Last Orders at the Star and Sixpence Page 29

  ‘I haven’t finished,’ Nessie replied, sighing wearily. ‘I gave Gabe the wrong breakfast orders for the B and B guests this morning, and then somehow managed to lose my car keys for almost an hour when it was time to go to the wholesalers. Honestly, I think I might be losing the plot.’

  ‘You’re not losing anything,’ Owen observed thoughtfully, once Nessie had petered out into red-faced silence. ‘You’ve just got too much going on. It’s partly my fault – you’re so good with Luke that I’ve let some of my responsibilities become yours.’

  A wave of discomfort washed over her. ‘No, that isn’t what I mean at all – I love looking after Luke.’

  He smiled. ‘I know you do. But there’s no denying you do a lot to keep our lives running smoothly. It used to drive Kathryn crazy when she lived with us – all the things she did that I didn’t even notice. The mental load, she called it.’

  Kathryn was Owen’s irrepressibly blunt younger sister and Nessie could practically hear her explaining the phrase at length.

  ‘What I’m saying is that I don’t want you to feel you have to carry that load,’ Owen went on, his dark eyes warm. ‘Let’s share it.’

  The trouble was that it wasn’t her home life that she needed help with, Nessie thought. But the stresses and strains of running the Star and Sixpence definitely weren’t Owen’s problem and he was offering what he could to help.

  ‘You’re a good man, Owen Rhys,’ she said, smiling.

  ‘Not as good as I should be,’ he replied with a shrug. ‘But I’m always happy to raise my game. For you.’

  There was something about the way he looked at her then that sent a tiny shiver of anticipation down Nessie’s spine. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to get back to Snowdrop Cottage.

  ‘Your game is already strong,’ she told him, placing her knife and fork together on her plate. ‘Shall we skip dessert?’

  *

  It was still dark when Sam woke up. At first, she wasn’t sure what had disturbed her; the inky blackness was so complete that she knew dawn was still a few hours away. She lay for a few seconds, feeling the baby kick as she waited for her quickened heartbeat to slow down, and the sound of a muffled bark solved the mystery. Bucky had settled in perfectly in the week since Sam and Gabe had collected him and seemed more than happy with his bed in the living room. In fact, Sam thought as another woof broke the silence, this was the first time she’d heard him bark. She frowned; it didn’t sound as though he was in the living room, though. It sounded as though he was—

  ‘Sam?’ Gabe’s voice was low outside her bedroom door. ‘Are you awake?’

  Pushing back the covers, Sam padded across the room. ‘I am now,’ she said, opening the door.

  He stood in a T-shirt and boxer shorts, his cheek still creased from sleep, and Sam felt the usual sharp burst of heat radiate from deep inside her. She’d slept mere centimetres away from that face once, listening to his steady breath punctuate the night and wishing she could put her arms around him. It seemed like a half-remembered dream now, although she often thought of it.

  ‘Bucky is downstairs,’ Gabe said, his expression wary and tense. ‘I think there’s someone in the kitchen.’

  A spike of adrenaline caused Sam’s heart to thud again. ‘Are you sure?’

  Gabe nodded. ‘I can hear them moving around. And Bucky has been barking like crazy for around ten minutes.’

  Sam considered their options. Gabe was tall and strong, but if someone had broken in, she wouldn’t be much help. ‘We should call the police.’

  ‘They won’t get here in time,’ Gabe replied grimly. ‘You wait here – I’ll take Bucky and see if we can scare them off.’

  ‘Not a chance,’ Sam said, with a firm shake of her head. ‘At the very least, let me call Owen. He’s only got to cross the yard to be here.’

  ‘No time,’ Gabe whispered, heading for the stairs that led to the bar. ‘Stay here.’

  Before she could stop him, he was gone, leaving Sam shivering with anxiety. She strained her ears, catching a creak as Gabe reached the bottom of the staircase and a faint whimper from Bucky, then there was silence. A few more seconds ticked by, during which she imagined Gabe grappling with the intruder. Bucky let out a volley of excited barks and suddenly Sam couldn’t stand it any longer. Pausing only to grab her phone from the bedside table, she hurried downstairs as fast as she could.

