Last Orders at the Star and Sixpence Read online

‘But you want to,’ she said quietly. ‘You want to take the job, right?’

  To her left, Franny let out another wheezing huff.

  Henry turned to her in concern. ‘Are you all right, my love? You look a little peaky.’

  There was a thick sheen of sweat on her face and she was paler than Sam had ever seen her. ‘I feel . . . a little strange,’ she said, gasping slightly in between the words. ‘Lightheaded . . . can’t breathe . . .’

  Gabe jumped to his feet. ‘Get her some water,’ he barked at Laurie. ‘Loosen her clothing.’

  Franny clutched at the buttons of her blouse. ‘You’ll do . . . no such thing . . .’

  ‘Just until you feel better,’ Sam soothed, trying to ignore her alarm at the clammy whiteness of the other woman’s skin. ‘Henry, why don’t you do it?’

  But as he reached for the buttons, Franny let out a stifled moan. Her hand convulsed on her chest, turning into a claw that tore at the material of her blouse. Her eyes flew wide as the moan became a guttural croak that died in her throat.

  ‘Franny!’ Henry shouted, his voice rough with sudden panic. ‘Dear god, what’s happening?’

  Nessie reached for her phone. ‘It’s a heart attack,’ she said, stabbing at the keypad. ‘Check her pulse someone.’

  Sam saw Gabe take Franny’s rigid wrist and feel for the pulse. But at that moment, her eyes fluttered shut and she slumped back against the sofa.

  ‘Get her onto the ground, start CPR,’ Nessie shouted, then spoke urgently into her phone. ‘Ambulance, please.’

  Sam watched with a sense of horrified unreality as Gabe and Micky laid Franny out and began chest compressions. Beside them, Henry’s hands fluttered helplessly and his face was wet with tears.

  ‘She’s so still. Is she – is she going to be all right?’

  Her own heart pounding, Sam stood up and guided him into her seat. ‘I’m sure she’s going to be fine,’ she said, doing her best to sound reassuring. ‘The ambulance will be here soon.’

  Her eyes met Ruby’s, wide with shock and grief and a terrible finality, and she knew without a single glance at the postmistress that the words she’d said to Henry were a lie. Franny was not going to be fine. Franny was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  ‘I can’t believe she’s dead.’

  Nessie stared into the glowing embers of the wood burner in the living room of Snowdrop Cottage and shook her head for what felt like the hundredth time. It didn’t seem real, but, at the same time, she saw Franny’s waxen, lifeless face every time she closed her eyes and knew that it was.

  On the sofa beside her, Owen sighed and took her hand. ‘I know. It’s such a shock. Poor Henry.’

  Across the room, Sam shifted on the armchair. ‘Poor Henry,’ she echoed. ‘Did you see him stagger when the paramedics said there was nothing they could do? He looked like he was going to keel over too.’

  Gabe tipped his head. ‘Is it any wonder? He’d just watched his wife pass away without being able to do a thing to stop it.’

  The thought made Nessie want to cry again and she’d done too much of that already. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to imagine the pain Henry must be feeling. ‘I’m glad he’s not on his own tonight,’ she said, remembering how Micky had insisted he spend the night at his cottage next door to Ruby’s. ‘I can’t think of anything worse than having to go home and be surrounded by all Franny’s things, knowing she wasn’t ever going to use them again.’

  Owen squeezed her hand and she reached up to plant a small kiss on his cheek, because he knew better than anyone how it felt to return home after the loss of a spouse.

  ‘Micky and Ruby will look after him,’ Sam said. ‘And tomorrow, someone can go and get whatever he needs from home, if he doesn’t feel strong enough to go himself. The village will rally round.’

  ‘It always does,’ Owen said simply. ‘We do what we can.’

  There was no possibility that word hadn’t spread; ambulances and police cars were such rare sights in the village that the appearance of both on the doorstep of the Star and Sixpence had attracted a cluster of worried onlookers, despite the late hour. By the time the paramedics had made their way back to the ambulance, with no patient on a stretcher to give hope that everything might still be okay, there was a crowd outside the pub. Nessie hadn’t felt able to go out and give them the news, but she and Sam had distributed endless cups of tea. Eventually, once the local GP had been in to issue the medical certificate, one of the police officers had shared what had happened and the shock waves had been almost tangible as they’d rippled through Little Monkham. No one had been able to believe it; Franny had been an integral part of the village for so long that most people seemed to find it impossible to accept that she was gone.

