finger round the label, stroked the red gingham cover, teased the neatly tied bow of the gold cord encircling it and read out the description of the contents, then held the jar up to the light and enjoyed the golden orangey glow of it. There wasn’t a single jar of homemade marmalade on the market to compare. She felt a surge of contentment run through her veins, decided the jar was the most beautiful thing in her life at that moment and set to work as though she’d never been away.
Jimbo, with an ear to her office door, listened to her banging away with the stapler and rejoiced at the old familiar sound. He really would have to stop sacking staff the moment they displeased him because it always meant him eating humble pie and he was growing tired of the taste.
Harriet caught him listening to the ripping sound of parcel tape being dragged off the reel and poked him in the ribs whispering, ‘Satisfied?’
‘I am. Music to my ears, that is.’ With a smug smile on his face he went on. ‘She’s promised not to lose her rag ever again and she says I can call her Greta now.’
‘Oh! Who’s a lucky boy, then?’ Harriet, grinning from ear to ear, went towards the kitchen to face a day of making puddings and cakes to fill the freezers. Halfway through the morning she remembered about the twins and Peter’s distress, and it took the edge off her pleasure.
Dicky Tutt had the edge taken off his pleasure in the Store that same morning but not because of the problem at the Rectory. He had called in for a copy of the Cultvorth Gazette for Georgie on his way to the pub for his morning stint and found himself facing Bryn right by Jimbo’s newsstand. The hairs on the back of Dicky’s neck stood up and his scalp prickled.
‘Good morning, Dicky! Nice day.’
Dicky picked up on the mocking tone in Bryn’s voice. Remembering how he’d hidden behind Georgie’s skirts the night she’d poured the drinks over Bryn’s head, Dicky decided to stand his ground. ‘The morning would be a lot nicer if you weren’t here.’
‘Don’t be like that, I mean no harm.’
‘Don’t you? Just go back where you came from and leave us all alone. Georgie’s had enough of you and so have I.’
Bryn took hold of the lapels of Dicky’s jacket. ‘See here, you stunted little specimen, you miserable little dwarf. I’m still Georgie’s husband and it’s staying that way. She and I are business partners, right? I’m going to bring big business to the pub and that’s what she wants. See? So your Georgie this and Georgie that means nothing.’ Bryn snapped his fingers in Dicky’s face and disdainfully dusted off his hands as though he’d been touching something unseemly.
Linda rang her panic button.
Dicky snapped. He grabbed hold of Bryn’s shirt at chest level and jerked his face down towards his own. ‘See here, matey, Georgie is mine and I’ll move heaven and earth to keep it that way. So you can take your miserable pathetic business elsewhere. Find another pub and use that for your pie-in-the-sky plans. Any more of you aggravating me I’ll go straight to the police, and talk about church towers and such. They’ll listen to me. After all, I had plenty of witnesses and they’ve all got long memories.’ Dicky relaxed his hold on Bryn. ‘So git before I do my worst.’
Jimbo appeared by the newsstand.
Dicky saw by Bryn’s eyes that he was alarmed, but only for an instant. Then they changed and Bryn sneered, ‘You! A little squirt like you? Ha!’
‘Yes, a little squirt like me. Any more sniffing around Georgie and I will, God help me, I will.’
Something in the sparky way Dicky defied him triggered the idea that Dicky was intending to marry Georgie. ‘I do believe you’re thinking of marrying her, aren’t you?’ Bryn roared with laughter, holding his sides, his mouth wide open, his eyes screwed tight, his head thrown back. The sound of his amusement bounced from wall to wall. He got out a handkerchief and wiped his
Jimbo, with an ear to her office door, listened to her banging away with the stapler and rejoiced at the old familiar sound. He really would have to stop sacking staff the moment they displeased him because it always meant him eating humble pie and he was growing tired of the taste.
Harriet caught him listening to the ripping sound of parcel tape being dragged off the reel and poked him in the ribs whispering, ‘Satisfied?’
‘I am. Music to my ears, that is.’ With a smug smile on his face he went on. ‘She’s promised not to lose her rag ever again and she says I can call her Greta now.’
‘Oh! Who’s a lucky boy, then?’ Harriet, grinning from ear to ear, went towards the kitchen to face a day of making puddings and cakes to fill the freezers. Halfway through the morning she remembered about the twins and Peter’s distress, and it took the edge off her pleasure.
Dicky Tutt had the edge taken off his pleasure in the Store that same morning but not because of the problem at the Rectory. He had called in for a copy of the Cultvorth Gazette for Georgie on his way to the pub for his morning stint and found himself facing Bryn right by Jimbo’s newsstand. The hairs on the back of Dicky’s neck stood up and his scalp prickled.
‘Good morning, Dicky! Nice day.’
Dicky picked up on the mocking tone in Bryn’s voice. Remembering how he’d hidden behind Georgie’s skirts the night she’d poured the drinks over Bryn’s head, Dicky decided to stand his ground. ‘The morning would be a lot nicer if you weren’t here.’
‘Don’t be like that, I mean no harm.’
‘Don’t you? Just go back where you came from and leave us all alone. Georgie’s had enough of you and so have I.’
Bryn took hold of the lapels of Dicky’s jacket. ‘See here, you stunted little specimen, you miserable little dwarf. I’m still Georgie’s husband and it’s staying that way. She and I are business partners, right? I’m going to bring big business to the pub and that’s what she wants. See? So your Georgie this and Georgie that means nothing.’ Bryn snapped his fingers in Dicky’s face and disdainfully dusted off his hands as though he’d been touching something unseemly.
Linda rang her panic button.
Dicky snapped. He grabbed hold of Bryn’s shirt at chest level and jerked his face down towards his own. ‘See here, matey, Georgie is mine and I’ll move heaven and earth to keep it that way. So you can take your miserable pathetic business elsewhere. Find another pub and use that for your pie-in-the-sky plans. Any more of you aggravating me I’ll go straight to the police, and talk about church towers and such. They’ll listen to me. After all, I had plenty of witnesses and they’ve all got long memories.’ Dicky relaxed his hold on Bryn. ‘So git before I do my worst.’
Jimbo appeared by the newsstand.
Dicky saw by Bryn’s eyes that he was alarmed, but only for an instant. Then they changed and Bryn sneered, ‘You! A little squirt like you? Ha!’
‘Yes, a little squirt like me. Any more sniffing around Georgie and I will, God help me, I will.’
Something in the sparky way Dicky defied him triggered the idea that Dicky was intending to marry Georgie. ‘I do believe you’re thinking of marrying her, aren’t you?’ Bryn roared with laughter, holding his sides, his mouth wide open, his eyes screwed tight, his head thrown back. The sound of his amusement bounced from wall to wall. He got out a handkerchief and wiped his
Similar Books
