Last Orders at the Star and Sixpence Page 6

  ‘I didn’t think it was!’ Sam exclaimed, heat racing across her cheeks.

  ‘We can include Nessie if it will make you more comfortable,’ Gabe went on, flashing her a wide-eyed look.

  He was teasing her, Sam realised with a further rush of mortification. And then she felt a cold plunge of certainty; he knew exactly why she was acting the way she was. He knew.

  ‘Let’s just get going,’ she said, forcing herself to sound as though she had no idea what he was getting at. ‘You can’t make a mushroom omelette without any mushrooms.’

  ‘That is true,’ Gabe said solemnly. ‘But I’m sure we’d manage to cook something up between us.’

  Sam downed her coffee in one mouthful, wincing as the scalding liquid hit her throat. The kitchen felt small, too full of Gabe, and she was suddenly keen to get out to the space of the woods. ‘Let’s go. Before I get hangry.’

  ‘We wouldn’t want that,’ Gabe agreed, finishing his own drink. ‘Lead on, Sam.’

  Dew glistened on Sam’s sturdy walking boots as they cut across the village green. Gabe had looked surprised when he’d seen her feet, as though he didn’t believe she owned such practical footwear, and Sam didn’t feel the need to explain that she’d borrowed them from Nessie. Maybe the best way to handle Gabe Santiago was to convince herself that she didn’t care what he thought of her. If she could manage to do that, everything would get a lot easier.

  The air was earthy and moist as they crossed the bridge that spanned the river and entered Archer’s Wood. There was no early morning village buzz here; the only sound was the delicate chirping of the birds. The trees were well into their autumn glory; the leaves were a riot of amber, gold and russet and Sam found herself breathing deeply as she and Gabe passed beneath the patchy network of branches.

  ‘Do you walk here often?’ Gabe asked.

  ‘Not as often as I probably should,’ Sam said, taking another lungful of fresh air. ‘Nessie and Owen come here a lot, especially when they want Luke to run off some energy.’

  Gabe nodded. ‘I can imagine Little Monkham is a good place to raise children. I grew up in the Seville heat and would have loved to escape somewhere like this. It’s the opposite of home – almost like Narnia.’

  The reference made Sam smile; Narnia had been one of her and Nessie’s favourite escapes when they’d been younger, but she hadn’t thought of it for years. She could easily imagine how the cool, damp woods might have a magical feel to someone who’d grown up on the sun-scorched streets of southern Spain. ‘There’s no White Witch in these parts, although Franny sometimes acts like she rules us all.’

  He laughed. ‘I don’t know what you mean – she’s been lovely to me so far.’

  ‘That’s because you haven’t crossed her,’ Sam said darkly, but her shudder was half-hearted. Franny might have been her nemesis when she and Nessie had first arrived in the village, but she’d proved a kind and fiercely supportive friend many times since then. Although it had to be said that both sisters had taken great care to stay on the right side of the postmistress since those early days at the Star and Sixpence; neither of them wanted to risk her wrath again.

  ‘She reminds me of my grandmother,’ Gabe said. ‘She is always telling me how done she is with everyone’s shit.’

  Now it was Sam’s turn to laugh. ‘Your grandmother sounds like a character.’

  He tipped his head. ‘She is. Both she and my grandfather helped to raise me after my father left my mother. We’re still very close.’

  Sam was silent for a moment, processing the new information. ‘I didn’t know about your father. I’m sorry – that must have been hard.’

  Gabe sighed. ‘In some ways, yes. But he wasn’t an especially good man and so life was easier after he left. My mother began to smile again.’

  Sam’s eyes prickled with unexpected tears. ‘So did mine. Although my father wasn’t a bad man. He drank and that made everything more difficult.’

  ‘I understand,’ Gabe said, flashing her a sympathetic look. He paused, as though trying to find the right words. ‘Meeting Laurie will have opened some old wounds, I think.’

  His perceptiveness caught her off guard; she took a moment to reply, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other on the compacted muddy path. ‘It has. But nothing that won’t heal again.’

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘It’s healthy to revisit those feelings sometimes. Especially as time gives you a better perspective. The older I get, the more forgiving I become.’

  She looked up then and found his gaze resting thoughtfully on her. ‘You’re right, it is healthy. As long as you don’t get too tangled up in things you can’t change.’

