’t last forever.’ She smiled uncertainly. ‘You’re not thinking of leaving us though, are you?’
‘Course not.’ His gaze drifted to the pumps. ‘Not just yet.’
‘Still struggling for money?’
‘Well, I’ve got enough put aside to tide us over for a little while. Still, you never know what’s going to be around the corner.’
Brooke hesitated. The fact was, with Rhianna committing herself to becoming an active partner in the business, from The Highwayman’s point of view Hayden was kind of dispensable. From Brooke Padgett’s point of view… well, she’d miss him like hell.
But he had two kids at home he was devoted to, and who needed him far more than the pub did. And God knew, getting over this… whatever this thing was that had Brooke staring at this thighs and surreptitiously sniffing him wasn’t getting any easier. He said he wasn’t as desperate for money as he had been. The unselfish thing would be to let him go.
‘Um, because if you did want to leave, we could probably manage,’ she said. ‘You wouldn’t have to feel guilty on our account.’
He blinked at her. ‘You want me to leave?’
‘No. I just thought, if you’re struggling… well, Rhianna’s here now. You probably want to be at home with your girls in the evenings, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I do, obviously, but…’ He reached up to rub the back of his neck. ‘…um, do you want me to go?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Course I’m sure.’ She met his eyes. ‘But I know we can’t keep you forever.’
‘No.’ He fell silent, staring at his feet, before summoning a smile. ‘No Rhianna today?’
‘She’s gone to meet some friend from Nantwich for a coffee. She ought to be here soon.’
Sure enough, Rhianna appeared at the bar within half an hour, a laptop under her arm.
‘All right, you two,’ she said. ‘Team meeting.’
Brooke blinked. ‘What?’
‘Team meeting. Mum says she’s delegating everything to us and we can fill her in on what we decide later.’
Hayden shot a bewildered look at Brooke. ‘Delegating what to us?’
‘No idea,’ Brooke said. ‘Rhia, what’s going on?’
‘I’ll answer that in the form of a PowerPoint. Come on. We’ll sit where we can see the bar, then we can pop back if anyone needs a drink.’
Rhianna’s eyes were shining with enthusiasm. Exchanging another puzzled look with Hayden, Brooke followed her to an empty table.
‘So what was that about a PowerPoint presentation?’ Hayden said.
‘That’s right, you lucky people. And…’ Rhianna opened her laptop and the sound of Adam and the Ants singing ‘Stand and Deliver’ started up. ‘…it has themed background music! Never say I don’t spoil you.’
The presentation had a title slide with the words Get SMART over a photo of the pub.
‘I’m confused,’ Hayden said to Brooke.
She nodded. ‘I’m also confused.’
‘James was obsessed with SMART goals for his projects,’ Rhianna said. ‘Targets that are specific, measurable, achievable, romantic and… telepathic. That might not be what the last two stand for. Anyway, it’s the specific and achievable we want to focus on.’
‘Right,’ Brooke said dazedly. ‘Do we?’
Rhianna nodded. ‘These are my ideas for improving the business. When I said I wanted to be more involved, Brooke, I wasn’t just talking about pulling pints.’
‘Well, I’m glad you’re thinking about how we can improve things. Let’s not get carried away, though.’
Rhianna laughed. ‘I know that look. Don’t worry, OK? I know you’re cautious about trying new things but I’m not going to force anything on you. Besides, we’ve got Hayden here as a neutral casting vote.’
Hayden shook his head. ‘Don’t go dragging me into it. It’s your business.’
‘Sorry, Hayd. Like it or not, you’re part of the team now.’
‘Er, thanks. That’s both flattering and terrifying.’
Rhianna clicked to the next slide, which was titled Problems.
‘So. Our issues.’ A bullet point slid into position. ‘Falling trade, and consequently falling profits. For over a year now, custom’s been dropping. Why?’
‘Dad died,’ Brooke said quietly. ‘The atmosphere seemed to change after that.’
‘I’m not sure I buy that, Brooke. You said the old regulars come in, same as always. It’s the younger villagers and the occasional trade we aren’t getting through the door, right?’
‘Well, yes, that is true,’ Brooke conceded.