  The kitchen was fully lit. Gabe stood at the furthest end, gazing into the storeroom, and Bucky was still barking and growling furiously, although all Sam could see of him was his bristling tail. Had the burglar hidden in the cupboard, she wondered as she ventured forward. ‘Gabe? What’s going on?’

  He turned around and she saw his expression was set. ‘We’ve got a big problem,’ he said. ‘Our intruder is a rat.’

  Sam’s mouth fell open in dismay. ‘A rat? But how – when?’

  ‘I’ve got no idea,’ Gabe said. ‘It scurried across the floor when Bucky and I came in here.’

  ‘We’ve never had rats before.’ Sam shook her head. ‘Not even a hint of them.’

  ‘Me either,’ he said. ‘You know I run a clean kitchen – all the food is put away at the end of the night and this store cupboard is usually locked. But tonight, the door was open – I can only assume that’s what attracted our visitor.’

  ‘What are we going to do?’ Sam asked, her gaze shifting to Bucky. ‘Can we catch it?’

  ‘We are not going to do anything,’ he said, in a tone that suggested no argument. ‘Rats carry diseases, Sam. You are going to wait in the bar while I decide how to trap it until we can get expert advice.’

  An involuntary shiver ran down Sam’s spine. She wasn’t scared of rats, but she had to admit the thought of them scurrying around made her stomach churn. ‘What if there’s more than one?’

  Gabe shook his head. ‘I haven’t seen any evidence of that, but I suppose we’ll have to cross that bridge when we get to it. Right now, Bucky and I need to deal with this one.’

  She hesitated for a moment; technically, she was Gabe’s boss – shouldn’t she stay near at hand to offer moral support? But then there was a flurry of frenzied scrabbling inside the cupboard and Bucky’s growls grew fiercer and Sam decided that Gabe was more than capable of managing the problem. She fled to the bar.

  A few minutes passed before Gabe joined her, a still-wary Bucky at his heels. ‘The cupboard is locked and I’ve plugged up any gaps with some hessian sacks. I can’t really do more than that until the morning.’

  Sam eyed the solid kitchen door with some trepidation. ‘Do you think it might come in here?’

  Gabe frowned as he considered the question. ‘I think it’s unlikely. But we don’t actually know how it got into the building in the first place. Perhaps there’s a nest somewhere we don’t know about—’ He saw her expression. ‘Or maybe he’s working alone and just found a way into the kitchen tonight. We’ll have to call in a pest specialist to know for sure.’

  The implications were not lost on Sam. She swallowed a groan. ‘Are we going to have to close down until that happens?’

  ‘The kitchens, yes,’ Gabe replied without hesitation. ‘Everything will need to be cleaned, preventative measures have to be taken and any entry points must be closed so that this doesn’t happen again.’

  She glanced around the now brightly lit bar, her worst fears confirmed. ‘And the pub itself?’

  ‘It depends what the experts say,’ Gabe answered, and stifled a yawn. ‘We should be able to get an emergency visit in the morning.’

  His yawn was catching; Sam covered her mouth in embarrassment as she gave in to the sudden wave of tiredness. ‘We should go to bed.’

  He gave her a knowing look. ‘Will you be able to sleep?’

  ‘Of course,’ she replied indignantly. ‘I’m not scared. Besides, I’ll have Bucky to defend me.’

  Gabe studied her for a moment, and for a few wild seconds she wondered whether he was going to offer to share a bed again. But th
en he nodded. ‘He’ll probably sleep better in your room. We’ll close the door at the foot of the stairs too, in case he decides to go on rat patrol again.’

  Sam dropped a hand to stroke the dog’s silky ears and he wagged his tail in response. ‘Come on, then,’ she told him. ‘Let’s try and get some rest, shall we?’

  Back on the landing, Gabe stopped outside her bedroom door. ‘There’s really nothing to worry about.’

  ‘I know,’ Sam said. She pulled a wry face. ‘See you in a few hours.’

  He smiled. ‘Yes. Sleep well.’

  It was quite ridiculous, but Sam had to admit she felt happier knowing Bucky was lying on the floor beside her bed. Not as happy as she would have been with Gabe next to her, but at least this way was less complicated. And given the tumult of feelings that coursed through her whenever she spent time with Gabe these days, complication was probably something she needed to work harder to avoid.