  ‘True,’ he acknowledged. ‘I think that is a lesson Laurie has not yet learned.’

  Once again, Sam was surprised by Gabe’s insight. ‘I’m not sure I had at twenty-six.’

  Gabe shook his head. ‘Nor had I. But I was never as angry as Laurie seems to be. He tries to hide behind derision, but you can almost feel his rage.’

  She had to concede he was right; Laurie definitely had some unresolved anger towards the father he felt had abandoned him. ‘Being at the Star and Sixpence will help,’ she said slowly. ‘I know it’s only a building, but there’s such a soothing quality about it – almost as though it radiates contentment.’ She gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘You probably think I’m mad.’

  ‘Not at all,’ he said, shaking his head again. ‘My mother’s house in Spain is exactly the same – I find a curious sense of peace when I am there. Everything makes sense.’

  Sam smiled. ‘Then you know just what I mean. Maybe the Star and Sixpence will work her magic on Laurie too.’

  ‘Maybe,’ he said, matching her smile.

  A companionable silence grew, during which Sam turned the conversation over and over in her mind. No matter how much he infuriated her, she’d never disliked Gabe, although she mistrusted his charm and good looks. But now she’d caught a glimpse of who he was beneath that charm and discovered she approved of what she saw; he was smart and perceptive, and emotionally intelligent too. She’d had no idea he was observing Laurie’s arrival with such interest, either, or her and Nessie’s reaction to it. Why should he, when it was no concern of his? And yet his observations made sense. There was no doubt about it, she decided, giving him a curious sideways glance; Gabe Santiago ran deeper than she’d imagined. Her heart sank a little as she realised what that meant: inevitably, it only made him more attractive.

  ‘And there’s no one special back home?’ she blurted out, almost without meaning to. ‘A woman, I mean. In Spain.’

  His gaze was level as he glanced at her. ‘No. Nobody special anywhere.’

  ‘Oh,’ she croaked in reply. ‘I’m – uh – sorry to hear that.’

  Sam spent the next few minutes berating herself for being so crass. But Gabe seemed to sense her discomfort and started to talk about the river that flowed through the heart of Seville and the building he missed the most. By the time he stopped and gestured off the path to the base of a tall beech tree, Sam had almost forgotten her stupidity.

  ‘Look,’ he said, pointing to a cluster of creamy yellow buttons. ‘They look like chanterelle mushrooms to me. Shall we go and take a closer look?’

  ‘That is why we’re here,’ she said, managing a small smile. ‘You can’t make a mushroom omelette without mushrooms, remember?’

  ‘I remember,’ he said. ‘And I have a good feeling about these ones. I think they’re going to blow your mind.’

  Sam laughed. ‘I hope they’re not those kind of mushrooms. I’m not sure Little Monkham is ready for hallucinogens.’

  Gabe knelt beside the tree and peered at its base. ‘They’re not. But in the right hands, the taste of these will be almost as good.’

  He drew out a knife and began to slice the stems, gathering the mushrooms into brown paper bags. As Sam watched his careful, deft movements, she couldn’t help wondering what else those hands were good at. Maybe Ness
ie was right, she thought, watching his long fingers work, maybe it was time to find out what other talents Gabe had.

  *

  The sound of a key in the lock made Nessie, Owen and Luke all look up as they ate their evening meal.

  Owen frowned. ‘It can’t be . . .’

  Luke leapt up, his face aglow, and hurried to the hall. ‘It is! It’s Kathryn!’

  A moment later, Owen’s sister appeared in the doorway, with Luke’s arms locked around her waist and a huge smile on her face. ‘Surprise!’

  ‘Kathryn!’ Nessie exclaimed, her heart filled with astonished delight. ‘I know I’ve lost my diary but hopefully not my marbles – please tell me we weren’t expecting you.’

  ‘You weren’t,’ the dark-haired woman said, her Welsh lilt teasing. ‘That’s why I said surprise.’

  Owen got to his feet and wrapped her in a hug. ‘It’s good to see you. To what do we owe the pleasure?’

  ‘Our drummer has broken his arm. So we’re taking an enforced break from touring while he recovers.’

  Luke beamed. ‘Does that mean you’re home for good?’

  Kathryn ruffled his hair. ‘Not good, no. But for a month or so, at least.’ She paused and sent a swift look Nessie’s way. ‘If that’s okay, obviously.’

