After Max left, I popped round to the flower shop next door where Polly was perched high up on her stool at the worktop, seeing to some paperwork. She smiled as she looked up to greet me.
‘What are you doing tonight?’ I asked.
‘Um, let me consult my very busy social calendar.’ She ran a fingernail down her order pad. ‘Yes, as I suspected, absolutely nothing. Why do you ask?’
‘Great. Fancy going out for something to eat at that new pizza place in town?’
‘Well in the unlikely event that Daniel Craig is going to waltz through that door and whisk me away from all of this, then yes, I’d love to,’ said Polly, her face lighting up.
I didn’t take many nights off work and having already organised cover at the pub for my date with Max, it seemed a shame to see the evening go to waste. Besides, it had been far too long since Polly and I had a proper catch-up, I realised, as I sat across her from the table in the restaurant later.
‘So where’s Max tonight then,’ Polly asked, as she topped up my glass from the bottle of Prosecco in the ice bucket.
‘Well, he’s had to go off to the airport to collect his sister, Katy. Between you and me, she’s been having a few problems at home, so she’s coming to stay with Max for a little while.’
‘I didn’t even know Max had a sister,’ said Polly. ‘I guess you’ll get to meet her then?’
‘I hope so. I haven’t met any of his family yet, well apart from Noel, but that was before I even knew Max. I’m not sure he’s terribly close to Katy. She’s about twelve years younger than him and they didn’t spend a lot of time together growing-up. Obviously they’ve seen each other a few times over the years, but I think only for fleeting visits. To be honest, Max doesn’t talk much about his family.’
‘Oh right. Well, he’ll have no choice but to get to know his sister now,’ said Polly wryly.
‘Exactly. In a way it’s a good opportunity for them all to build some bridges. Although I think Max is a bit apprehensive about how it will work out. As he says, he’s not used to dealing with teenage girls.’
‘Well, at least they'll be doing it in style, up in that lovely manor house in Little Leyton, he could take in a whole minibus full of orphans if he wanted to. I’ve always thought what a shame it is that it's only him rattling around inside there.
‘I know,’ I chuckled. ‘It does seem a bit mad.’
I’d thought the same the first time I’d visited the manor. I’d been overwhelmed by the scale and grandeur of the place. With over ten bedrooms, state-of-the-art appliances, oak woodwork throughout and acres of landscaped gardens outside, it was like something from a glossy magazine. I’d wafted around the place, waltzing up and down the vast sweeping staircase with a flourish, imagining myself to be a movie star from a bygone age. It was a stunning house, a showpiece, but lacking in that one vital ingredient, that something indefinable, that turns a beautifully constructed house into a warm and welcoming home.
‘Anyway, how are you doing now?’ I asked her.
Polly lifted her chin, her eyes narrowing as though not having the faintest idea what I was talking about.
‘You were a bit down the other day,’ I reminded her. ‘About Johnny?’
‘Johnny who?’ she said sharply, before a smile caught on her mouth. ‘Oh, I’m sorry about that. I was a right old misog that day, wasn’t I? I shouldn’t have offloaded on you like that.’
‘Don’t be daft. We’re friends. That’s what I’m here for. I know I might seem preoccupied with the pub at times, but anytime you need to talk, I’m here for you.’ I leant over and placed my hand lightly on hers. ‘I mean it, Polly.’
‘Thanks, Ells.’ She sighed, intertwining her fingers together. ‘I know Johnny and I hadn’t been together that long, just a matter of months really, but I thought we had something special, something that might go somewhere. I could never have imagined he would just up and leave the way he did.’ She lifted her gaze from her fingers. ‘He broke my heart, but what can you do?’ she asked, a weak smile forming on her lips. ‘I can’t waste any more time pining over him. As much as I might not like it, Johnny’s moved on and that’s what I have to do too.’
‘Easier said than done, eh?’
‘In this village, it is. Sometimes I wonder where I’m going to be in five years’ time. If I’ll still be preparing bouquets for other people’s wives and girlfriends, without ever finding someone special of my own.’ She flapped her hand against her chest. ‘It’s that feeling of being left behind. As if life is something that’s happening to everyone else, while I’m still waiting to even get on the bus.’
‘Oh, Polly, it will happen to you too.’
She gave a shrug. ‘Funny thing is, I didn’t realise I was even looking for it until Johnny, and now I know how lovely it is to have someone to share those simple things in life with, I know I want it again.’
‘Yep,’ I nodded, mulling over the truth of Polly’s words. ‘I suppose deep down it’s what everyone hopes for, to find that special person to spend the rest of their lives with.’
‘Well you’re all right,’ said Polly, rallying. ‘You’ve got Max.’
‘Yes, but it’s still early days for us. Who knows what might happen?’
‘Nah, you two are solid. He adores you. You only need to see the way he looks at you to know that.’