  *

  Keith from Simply the Pest puffed out a long breath and scratched his head in obvious bewilderment. ‘What you’ve got here,’ he said, flicking on a torch to peer underneath the stainless-steel units that lined the kitchen walls, ‘is a genuine locked-room mystery.’

  Sam and Nessie exchanged uncertain looks, while Gabe looked equally puzzled. ‘In what way?’ Sam asked, politely hiding her scepticism.

  Keith got to his feet and tracked back to the storage cupboard, now conspicuously empty of its nocturnal visitor. ‘I’ve been doing this job for twenty years, so I know what I’m talking about,’ he said. ‘And I can’t for the life of me work out how it got in. There’re no gnawed floorboards. No damage to any of the walls that I can see. It’s a mystery, right enough.’

  ‘Could . . . could it have used the back door?’ Sam asked, hoping she didn’t sound as stupid as she felt. ‘If it was left open, I mean?’

  ‘Unlikely,’ Keith said. ‘With all due respect, this isn’t Disney. Rats don’t generally saunter in like they own the place. And there’s no droppings, or urine, other than in the cupboard where your intruder spent the night. No sign of an infestation at all.’

  Nessie cleared her throat. ‘That’s good news, at least. So what happens now?’

  Keith shrugged. ‘I’ll check the rest of the premises. Then we can talk about preventative measures and you can make a start on disinfecting the place.’

  Sam’s nose wrinkled; she didn’t want to think about what preventative measures meant. ‘Can you recommend a good industrial cleaning company?’

  ‘I can,’ Keith said. ‘Don’t you worry – we’ll have this sorted and get you open again within twenty-four hours. Now, who’s going to give me the tour?’

  ‘Follow me,’ Gabe said, before either Sam or Nessie could reply, and he led the man out of the kitchen.

  ‘What a nightmare,’ Nessie said, glancing into the cupboard with a shudder. ‘I’m sorry you had to deal with it on your own.’

  ‘I wasn’t on my own,’ Sam pointed out. ‘Gabe pretty much took care of everything. The worst part was imagining it creeping up the stairs, but I was far too tired to worry about that for more than ten seconds.’

  Nessie managed a weak smile. ‘I suppose we should be glad it wasn’t on Friday – we’d have lost all the weekend trade.’

  ‘Or nearer to the weekend coming,’ Sam replied. ‘We’d have had to cancel the cider festival.’

  ‘It doesn’t bear thinking about,’ Nessie said grimly. ‘I think we got lucky.’

  Sam thought back to the sound of tiny claws scuttling across the tiled floor and shuddered. ‘I’ll tell you what was lucky – having Bucky here. I think he’s more than earned his place on the team – even Laurie can’t argue.’

  Nessie let out a heartfelt sigh. ‘If only that was true. I’m starting to think he’d argue the sky was green if he thought there was something in it for him.’

  Sam eyed her sister in surprise; Nessie had always been the one who’d suggested they cut Laurie some slack and give him a chance. Could her patience finally be running out?

  ‘Not this time,’ Sam said firmly. ‘Bucky stays, just in case our visitor has some friends after all.’

  ‘Of course he’s staying,’ Nessie responded with a smile. ‘I just hope he doesn’t demand a pay rise!’

  Chapter Thirty-three

  The closure of the pub while they dealt with the rat issue caused no end of speculation among the villagers. In the past, Nessie would simply have confided the truth to Franny and relied on her to spread the news in a way that would limit any damage to their reputation, but that was sadly no longer an option; the new postmistress was pleasant and well-organised, but she wasn’t Chairwoman of the Little Monkham Preservation Society, and her sphere of influence didn’t extend much past how much a first-class parcel to London might cost. All of which meant Nessie had to field curious questions from every villager she encountered on Monday afternoon and Tuesday morning.

  ‘Just some emergency maintenance,’ she said, ensuring her crossed fingers were hidden from sight. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll be up and running in good time for the cider festival!’

  Joss was due to arrive on Wednesday to take over Connor’s duties. Nessie and Sam had already agreed that they wouldn’t hide the rat encounter from him; apart from anything else, he needed to know that there were now humane traps down in the cellar, along with less-humane poison, safely tucked out of harm’s way in the kitchen. Both sisters had argued hard with Gabe about the need for such cruel methods, but he had been insistent that the health of his customers must come first. And when he’d put it like that, Nessie had found it almost impossible to stand her ground.

