Nine Steps to Sara Read online

While Will kept Jack entertained, Sara visited every shop lining the sides of the main street, not wanting to slight anyone. Joanie came with her when it piqued her interest, but more often than not, begged off to sit outside on one of the many wrought iron benches provided for just such a purpose.

  Everywhere Sara went, the people seemed to know exactly who she was and where she’d come from. She probably should have expected that, but she hadn’t expected them to be so open and welcoming, as if she was the greatest thing since sliced bread. Maybe she felt a little on display as people watched her shop, but no one had an unkind thing to say and they were very sweet to Jack. There weren’t many people her age though, the population seemed to be predominantly in their fifties or older. There were no children to be seen anywhere and there was no sign of a school.

  An interesting mish mash of odds and ends led her into a deserted curio shop, the lonely bell above the door her only company until a raspy voice spoke at her elbow.

  “I’ve dipped wicks for your lands my entire life.”

  “Huh?” Sara turned to find a stooped old man, smiling up at her with a gap-toothed grin. Unruly tufts of hair stuck out above both ears giving him a slightly frazzled appearance. Grizzled and worn, his eyes shone a vivid, bright blue in stark contrast to his grayed out complexion.

  “Dipped wicks,” he repeated as if that made it perfectly clear. “And poured as well, though I don’t think they burn as evenly.”

  “I’m sorry; I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He presented her with a pair of hand dipped taper candles, joined by a single wick and she started to clue in on the topic at hand. “These are my specialty; you can thank Bernice for those.”

  Sara accepted them; they were a deep, rich blue on the bottom fading to a lighter shade at the top. “Oh, you make candles, I get it,” she breathed a sigh of relief that they were finally on the same page. “Bernice? Is that your wife?”

  “She’s my queen,” he laughed, or maybe he coughed, she couldn’t be sure.

  “Right…”

  “Of the bees, you know.”

  “Bees,” Sara nodded, thinking she was still missing part of the conversation, or maybe his picnic basket was missing a few sandwiches up top. “So, you’re a bee keeper and a candle maker.”

  “Chandler by profession,” he admitted proudly. “Though I have to sell my treasures to keep afloat these days,” he looked around with a brokenhearted sigh. Though one wall of the shop was devoted to candles, the rest was dominated by everything from carved jewelry boxes to cartography equipment.

  “I’m sorry, Mr…?”

  “Name’s Pottinger, my Lady. Don’t feel sorry for me though. All about to change, mark my words. Well, you know all about that.”

  “I know all about what?” Sara couldn’t decide if she was supposed to know what he was talking about, or if he didn’t make sense to anyone but himself.

  “The change coming. There’s bound to be an end to the rum luck we’ve had these past thirty years now there’s a Darling back in the house.”

  Her brows knit together in puzzlement as to why he’d link his success or failure to anything having to do with her family’s house. “Why would that have anything to do with your luck?”

  “Ah,” he tapped his nose knowingly. “I take your meaning, my Lady. Play it close to the vest by all means. You never know who might be listening.”

  Sara stared back at him blankly. “Who might be listening? We’re the only ones here.”

  “Never you mind about that, there’s always ears about,” he nodded sagely, voice dropping conspiratorially. “Mind what you say, especially when you think you’re alone, my Lady. Mark my words; we won’t see the light without a fair amount of darkness ahead.”

  She didn’t even begin to know how to respond to that piece of advice. Luckily, she didn’t have to as the bell above the door jangled cheerily and Will strode in. “Ah, there you are, my Lady. We wondered where you’d gotten off to. Jack’s been asking for you.”

  “Oh yes, best see to the boy’s needs,” the old man drew a raspy breath. “It wouldn’t do for anything to befall him yet, would it?”

  Yet? Sara opened her mouth to ask him what he meant by that, but Will was already at her elbow, steering her towards the door. “Good afternoon, we really must be off now,” he had them outside on the street with a jangle of the bell inside of five seconds.

  “There is something seriously wrong with that guy,” Sara murmured, looking back over her shoulder where Pottinger waved cheerily from the window.

  “He’s harmless really; just a bit… eccentric is all.”

  “Eccentric? You should have heard some of the stuff he said about bad luck. And what was that about Jack not being ready for an accident yet?”

  “You’ll have to forgive some of the older folks around here, they’re a mite superstitious. I’m sure it was his way of saying we should take care not to let Jack wander off alone until he’s accustomed to the territory,” he shrugged it off. “No worries there, your friend’s with him.”