  ‘And she had no history of heart disease?’ Gabe asked. ‘No warning signs that we all somehow missed?’

  ‘No, nothing,’ Nessie said. ‘The paramedics said it was a pulmonary embolism – she could have had it for weeks with hardly any symptoms. Until it reached her heart, of course.’

  Sam let out a sudden yawn. ‘Oh god, I’m sorry,’ she mumbled, covering her mouth in embarrassment. ‘It’s been a really long day.’

  ‘I know,’ Nessie said, and for the first time since January, she didn’t have to remind herself to be kind to her sister. ‘Why don’t you try to get some rest? You can stay here if you don’t want to sleep in the pub – Kathryn’s room is empty.’

  ‘You can have the sofa if you like, Gabe,’ Owen offered.

  Nessie watched conflicting emotions chase each other across Sam’s face. She turned to look at Gabe and something unspoken passed between them. ‘No, I’d like to sleep in my own bed. I’m going to have to go back at some point – might as well get it over with. And Gabe will be right next door if I need him.’

  There was something about the way she said it that made the memory of Laurie’s insinuation about the baby’s father resurface in Nessie’s mind. She pushed the idea away; Gabe had flatly denied that it was possible and it seemed as unbelievable now as it had then. But that didn’t mean Sam wasn’t harbouring feelings for Gabe; he was taking such good care of her that Nessie found it easy to imagine her sister translating that tenderness into something more. And that made the situation with Joss even more complicated; the time was coming when Sam might have to decide which man she wanted in her life the most.

  Nessie gave herself a brisk mental shake; it was none of her business who Sam had feelings for. And besides, her sister had rarely taken her advice in the past; she was hardly likely to start now.

  ‘Promise me you won’t try to clean up,’ Nessie said, thinking of the empty glasses that must still be littering the tables. ‘I’ll come over first thing to do anything that needs to be done.’

  Sam yawned again and got to her feet. ‘Not much chance of me cleaning up tonight – I’m not sure I could keep my eyes open long enough.’

  Nessie stood up too and smiled. ‘Then don’t.’ On impulse, she closed the distance between her and Sam and pulled her into the briefest of hugs. ‘Sleep as well as you can.’

  ‘You too,’ Sam said, her gaze searching as she stepped back. ‘See you in the morning.’

  Owen showed them out. When he returned, he didn’t say a word but wrapped his arms around Nessie and buried his face in her hair. Nessie closed her eyes, breathing in his familiar scent and felt some of the misery that weighed on her spirits lift.

  ‘Do you think you will sleep?’ Owen asked, after a few minutes had gone by.

  Nessie looked up at him. ‘I hope so. You?’

  He gazed down at her in concern. ‘I’m not the one who just witnessed a traumatic event. But I hate to think of you lying there awake while I snore. You can wake me up if you want to talk.’

  A wave of exhausted gratitude washed over Nessie. ‘Thanks. I might just take you up on that.’

  ‘Will Sam be okay?’ he whispered as they climbed the stairs and tiptoed past Luke’s room.

&nb
sp; Nessie pictured the look that had passed between her sister and Gabe, and nodded. ‘She’ll be all right tonight. But tomorrow is going to be another story altogether.’

  *

  Sam didn’t want to go into the bar; she forced herself to hurry past the fireplace and couldn’t bring herself to even look at the spot where Franny had lain. Instead, she snapped off the lights as soon as she and Gabe reached the stairs that led up to the first floor, reminding herself that things would be easier to deal with in the sunlight of the next day.

  At the top of the stairs, Gabe paused. ‘Is there anything you want?’

  Sam sighed. ‘Apart from a time machine so I can go back to this afternoon and make Franny go to hospital, you mean?’

  He managed a cheerless smile. ‘Yes. Apart from that.’

  ‘No,’ Sam said, with a dispirited shake of her head. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘I am sorry for your loss,’ Gabe said. ‘I didn’t know Franny as well as you did, but she seemed like a strong and principled woman who will be missed.’

  ‘That pretty much sums her up,’ Sam agreed, her voice catching. ‘I’m going to miss her a lot.’