  ‘Of course it is,’ Nessie said, joining in the group hug. ‘I can’t think of anything I’d like more.’

  ‘Good,’ Kathryn replied. ‘Now, if you’d all like to let go, I’ll take my coat off.’

  Nessie insisted on finding something for Kathryn to eat, so she could join them at the dining table. It had been just less than ten months since Kathryn had left Little Monkham to tour with her band, Sonic Folk, and she had plenty to tell them about life on the road, although Nessie was sure some of her stories were being hastily edited for Luke’s benefit. It was good to have her back, she decided with a rush of warmth.

  ‘And how are things between you two lovebirds?’ Kathryn asked, once she’d run out of tour tales. ‘No need to ask if you’re enjoying sharing a nest – you’re both glowing with contentment.’

  Nessie glanced shyly at Owen, who smiled. ‘We’re very happy,’ he said. ‘Life couldn’t be better, in fact.’

  Kathryn widened her eyes. ‘Oh?’ she said innocently. ‘Not even with the pitter-patter of tiny feet?’

  Nessie drew in a sharp breath of embarrassment; having more children wasn’t a subject she and Owen had discussed. It wasn’t that either of them had avoided the topic, more that they were still getting used to living together. The thought of adding a baby seemed a step too far at the moment, but it was something Nessie hoped might happen in the future.

  ‘No chance of that,’ Owen said, with a rumble of amusement. ‘Between the forge and the pub, we’re far too busy for babies. Right, Nessie?’

  ‘Right,’ Nessie echoed, wondering why his pronouncement made her feel so flat inside.

  ‘Awww,’ Luke said, frowning. ‘I wouldn’t mind being a big brother.’

  Owen fired a sideways glance at Kathryn. ‘Believe me, Luke, it’s overrated. Stick with being an only child.’

  ‘You loved it when I arrived, Owen,’ Kathryn said, grinning unrepentantly. ‘Admit it.’

  He smiled with genuine affection. ‘I think I can honestly say it was the worst day of my life. You’ve been driving me nuts ever since.’

  The conversation descended into good-natured squabbling, with Luke chipping in with cheerful insults where he could. Nessie did her best to join in but eventually let her gaze drop to her empty plate. At least now she knew how Owen saw their future without having to ask – he didn’t want any more children. And that was fine, really it was; Luke was a wonderful stepson and she loved him more than she would have thought possible. But there had been a tiny part of Nessie that had assumed she and Owen might one day have a baby of their own together. And the knowledge that she’d so clearly been mistaken was going to take some getting used to.

  ‘Nessie?’ Kathryn’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘Everything okay?’

  She forced herself to smile. ‘Of course. Now, why don’t I fill you in on what’s been happening in Little Monkham? You won’t believe who Mr Bickerstaff eloped with . . .’

  *

  There was no doubt about it: Martha’s Beyoncé left a lot to be desired. Nessie glanced across at Laurie, who was watching the performance on the karaoke stage with an expression that was somewhere between horrified fascination and grudging admiration.

  ‘You get used to it after a while,’ Nessie murmured as she eased past him behind the bar.

  ‘Really?’ he whispered back sceptically.

  Nessie thought hard and sighed. ‘No. But you do learn to tune it out, which is a very useful skill on karaoke night.’

  Laurie grunted. ‘I can imagine.’ He glanced across at the whiteboard that held the list of upcoming performers. ‘I dread to think what the vicar is going to sing. “Amazing Grace” or some other banger, I suppose.’

  His withering tone caused Nessie to frown; she hoped none of their customers had heard it. But she could see where Laurie was coming from – Martha’s performance didn’t inspire confidence in the other Little Monkham residents’ vocal talents.

  She waited until she’d finished serving her customer before responding. ‘Father Goodluck does a nice “Sweet Caroline”, actually,’ she said, her own voice upbeat. ‘And Henry loves a bit of old-school Elvis, so I imagine he’ll be singing something along those lines. They both might surprise you.’

  Laurie looked unconvinced. ‘We’ll see.’