‘So the groups we’re not seeing are…’ Rhianna clicked to bring up some sub-bullets. ‘Occasional trade – walkers, campers, holidaymakers – and new villagers, largely commuters, who ought to be joining the ranks of our regulars but aren’t. Am I right?’
‘Yes, that’s a fair summary.’
‘Why do you think the walkers aren’t coming in as much as they used to? Is there more competition locally now?’
‘Definitely. Willowtree have bought up three pubs in the surrounding area, including the White Bull in Morton. Had the places totally refurbed, revamped the menus, brought in new chefs. That’s where our occasional trade’s been drifting off to, I’m sure. We can’t compete with that sort of investment.’
‘Let’s move on.’ The next slide appeared, titled What We’ve Tried. ‘So far, we’ve introduced Knit and Natter mornings, a monthly bonus ball draw, book group, live music nights and a food menu. Has anything worked in terms of increasing custom?’
‘Not really,’ Brooke said. ‘Mum’s Knit and Natter group brings in decent numbers, but it’s first thing in the morning so obviously they’re not drinking. A dozen old ladies paying £2.50 for a cup of tea and a biscuit is barely worth us opening early for. The book group, similar problem. They meet in the evenings, but they’re busy talking literature so they’ll buy maybe one drink each over two hours. The live music we put on just pissed off the regulars who like this place because they can have a quiet conversation, and the food menu… well, we all know Mum isn’t the greatest chef. It feels like we’ve tried everything and profit-wise, it’s mostly been a flop.’
‘Live music aside, I can’t see any of that doing much to change the perception of this place as an old man’s pub,’ Hayden said. ‘What music did you put on?’
‘We had a folk group in a couple of times, then this rock covers band, Deff Buzard. We thought they’d go down well with the younger villagers, but we didn’t get much of a showing.’
‘I don’t think you should give up on the idea. Try a different band, or a different night. Get one that does stuff from different eras: Arctic Monkeys, Kaiser Chiefs, Red Hot Chilis and so on mixed in with your Stones and your Quo.’
‘What we need is more things like the quiz night,’ Rhianna said. ‘It’s far and away our most successful night of the week – even more so than Fridays and Saturdays. They’re busier, but the quizzers drink more.’
‘What else can we do, though?’ Brooke asked.
‘Well, we could try another band, like Hayden said. Open-mic nights could be popular with the younger folk, and karaoke. And…’ Rhianna clicked to her next slide, Solutions. ‘What about monthly theme nights?’
‘Theme nights? Such as what?’
‘Well, we’re getting the new chalkboard art next week, and the leaflets with the Dick Turpin connection emphasised. We could do a highwayman fancy dress night, couldn’t we? I bet there’s some anniversary we could exploit, Turpin’s birthday or something. If nothing else, the photos would look good on the pub Facebook page.’
‘We haven’t got a pub Facebook page.’
‘You’re kidding!’ Rhianna scribbled that down. ‘Right, well we’ll get that sorted out. That’s a huge missed opportunity.’
‘You’re sure we shouldn’t be running this stuff past Mum?’
‘I told you, she’s delegated it. She says fresh young eyes are exactly what this place needs.’ Rhianna smiled. ‘She did have one suggestion, but I didn’t think it was worth adding to the slides.’
Brooke laughed. ‘Let me guess. It involved Hayden’s trousers.’
‘Spot on.’
‘What about my trousers?’ Hayden asked.
Brooke patted his bottom. ‘Don’t you worry about it, cupcake. Just stay pretty.’
‘I feel objectified.’
‘I know, you lucky man.’ Brooke turned back to her sister. ‘What other theme nights could we do?’
‘I’ve got loads of ideas.’ Rhianna clicked through her bullet points. ‘Highwayman night, Christmas quiz and carols, Fright Night for Halloween, something to tie in with the Bunny Hop race they do over at the school, like a family Easter egg hunt in the beer garden… oh, and my favourite. This was inspired by what Mum was saying last night.’
‘Speed dating?’ Hayden read, as the next bullet point slid onto the screen.
Rhianna nodded. ‘Our mum was bewailing the fact that dating was all online now and there was no way for her generation to meet people socially, like they used to when they were young. But there is, isn’t there? A silver speed dating night would be perfect.’
‘I don’t know, Rhia,’ Brooke said. ‘I wouldn’t even know where to begin organising something like that.’