A warm feeling flooded my stomach. Deep down I knew Max was my ‘one’. I could only hope he felt the same way too. If Polly had noticed, then maybe I ought to start believing it was true.
‘Well, look. Maybe it’s time for you to start dating again. To test the water,’ I said. ‘Nothing too serious. Just to get out there and start having fun again.’
Polly gave me a doubtful look. ‘The last time I went on a date was before Johnny and that was with the carpet man. Remember him? And how fantastically that went?’
We both sniggered at the memory. It had been a double date, of sorts. Johnny and I had gone along for moral support, which was just as well really because it turned out that the carpet man could bore for England. We’d made our excuses as quickly as we politely could and after dispatching the carpet man the three of us ended up in the Dog and Duck laughing about Polly’s lucky escape. It wasn’t long after that Polly and Johnny got together…
‘By the way, did you find out what Sasha was doing back in the village?’
‘No, I didn’t like to ask, Max was a bit preoccupied with all this business about Katy. I expect it was something to do with work, Sasha’s an interior designer and I know she’s worked on a couple of projects with him before. Max would have said if it was anything else.’
‘Ah right,’ said Polly, nodding.
I mean, it had to be work, right? What else could she possibly want with Max?
*
Walking into the pub on a Friday night was a life-affirming experience. As soon as we pushed our way through the heavy front door, we were greeted by a warm buzz of conviviality. Lively conversation, laughter and the sound of people enjoying themselves wrapped around us in a welcoming hug.
Usually, I’d be behind the bar, in the thick of all the action, serving pints, clearing glasses, exchanging banter with the customers, not stopping for a moment to draw breath, but to be able to take a moment in the hubbub of all this activity to see the place through a customer’s eyes was lovely. I thought of Eric, off now on his travels, and how delighted he would be to see the pub he’d given so many years of his working life to, still thriving and serving the community of Little Leyton as it had always done.
‘Go and find a seat and I’ll grab us some drinks.’
Polly headed off into the bustle and I turned towards the bar, spotting my best friend, Josie, pulling pints. I made a beeline for her. Josie was Eric’s daughter and had grown up in this pub. She probably knew more about running the place than I did, and I was so happy when she’d decided to come back to work after having her baby. If I had any problems I could always ask Josie what she thought and invariably her advice was spot on.
’How’s it been tonight?’ I asked her now.
‘Busy,’ she said, smiling. ‘Just as we like it, but nothing we couldn’t handle. It’s just beginning to thin out now. Actually, I’m glad you’re here because I need to have a word with you sometime when you have a moment?’
‘Sure. Polly and I are going to share a bottle of Prosecco. Why don’t you come and join us before you leave? That’s unless you have to get back and rescue Ethan?’
‘Not likely,’ said Josie laughing. ‘He needs to do his turn occasionally.’ Ethan was Josie's husband and covered babysitting duties for little Stella on the evenings when Josie worked at the pub. ‘I’ll be over in a bit.’
With the bottle of Prosecco and a couple of glasses in hand, I weaved my way through the crowds – no easy feat when I was stopped by every other person wanting a chat, such was the life of a landlady – before finding Polly sitting at a table in the back bar. She’d been joined by Victoria Evans, the young woman who worked on the local newspaper.
‘Hi Victoria, how’s things?’
‘Good. I wanted to catch you actually, I’ve got some good news for you.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. We’ve had the list of shortlisted pubs in the county come through for the Potters Pub Guide and The Dog and Duck is on the list!’
‘Of course it is!’ said Polly, pouring the wine into the glasses and raising hers in the air. ‘There’d have been a national outcry if it wasn’t.’
‘Oh gosh, that’s brilliant,’ I said. ‘And such a relief too. Can you imagine not making the shortlist this year, now I’m in charge. That would have been terrible.’
‘We’re going to publish the list in this week’s edition of the paper and then we’ll do a feature on each of the pubs in the following weeks in the run-up to the announcement of the overall winner.’ Victoria leaned into my side and whispered in my ear, ‘You would be our winner, obviously, but for the sake of fairness we thought we had to feature the other pubs too.’
‘So how’s the winner actually selected then?’ Polly asked Victoria.
‘Well the shortlist is drawn up from customer nominations and then the overall winner is selected by representatives from the pub guide. They make unannounced visit to the pubs and rate them against a checklist of standards to come up with the best pub in the county. So you’ll need to be on high alert for any mystery visitors.’
‘Oh shit!’
‘What?’ Both Polly and Victoria turned to look at me. ‘I think it might be a bit late for that. I had a guy in the other day. I didn’t think much of it at the time but I didn’t make the best impression.’ I shook my head, remembering the disastrous visit. ‘He came in early for a pint, but none of the draught beers were on, and then he asked for some pork scratchings. I didn’t have any. Then to make matters worse, I tripped over a bucket of water I’d left in the middle of the floor and spilt it all over the man’s shoes.’ I let out a big sigh, before taking a restorative glug of Prosecco. ‘I’m not sure I would have ticked any of the boxes on his wretched checklist.’
