Finding Home by Kate Field (read book .txt) 📗

‘Do you buy Howie a drink?’ she asked.

‘Sometimes, but he’s fond of a double whisky so it can be an expensive business.’ Corin smiled. ‘Let me guess. You think I offered out of charity.’

Mim smiled.

‘Did you?’

‘No. I was being polite, not rich, and to prove it I’m now limiting my offer of a drink to a maximum spend of £2.50.’

‘In that case, I’ll have half a pint of bitter.’ She held out the card machine. ‘Thanks.’

She watched as he carried the drinks back to his group, and took a seat in the centre of them all. It was easy to make friends if you were wealthy and could buy the drinks, she supposed, although he seemed to have chosen an odd selection of friends. They were a group of men across a broad age range, with Bobby probably the youngest and the oldest one a similar age to Bill. They all looked like working men, not posh ones, and she wondered what Corin could possibly have in common with them. Clearly something – he looked entirely at ease, in the thick of the group, and there was lots of laughing and chatting going on.

The book club left around ten and Heather popped over to remind Mim of the arrangements for their first swim together on Monday. Some of Corin’s friends gradually drifted out, until by closing time only he and Bobby were left. As Bobby left the pub, Corin joined Mim at the bar.

‘It’s closing time,’ Mim said. ‘Didn’t you hear the bell for last orders?’ She’d be amazed if he’d missed it. Very appropriately, there was an old ship’s bell behind the bar and to her great delight, Howie had let her ring it.

‘I did,’ he replied. ‘You rang it with such gusto they probably heard it at Vennhallow.’ Mim grinned. Perhaps she had been rather hearty with it. ‘I came over to see if you can manage to get home safely.’

‘I expect so. I’ve figured it out now. Left at the top of the hill, then right then left. That’s it, isn’t it?’

‘Spot on. You’re like a local already.’

‘As long as I don’t open my mouth and reveal the flat vowels.’ She smiled and Corin laughed.

‘In that case, I’ll wish you goodnight.’

He’d taken a few steps away when Mim called out.

‘Corin?’ He turned, still smiling. ‘Thanks for checking.’

‘Any time,’ he said.

Chapter Seven

It was late January before Lia returned from the Maldives. She burst into the shop late one Sunday morning, startling Mim who was cleaning the shelves during a lull in trade. Although, from her experience so far, the whole of Sunday seemed to be a lull. She rarely had more than a dozen customers, and she wondered why Janet paid her to mind the shop when even her slim wages must outweigh the profit. Not that she would ever ask. The wages might be slim but they could be made to stretch surprisingly far with some clever shopping.

It helped, of course, that she was living in the static caravan rent free and bill free. Bea had even insisted that Mim should use the washing machine at the main house when she’d caught Mim handwashing her clothes in the sink. Bobby delivered a box of fresh fruit and vegetables twice a week, so Mim was eating well. It was hard to believe that a month ago she had been sleeping in her car and eating the cut-price food from the supermarket that was about to be thrown away. She owed Bill and Bea everything and her only complaint was that they wouldn’t let her do anything in return. Her debt to them was mounting by the day.

Lia bounded round the shelves and air kissed Mim’s cheeks. She looked amazing: her skin glowed with a natural tan and her hair had been transformed into a sheet of ash blonde.

‘What do you think?’ Lia asked, swishing her hair around her shoulders. ‘I had it done in London yesterday at the most divine salon. I won’t tell you how much it cost because you would be horrified, darling, but some of the top models go there so you can probably guess.’

Mim thought she probably couldn’t. Her last haircut had cost £15 over a year ago and she felt she’d been robbed at that price. But there was no doubt that Lia looked gorgeous and was wanting to be told that, so Mim obliged.

‘Did you have a good time?’ she asked, as she ran a damp cloth over the shelf to pick up the dust.

‘The. Best. Time. Ever,’ Lia said. ‘There was such a fabulous crowd there this year. We had a blast.’ She stopped and peered towards the counter. ‘Janet isn’t here, is she? This might not be fit for her disapproving ears.’

‘She’ll be here in ten minutes to cover my lunch break.’

It had taken almost three weeks but at last Janet had decided that she could trust Mim to run the shop on her own. It had made the hours in the shop a lot more fun, although Mim still had to be on her guard. She’d discovered that Janet lived in the flat upstairs and she still popped in for occasional spot checks.

‘Perfect,’ Lia said now. ‘Come home with me for lunch and I can tell you all about it.’

‘There isn’t time. I only have half an hour.’

‘Oh, she really is so mean. I’m amazed you’ve managed to bear it here for so long, darling. What do you usually do? Go to the Boat?’

‘I walk along the beach if the weather’s fine.’

Lia glanced out of the window. It was one of the best days that Mim had experienced since arriving in Devon and a weak sun was bathing the village with the illusion of warmth. Lia sighed.

‘Very well. The beach it is, although it really won’t compare to Constance Halaveli.’

‘Is she one of your friends?’ Mim asked, confused. Lia’s laughter pealed round the shop.

‘It’s a beach, darling; one of the most fabulous places in