  Gabe’s dark eyes were filled with compassion. ‘Goodnight, Sam,’ he said, moving along the landing towards his bedroom door. ‘You know where to find me if there’s anything you need.’

  She took a deep, calming breath and watched him go. Beneath her shock and sorrow, she was uncomfortably aware of the highly inappropriate stir his words had caused inside. The old Sam would definitely have read something flirtatious into the suggestion that she might need him; even yesterday’s Sam might have wondered a little. But today’s Sam knew Gabe was simply being kind in the wake of Franny’s death.

  Ten minutes later, she was lying in bed surrounded by darkness, listening to the creaks of the old building as it settled for the night. Minutes ticked by but sleep did not come. She shifted around and imagined Gabe on the other side of the bedroom wall; was he awake? Was he fidgeting and restless too, wondering the same thing about her? There was only one way to be certain, but she wasn’t ready for the complications that would almost certainly follow. And the last thing she needed right now was extra complications.

  In the end, her heart overrode her head. She stood on the landing for a moment, summoning up the courage to knock on his door. He must have heard the floorboards creak, because he came to the door before she could rap on the wood.

  ‘You cannot sleep?’ he asked when he saw her.

  ‘Not a wink,’ she admitted. ‘And I think it’s because . . . because I don’t want to be on my own. Do you think you can put up with me for a little while longer?’

  Gabe pulled back the door. ‘Of course. Shall I make you some hot milk?’

  ‘No, thank you.’ She felt her cheeks grow warm at the sight of his bare chest beneath his dressing gown. ‘And I thought maybe – if you don’t mind – maybe I could . . .’

  He waited, his eyes never leaving hers, his expression steady.

  Sam gave up trying to be coy. ‘Look, there’s no easy way to ask this, so I’m just going to come out with it – can I sleep in your room tonight? I want to know I’m not alone, to hear the sound of someone else breathing next to me.’ She paused and mentally replayed the sentence. ‘Oh god, that sounds creepy, doesn’t it?’

  Gabe shook his head. ‘No. It sounds like a perfectly normal reaction to a terrible event.’

  Sam found her gaze settling on the smooth brown skin of his chest again. She looked away, suddenly afraid he’d get the wrong idea. ‘I promise to stay on my side of the bed.’

  His mouth quirked, as though he was on the verge of laughter, and she supposed it was a ridiculous idea; she was five months pregnant, after all. ‘Thank goodness for that,’ Gabe said, managing to keep a straight face. ‘Of course you can sleep here. Come in.’

  There was no denying it felt odd to slip between the cool covers and lie beside him. Sam tucked the duvet underneath her chin and gazed silently at his profile. He had a strong nose, she decided, maybe even noble, if men even had noble noses any more. His chin was covered by the usual dark stubble, but she could see the tip of a faint scar poking out of the hair. She wanted to ask him how he’d got it, but the question seemed far too intimate, given that they were in bed together.

  ‘Comfortable?’ he asked, turning suddenly and catching her staring. ‘Shall I switch off the lamp?’

  Sam nodded, her stomach clenching with the embarrassment of being caught watching him. But her tension relaxed a little in the darkness and she lay still, listening to his steady breathing.

  ‘Say something to me in Spanish,’ she said, after a few more seconds of almost-silence had passed. ‘I don’t mind what you say – I just want to hear your voice.’

  He began to talk, his tone rising and falling with the unfamiliar sounds and words in a way that Sam found vastly soothing. After a few minutes, she felt her shoulders start to loosen as the toll of the day let go. Was it a story he was telling her, she wondered, or a recipe for paella; she couldn’t tell. But before long, her eyes drifted shut and the words seemed to be coming from further away. Soon she couldn’t hear him at all.

  *

  Sam awoke the following morning tangled in the sheets, with no sign of Gabe. The bedroom door was ajar, however, and she could smell bacon, which strongly suggested breakfast was on its way. Savouring the mouth-watering aroma, she padded to her own room and pulled on the dressing gown that barely fastened around her stomach; she really was going to have to buy some proper maternity clothes soon, she decided. Especially since Gabe showed no sign of relaxing his insistence that she eat everything he put before her.