  *

  ‘Rats?’ Joss said when Nessie called him into the office to explain the situation. His fair eyebrows beetled in astonishment. ‘I’ve never known this place to have trouble with any kind of rodent before. Has your fancy new chef been leaving food out?’

  His tone was level, but Nessie thought she detected the faintest hint of something altogether less professional underneath. She shouldn’t be surprised; Joss had always been unnecessarily jealous where Sam was concerned and he’d clearly worked out that a good-looking chef living on the premises might catch her eye. Nessie paused, wondering whether it was something she needed to address right away, and then decided it could wait. It wasn’t as though Sam and Joss were in any danger of rekindling their relationship, after all. She was having his baby, nothing more.

  ‘Rat singular,’ Nessie corrected Joss in a low voice. ‘And no sign of any more, thankfully.’

  Joss frowned. ‘Just one? That’s weird.’

  ‘That’s what the pest control man said,’ Nessie said. ‘But maybe we just caught things early. Anyway, we’re all clear for now – I just thought you should be aware.’

  ‘Noted,’ Joss said, nodding. ‘Anything else I need to know?’

  Nessie hesitated again, then sighed. ‘I should probably tell you that Laurie isn’t exactly over the moon that you’re here. Just in case you pick up any . . . hostility.’

  Joss grinned. ‘Let me guess – he thinks he can run the cellar while Connor is away.’

  ‘Got it in one,’ Nessie confirmed. ‘And I think it’s something he could definitely do, in the future. But not right now. And not when we’ve got ten independent cider makers arriving on Friday, plus a gaggle of apple aficionados, and who knows what else?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Joss said, ‘I’ll go easy on Laurie.’

  ‘Great,’ Nessie said, observing once again that he hadn’t extended a similar professional courtesy to Gabe. ‘Let me show you to the living room – a brand new sofa bed awaits!’

  If Sam had noticed the tension in Joss’s body language where Gabe was concerned, she didn’t say anything to Nessie. In fact, she was being resolutely positive about his presence, even though Nessie knew it must be weird to be living right next door to him again. Gabe, on the other hand, had definitely noticed something was off with Joss – he’d mentioned it to Nessie once, after
Franny’s funeral, and had never asked about the former cellarman again, although he was as professional and polite as always. It was something else that kept Nessie awake at night but providing Joss could keep his jealousy under control for as long as it took to get the job done, maybe disaster could be avoided. She hoped, anyway.

  *

  Friday was the summer solstice – a day Nessie wasn’t sure she’d ever really paid much attention to before she’d fallen for a blacksmith. Both the solstices were important to Owen; he made sure she had a yule log to mark the winter festival and he’d marked the summer one on the family calendar in red. So Nessie wasn’t surprised when he leaned over to her side of the bed on Friday morning to kiss her and declare, ‘Happy Solstice.’

  ‘And to you,’ she replied, smiling. ‘May the sun shine all day.’

  His dark eyes crinkled with approval. ‘I certainly hope so. I’ve got something special lined up for us.’

  Nessie’s pleasure was replaced by an instant buzz of anxiety. ‘I can’t do anything today, Owen. The cider festival starts this afternoon – there are a million and one jobs to be done.’

  ‘Nothing that can’t wait,’ he said, his voice even but firm. ‘I’ve spoken to Sam and she says she can spare you for a few hours at lunchtime. No arguments – meet me by the back door at midday.’

  Nessie swallowed the protests that were jostling on her tongue; what on earth was Sam playing at when they were so busy? But it wasn’t the first time her sister had conspired to get her together with Owen and Nessie knew when she’d been outmanoeuvred. ‘Okay. Two hours and no more.’

  The morning whirled by in a flurry of last-minute panic and worries as the cider festival started to take shape. The village green was taken over by a large marquee that would house the cider makers and form the hub of the festival. In the evenings, the space in the centre of the huge white tent would become a dance floor, playing host to a number of local bands, plus Owen’s sister’s band, Sonic Folk, as the headline act on Saturday night. Micky Holiday had even promised to perform with Kathryn and Nessie knew she was beyond excited at the prospect.