  Maybe so, but she couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to that conversation than could be shrugged away. “Oh, I forgot to pay for these,” she still had the taper candles in her hand.

  “Don’t fret, Sara, I’m sure he’ll add it to the account. He supplies the house with all of the candles; I pick them up once a week.”

  “Oh.” At least he was calling her Sara again… “So you play delivery boy as well? Besides not being a chauffeur. What else do you do?”

  “I dreamt of being an architect once, but it didn’t work out.”

  “No? Why not?”

  “Jack and Miss Sunshine are waiting for us at the Bell and Cross; it’s a small inn with a public dining room. I thought you might want a bit of refreshment.”

  It wasn’t lost on her that he’d changed the subject, but she had no right to demand he tell her his secrets; especially not on the first day. “That’s probably a good idea, it’s been a long time since breakfast, Jack is probably starving. Or did you let him eat all that candy?”

  “I might have let him carry the bag,” he replied with a faint smile, refusing to look at her and Sara couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Then real food is definitely in order. Miss Sunshine, huh? I take it Joanie’s not on your list of favorite people so far?”

  “Let’s say if she was the heir, I would have let her walk to town,” he replied with a wink, holding the door open for her.

  Chapter Five

  “Hey Mom, wait ‘til you see what I got!” Jack ran up to greet Sara as soon as she stepped into the dining room. Large trestle tables were set up to encourage community dining as well as a few smaller tables along one wall. A quick search showed Joanie taking up the entire side of one table, her feet propped up on the chair beside her.

  “What is it, kiddo?”

  “I got a lucky hat for fishing. Will said you have to have a lucky hat or the fish won’t bite. I’ve never heard of that before, have you?”

  “Ah… it’s been a long time, but yes, I think there’s a fair amount of luck involved with fishing,” Sara grinned over Jack’s enthusiasm.

  “Will said he’d teach me how to fish if you said so, will you say so?”

  “I think that can be arranged,” she allowed, before turning back to face Will. “Getting my son to spend some time outside might qualify you for the sainthood,” she grinned.

  “Hardly,” he chuckled. “The boy just wants a bit of proper guidance, and there’s a prime spot for fishing not too far from here.” A red cheeked woman in an apron bustled in to lay silverware at the table and Will sobered, his stance becoming more formal. “I’ll leave you to it then, my Lady. Enjoy your meal.”

  “You’re not joining us?” she blinked in surprise. Somehow she’d thought he would stick around, he seemed to enjoy her company and Jack’s too.

  “I don’t think it’d be proper, my Lady. I’ll have something at the bar and I’ll meet you
outside when you’re finished.”

  “Oh right, proper,” Sara gave a disappointed sigh. “Okay, I’ll catch you later then, enjoy your lunch.”

  Will leaned close, his words for her ears only with the woman’s back turned. “I’ll hold you to that,” he pulled back with a grin that made her tingle all the way to her toes.

  “Welcome to the Bell and Cross, your Ladyship,” the woman bobbed as Sara approached the table. “I’m Mrs. Dockery and this here’s my place. Anything you like at all, I’ll be pleased as punch to bring it for you,” she grinned from ear to ear.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Dockery,” Sara smiled as she took a seat beside Jack. “You don’t have to go to any special trouble for us though, whatever’s on the menu should do fine.”

  “We’ve no proper menu, my Lady. The daily specials are just there on the board,” she pointed to a chalkboard on the wall. Unfortunately, that didn’t shed much light on what there was to eat.

  “I don’t want to eat toads, Mom,” Jack’s eyes widened behind his glasses.

  “I’m afraid we’re not used to typical British food, we might need a bit of a translation,” Sara admitted sheepishly.

  “No trouble at all, my Lady,” Mrs. Dockery beamed, glad to be of service. After a brief rundown, Jack decided to go with the Toad in the Hole after all, and Sara ordered the bangers and mash. When it was Joanie’s turn to order, she stared at the board, her nose wrinkled with distaste.

  “Do you have anything that isn’t made of sausage, fried or swimming in gravy?”

  “We’ve the soup of the day.”

  “Awesome, what kind of soup is it?”

  “Leek and Bacon soup, Miss. And it’s very good, I made it myself,” she replied proudly, but the answer didn’t seem to please Joanie.

  “Can I get a salad? Maybe a little grilled chicken on top?”

  “Grilled chicken?” Mrs. Dockery sounded dubious.