‘You can leave it all to me. It’s a great idea, isn’t it? There must be lots of older single people who’d love to meet someone but feel intimidated by online dating. Like those men you pointed out, the four widowers.’
While she was always cautious about anything that might alienate the regulars, Brooke couldn’t help being infected by a little of her sister’s enthusiasm.
‘What do you think?’ she asked Hayden.
‘It’s not up to me, is it?’
‘Yes it is. We told you, you’re part of the team.’
He shrugged. ‘All right, then I think it’s a class idea. I bet we’d pull people in from the neighbouring villages too, and even further afield if we set up a Facebook page to plug it on.’
‘Then if you’re both keen, let’s go for it.’
Rhianna beamed at her. ‘Thanks, Brooke.’
‘Is that it then? The end of the presentation?’ Hayden asked.
‘Nearly.’ Rhianna clicked to bring up the last point. ‘This is a big one, because it takes some thinking about. But Brooke, I’ve been through all the figures and I really don’t think we can justify locking Mum up in the kitchen every day, given how little we bring in from food.’
‘But if we stop doing meals, we’re the only pub in a ten-mile radius that doesn’t have a food menu,’ Brooke said. ‘That’s a big disadvantage, especially when it comes to the walkers. If they can’t get a meal here they’ll just go to The Blue Parrot instead, or walk down to the Bull.’
‘What have we got to tempt them through the door in the first place, though? We’ve got a menu of, what, six meals and a couple of puddings?’
‘We’re still very much a wet-led pub, yes – I mean, we have to be, without a proper kitchen staff. I just think we need something other than bar snacks on offer.’
‘I agree we need some sort of food offering, but I wonder if we could approach it differently,’ Rhianna said. ‘Let’s face it, we’re never going to be serious competition for the gastropubs with Mum’s cooking.’
‘Hire a chef, you mean? We can’t afford anyone who could compete with the Bull’s guy. He used to work at some Michelin-starred place before Willowtree headhunted him.’
‘I was thinking of a partnership with an existing village business. There’s no point being in competition if we can work together.’
‘What, you mean The Blue Parrot?’
‘Why not?’ Rhianna said. ‘You’re on good terms with them, aren’t you? It’s worth a chat.’
‘You know, that’s not bad,’ Brooke said slowly. She blinked. ‘Bloody hell. That’s actually a really great idea.’
Rhianna smiled. ‘Not as useless as I look, am I?’
‘We’ve run the refreshment tent with them at the 1940s event for the past two years. We could definitely extend that to a more permanent business relationship, if Theo and Lexie were keen.’
‘Theo is. I popped into the cafe earlier and spoke to him. With the baby due any day, I think he liked the idea of teaming up. He’s going to talk to Lexie about it tonight.’
Brooke was lost for words for a moment.
‘When she loses the power of speech, that’s usually a good sign,’ Hayden said to Rhianna.
‘I’m just… surprised,’ Brooke said. ‘Surprised and impressed. I didn’t know you were so business-savvy, Rhia.’
‘Neither did I. I enjoyed it though, putting a plan in place. I’m looking forward to getting cracking.’
‘Well, I, um… I appreciate your commitment.’ After all the times Brooke had accused her sister of conspiring to force her to sell the pub, she felt a bit guilty at the effort Rhianna was now putting in to save the place.
Rhianna glanced at the bar, where a couple of people were waiting to be served. ‘We’d better go back to work. I’ll start sketching out the details for the speed dating night later. Once we’ve fixed a date, I can get some posters printed.’
The three of them headed back to the bar. However, no sooner had they reached it than the background music from the pub’s hi-fi system stopped, the fruit machine fell silent and all the lights went out, leaving the place steeped in afternoon gloom.
‘For God’s sake, not again,’ Brooke murmured as a worried buzz broke out among the customers.
‘What is it?’ Hayden asked.
‘The electrics must’ve tripped. It happens every once in a while. I’ll go down to the cellar and sort it while you two serve these guys.’ She raised her voice for the benefit of the customers. ‘Sorry about this, folks. Just a temporary power cut; we’ll be all lit up again in five minutes or so.’
She grabbed the torch she kept under the bar and headed to the cellar.