  But it was Kathryn up next and even Laurie couldn’t pull a face at her smoky rendition of ‘Son of a Preacher Man’. In fact, Nessie caught him watching her with undisguised admiration more than once. And he wasn’t the only man admiring Kathryn; Gabe looked impressed as he leaned against the bar. Nessie didn’t dare ask Sam whether she’d noticed; there’d been a definite thaw in her sister’s behaviour towards the chef, but Nessie didn’t know whether that was because she’d got over her crush or decided to go with it. Best not to stir the pot, Nessie decided, as Kathryn finished the song and enthusiastic applause rang out around the bar.

  George, the DJ, took the microphone and raised it to his mouth. ‘Now, I know how much you enjoy fresh meat – I mean, fresh talent – here at the Star and Sixpence, so I’m delighted to welcome a debut performer to the stage. Let’s hear it for Gabe Santiago, singing “Hero”.’

  A loud ‘ooooh’ of female appreciation swept across the bar. Nessie’s head whipped around to find Sam, who was staring open-mouthed at Gabe as he wove through the crowd to take his place.

  ‘He’s either incredibly brave or unbelievably stupid,’ Laurie said, shaking his head. ‘If he’s good, they’ll never let him out of here fully clothed. And if he’s bad . . .’

  Ruby smiled. ‘I have a feeling they’ll forgive him.’

  It became obvious the moment Gabe started to sing that no forgiveness would be needed. His voice was warmer than spiced honey, with the faintest raspy edge, but that wasn’t what sent shivers down Nessie’s spine; it was the fact that he was entirely ignoring the lyrics on the screen and singing the song in Spanish. And judging from the spellbound silence that had fallen over the audience, others felt exactly the same way.

  More than once, Nessie’s gaze strayed to her sister, who was somehow managing to look as though she’d heard Gabe sing a thousand times before. But Nessie wasn’t fooled; there was a telltale flush along Sam’s cheekbones that suggested she was far from immune to the effect of his voice. Interesting, Nessie thought, with a secret smile.

  The applause was rapturous when Gabe stopped singing.

  Martha leaned against the bar and fanned herself with a beer mat. ‘Is it me or is it suddenly a bit warm?’

  Ruby took a sip of her elderflower spritzer. ‘It’s not you – it’s hotter than Burt Reynolds’ chest hair in here.’ She gave Nessie an arch look. ‘I hope you’re got plenty of ice back there.’


  ‘Good point.’ Nessie caught her brother’s eye. ‘Could you bring some more ice through when you’ve got a minute, please?’

  Laurie nodded and disappeared through the door that led to the kitchen.

  Ruby sniffed. ‘I’m glad to see you’re putting him to work. You might make a barman out of him yet.’

  ‘I know you’re not convinced by him,’ Nessie said, lowering her voice so that only Ruby could hear, ‘but give him another chance. At the end of the day, he is Dad’s son.’

  The older woman was silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on the swirling ice cubes in her glass. Then she looked up, a faintly reminiscent look in her eyes. ‘You’re right, as always, Nessie. Everyone deserves a second chance.’

  Nessie opened her mouth to reply, but Kathryn chose that exact moment to materialise at Ruby’s side. ‘I need a long drink of something very cold and I need it right now.’

  Wordlessly, Nessie poured her a pint of ice-cold lager and set it on the bar.

  Kathryn took a long draught, then wiped the foam from her lips and fixed Nessie with a determined look. ‘And now you’re going to introduce me to your hot new chef.’

  ‘You might want to wait,’ Ruby said, nodding towards the stage. ‘It looks like Henry is about to perform and you won’t want to miss it.’ She winked at Kathryn, who looked back and forth between her and Nessie.

  ‘I’ve heard Henry sing before. What am I not going to want to miss?’

  ‘His moves, darling,’ Ruby said, eyes twinkling. ‘He’s added a few flourishes to his performance and it’s like Elvis himself has come back to delight us all.’

  Understanding dawned on Kathryn’s face. ‘All the more reason to find something else to do. Where did Gabe go, anyway?’

  ‘He’s being mobbed by Martha and her friends,’ Nessie observed. ‘Come on, he probably needs rescuing.’

  But they hadn’t got more than halfway across the pub floor when the opening bars of Henry’s chosen song started to play. Both of them stopped: it definitely wasn’t an Elvis song.

  ‘Is that—’ Nessie began.

  Kathryn nodded. ‘Bruno Mars. Well, well, it seems Henry has updated his repertoire.’