  ‘Nessie’s downstairs already,’ he explained when Sam entered the kitchen. ‘I’ve invited her for breakfast – I hope that’s okay? It seemed rude not to.’

  Sam waited for the lurch of anxiety that usually occurred whenever she thought about seeing Nessie; it didn’t come. ‘It’s a nice idea,’ she told Gabe, surprised to discover she meant it. ‘I suppose she’s started cleaning up without me? Typical Ness.’

  Gabe smiled. ‘I am certain she has. Go and help her if you like – I’ll call you when your food is ready.’

  Predictably, the bar was almost spotless by the time Sam had pulled on some clothes and arrived downstairs. ‘Bloody hell, what time did you get here? Did you even go to sleep?’

  Nessie stopped wiping down the tables and shook her head. ‘I tried – not sure how successful I was. How about you? Did you get much rest?’

  ‘Went out like a light,’ Sam admitted, remembering the way Gabe had lulled her to sleep in Spanish. ‘Sorry.’

  Her sister laughed. ‘Don’t be. Owen slept well too.’

  Keen to do something to help, Sam moved behind the bar and started to unscrew the sparklers on the pumps.

  ‘Leave those for now,’ Nessie said with an unsettled frown. ‘Connor or Tilly can do them when they come in. I – I want to talk to you.’

  Dread steamrollered across Sam’s heart. Was Nessie about to confess that she’d taken the job with McBride Breweries? Or was there something even worse? ‘Okay, I guess,’ she said, fear needling her insides. ‘Go ahead.’

  Nessie took a deep breath. ‘I owe you an apology, Sam. I don’t think I’ve been very kind or supportive to you. At the very least, I’ve been a rubbish sister, but what’s worse than that is I haven’t been much of a friend, at a time when you really needed one. And I’m sorry I haven’t coped better with – with your pregnancy; I feel like I’ve let you down.’

  She looked so miserable that Sam felt her eyes start to well with tears. ‘You haven’t let me down. I promise.’

  ‘But I have,’ Nessie insisted, with a stubborn half-shake of her head. ‘I let my own sadness stop me from seeing how scared and alone you were. And I know you probably understand why I held back, but that doesn’t excuse how I behaved.’

  Sam could hardly believe what she was hearing – was Nessie really beating herself up for
her own grief? ‘You don’t need to be excused,’ she said. ‘God knows I put you in a horrible position – who wouldn’t have struggled with it?’

  Nessie sighed. ‘Let’s just agree it hasn’t been easy for either of us. But I did a lot of thinking in the night and one of the conclusions I reached is that life is too short to fall out over things we can’t change. You’re going to have a baby and – well – I couldn’t be happier for you.’

  ‘Oh, Ness,’ Sam said, blinking hard in a futile attempt to prevent the flood of tears that threatened to swamp her. ‘Do you really mean it?’

  Her sister offered a watery smile. ‘I really do. I can’t wait to be an auntie.’

  Sam sniffed hard and dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her dressing gown. ‘You’ve got no idea how much better that makes me feel. But please tell me you’re not taking that job – I know it’s horribly selfish, but I couldn’t bear for you to go.’ She hesitated, then rushed on, ‘I don’t think I can have this baby without you.’

  Nessie’s smile melted away. ‘I don’t know if I can promise that, Sam. The money is amazing – six figures – and it would be a fresh start, as well as a new challenge.’ She looked down at the floor. ‘But I’m not sure I’m ready for it.’

  And that was typical Nessie too, Sam thought, always doubting herself and her abilities. ‘Of course you are,’ she said, even though it hurt to say the words. ‘You’ll be brilliant. And ignore me – if it’s what you really want then you should go for it.’

  ‘That’s the thing,’ Nessie said, her tone despairing. ‘I don’t actually know what I want. What if I take the job and hate it?’

  ‘You don’t have to decide now,’ Sam pointed out. She took a breath and did her best to smile. ‘But whatever you choose to do, the Star and Sixpence will always be here for you. I’ll always be here for you.’

  Nessie wrapped her arms around Sam in a hug that gave her a sense of peace she hadn’t even realised she’d been missing. When Nessie stepped back, she laid one hand on Sam’s bump and gazed solemnly into her eyes. ‘And whatever happens, I’ll be here for you too. For both of you, if you need me.’