‘Oh… well maybe it didn’t go as badly as you thought,’ said Victoria, trying to make me feel better, I knew.
‘Yeah, or it might not even have been him. Perhaps it was just a random punter. That’s the thing about a mystery visitor, they’re mysterious!’
I gave Polly a doubtful look.
‘Why all the glum faces?’ Just then Josie came over and joined us at the table, picking up the bottle and filling her glass, after topping up mine and Polly’s.
‘Oh we were just discussing the Potters Pub Guide awards. I think I may have blown our chances this year. Your dad always did well in the awards, didn’t he?’
‘Yeah, I think he picked up a few medals over the years. I know he was always dead chuffed when he received the news.’ Josie must have noticed my stricken expression because she quickly added, ‘But honestly I wouldn’t spend any time worrying about it. The pub is doing just as well as it’s ever done and that’s all that matters. You don’t need a silly gong to prove anything.’
Maybe not, but I did feel a sense of responsibility to uphold the good reputation of the pub. To think that people might be saying it had gone downhill since I’d taken over filled me with dread.
Still, if tonight was anything to go by, then I had to be doing something right. The place was full to the gills with happy punters.
‘Anyway, no more moping,’ said Josie, banging her hands on the table, ‘because I’ve got some news. We’ve finally got round to arranging little Stella’s christening. It’s going to be on the 14th of June at St Cuthbert’s and you’re all invited.’
‘Isn’t that the weekend of the summer fair?’ Polly asked me.
‘No, we’ve pencilled in the following week, the 21st, but nothing’s confirmed yet. We’re having a meeting here soon to finalise the details.’
‘Oh, perfect then,’ said Polly.
‘I can’t wait,’ I added. We all doted on Stella and couldn't get enough of her squidgy cuddles.
‘Well, I’ve chosen that weekend because Dad will be over. It’s a shame your mum and dad won’t be here, Ellie, but one of Ethan’s friends has offered to film the service for us so I can send it to your mum so that she won’t feel she’s missing out completely.’
Our families had always been close, and that bond had only grown stronger when Miriam, Josie’s mum, died when Josie was still a teenager. Eric had done his best, but struggling with his own grief, had floundered at times. Mum had stepped in to provide support and a listening ear to Josie for those times when she really needed a mother figure to confide in. When Josie became pregnant, Mum was delighted; I swear she couldn’t have been happier if it had been me who had been expecting. And the way I looked at it, it got me off the baby-making hook for a few more years at least.
‘What a lovely day it will be,’ said Victoria.
‘Yes, I can’t wait and what I wanted to ask you, Ellie,’ said Josie, grabbing hold of my hand from across the table, ‘is if you’d be Stella’s godmother?’
‘What!?’ I had to double-check her expression to make sure I’d heard her correctly. ‘Me? Really? Do you mean it?’
Josie’s face lit up in a smile, before she broke into laughter. ‘Of course, I mean it! Who else was I going to ask? You’ve been my best friend since forever and I can’t think of anyone who would make a better godmother to my daughter.’
A tight ball of emotion rose in my throat. ‘Oh my gosh! I wasn’t expecting that.’ I swallowed hard, feeling deeply touched that Josie had asked me. ‘Honestly, I’d be thrilled to be godmother to your gorgeous daughter.’
Josie stood up and leaned over to give me a tight hug.
I allowed the smile that had been hovering on my lips to spread across my face. It only confirmed to me that coming back to Little Leyton had been the best decision I’d ever made and it certainly put into perspective any silly niggles about pub awards.
‘Well I think this calls for another bottle of fizz to celebrate,’ said Polly, never one to miss an opportunity.
Another bottle of Prosecco was ordered and the four of us, me, Polly, Josie and Victoria, sat around the table catching up on the gossip. Josie was in the middle of telling us about Stella’s crawling antics when Polly seemed to develop a sudden and urgent body twitch.
‘Psst Ellie, over there.’ She was flailing her head in the direction of the bay window, clearly agitated.
We all turned round, looking over our shoulders to see.
‘Stop it!’ she hissed. ‘Don’t make it so obvious.’
‘What are we actually looking at?’ asked Victoria, perplexed as the rest of us.
‘That man over there, sitting on his own, with his laptop. Look at him. I reckon he could be your mystery man from the pub guide.’
‘What on earth would make you think that?’ I asked, unable to see the man through the throng.
‘Watch him. He keeps looking at his beer and then jotting something down in his notepad.’
‘You never know, he might just have come out for a quiet pint,’ I said, shaking my head despairingly. ‘That is allowed here you know.’
‘Yeah, but I’ve never seen him in here before. Have you? And why would you bring a notepad?’
‘I’ve no idea. And to be honest, I can’t really see what he looks like. I reckon we should all stop staring. I’m trying to attract new customers, not put them off from coming.’
All this talk of mystery pub visitors was making me decidedly nervous. I would have to make sure I was on top form from now on, just in case Polly was right in her suspicions.
Victoria had dropped her head to one side, peering in the direction of the man, clearly giving the matter some serious consideration. ‘I don’t think he can be your pub guide man though,’ she said, ‘he’s far too good-looking.’
‘What’s that go to do with anything?’ said Josie, laughing.
‘Think about it, someone who goes round the county drinking all those different beers is going to be middle-aged, portly and beardy. Not young, cool and lethally sexy.’
‘Oh God, now you come to mention it, the man who was in the other morning fell into that category.’ Three eager faces turned to look at me. ‘The middle-aged and portly one,’ I added.
‘Mmm,’ said Polly with a sigh. ‘Whoever he is, he is very, very hot.’
Polly and Victoria were gawping as though they’d never seen a good-looking man before, although in fairness it probably was a rare event for the Dog and Duck.
‘Hey, look out,’ said Josie, ‘he’s coming this way.’
We all giggled and sat up straight in our chairs, like a bunch of silly schoolgirls caught out on some misdemeanour.
‘Oh gawd,’ I said, getting a proper look at the man for the first time, before dropping my gaze. ‘That’s no mystery man, that’s George Williamson.’
‘Who?’ The rest of the girls asked in unison.
‘Oh it doesn’t matter. Just stop staring or else he’ll notice.’
Only he didn’t. He just waltzed past us on his way to the loos without even so much as a glance in our direction. A few minutes later, on his way back again, I stepped into my role as landlady and called out his name, wanting to give him a proper warm welcome to the pub.
‘George?’
He stopped, turned, gave a megawatt smile to his newly formed adoring fan club, before his gaze alighted on mine. ‘Oh hi. It’s Ellie, isn’t it?’ Ten out of ten for remembering my name.
‘Yes, that’s right. Lovely to see you in here. Are you settling well into the cottage?’ ‘Yes, it’s absolutely fine. Everything I wanted. So peaceful and quiet.’ I smiled, noticing that George seemed so much more affable this evening. I'd obviously caught him at a bad time the other day. ‘Oh, and thanks for the cake by the way, it was delicious. You’re a great baker.’
I swelled with pride, until remembering that I hadn’t actually made the cake, which was only brought home to me by the surprised expressions on my friend’s faces.
‘Well actually it’s…’ Heck, what did it matter. ‘…One of my favourite recipes,’ I quickly added, which wasn’t strictly a lie. ‘I’m so glad you liked it. Let me introduce you to a few of the locals. This is Polly, who owns and works at Polly’s Flowers next door. This is Josie who works here. She grew up in this pub, she’s the daughter of the previous landlord, and this is Victoria who works on the local newspaper.’ I turned to my friends who were hanging on my every word, well that's what I told myself, at least. ‘This is George Williamson who’s just moved into No. 2 Ivy Lane Cottages. You’ll find us a very friendly bunch. There’s a poster over on the beam next to the bar which shows all the events running here. There’s usually something going on most nights.’
‘Hello,’ he lifted his hand in acknowledgments to my friends. ‘And thank you. I’ll take a look, although really I’m here to work so I won’t have a lot of time to get involved.’
‘Of course,’ I said, wondering again just what it was he did for a living. ‘No pressure, but you’ll be most welcome when you do have a spare moment.’
‘What do you think of the pub then?’ Polly piped up.
‘Yep,’ said George, nodding his head as he looked around him. ‘It’s great. Just how you’d want a village pub to be.’
‘Oh good, and the beer is just as you’d like it too?’ she probed.
A mild hint of panic darted across George’s eyes, but he did a good job of retaining his good-natured composure, addressing Polly with a smile. ‘The beer was very good, yes.’
‘Did you try the pork scratchings?’
I shoved my foot into Polly’s leg beneath the table, but she was totally oblivious and steamed ahead regardless, with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.
‘The pork scratchings,’ she insisted. ‘I can recommend them. Or there’re crisps and nuts, if you prefer. There’s always plenty of choice here.’
‘That’s good to know, but I just came for the beer… which was great. Anyway,’ he said, looking desperate now to escape as he took an exaggerated glance at his watch, ‘I ought to be making a move. It’s been great meeting you all.’
Poor man, probably thought we were all completely loopy.
‘Well there you go,’ said Polly, once he’d gone. She banged her hands down on the table, looking as though she’d uncovered the missing piece in a murder investigation. ‘He’s clearly not the pub guide man, but whoever he is, he’s very, very lovely.’