  “Whatever you have on hand is fine, we don’t need special treatment.” Sara couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable over the fuss Joanie made.

  “I’ll see what I can conjure up, Miss,” Mrs. Dockery smiled, leaving them after they’d made their drink orders as well.

  “What’s the point of traveling to a foreign country if you can’t try something new?” Sara sighed, leaning back in her seat.

  “Hey, she offered,” Joanie shrugged, oblivious to Sara’s embarrassment. “Can we head back to the house after this? There’s a bathtub with my name written on it waiting for me to soak my feet.”

  Sara looked down to Joanie’s fashionable, but very narrow heels with a wince of sympathy. “You should have worn more comfortable shoes.”

  “These are my most comfortable shoes.”

  “Well who asked you to wear heels to the English countryside?” Sara traded a look with Jack, who shrugged. He didn’t get it either.

  “I thought I’d be right at home, have you ever seen Posh Spice?” Joanie moaned, rotating her feet in little circles. “I thought we’d be closer to London, you didn’t tell me we’d be at the ass end of England.”

  “I like it out here,” Jack volunteered, and Sara reached out to ruffle his hair.

  “So do I, kiddo. Most people would consider this to be a very picturesque village. Don’t you like getting away from all the smog and traffic? It’s so peaceful out here.”

  “Peaceful?” Joanie snorted before resting her head on the table with a thump. “I’m sorry I’m being so crabby, I’m just so tired. I’m surprised you guys look so rested and chipper with all that banging last night, I hardly slept a wink.”

  “Banging?” Sara traded puzzled looks with Jack. “I didn’t hear any banging, did you?”

  “No.”

  “It doesn’t surprise me, you didn’t sleep on the plane at all; you were probably dead to the world. It sounded like someone was using the pipes as a bongo drum. Let’s hope the racket doesn’t continue tonight or heads will roll.”

  “I’ll ask Mrs. Poole about it, maybe they had some problems with the plumbing or something and wanted to fix it before we woke up and wanted showers,” Sara promised.

  “Oh hey, how did the meeting with the lawyer go? Is there enough for you to retire or is the place a big ol’ money pit?”

  “No, there’s definitely enough for me to retire,” Sara replied vaguely, not wanting to get into specifics.

  “Awesome! Let’s go pick out that yacht then and set sail for the south of France. Can you say yacht in French, squirt?” Joanie winked at Jack.

  “I don’t like boats, they make you sick,” the little boy replied, more interested in balancing his spoon on the end of his fork.

  “Then how do you plan on using your lucky hat to fish?”

  “From the shore,” Jack fixed Joanie with a ‘duh’ look before returning to his balancing act and Sara hid a smile behind her hand.

  “I want to focus on fixing up the house before we do any crazy spending. That way no one will be kept up nights listening to the plumbing.”

  “Okay, but we’re coming back to this,” Joanie’s eyes narrowed and Sara started to wonder if it’d been the best idea to bring her out for the trip.

  Joanie perked up when Mrs. Dockery brought out a salad with chicken, as promised and Jack and Sara both ooh’d an ah’d over their food which smelled wonderful. It tasted just as good, and the rest of the meal passed with less complaining and more general chatter.

  “Was everything to your liking?” Mrs. Dockery asked as she came to clear the plates.

  “Yes, it was delicious, thank you,” Sara kicked Joanie under the table until the redhead smiled and offered her thanks as well. “I’d love to know the recipe for the toad-in-the-hole, but I don’t suppose you’d give that away, would you?” Anything that made Jack clean his plate was destined to become one of their staples.

  “Actually, you can find it on our website, my Lady,” she replied proudly. “We’ve had ever so much more interest since we decided to have one made.”

  “Oh, you have internet then?” Joanie brightened and so did Jack. “I don’t suppose you have free wi-fi?”

  “Oh no, we haven’t got the interwebs here.”

  “Then how…”

  “That nice Mr. Lowesley put us in touch with a fellow in Town who set it up. He showed us a lovely mock up of it, but I’ve no need for computering myself,” she chuckled. “I only know we’ve had more customers in here that made mention of it.”

  “Oh,” Sara’s heart sank at seeing the expression on Jack’s face. “Is there anyplace here in the village that has public internet available?”

  “Lord strike me, I don’t think so,” Mrs. Dockery shook her head.

  “I think we’ve taken up enough of Mrs. Dockery’s time, we should probably get going. I think this should take care of the check,” Sara offered some folded bills to the woman.

  “I’ll be right back with your change.”

  “Oh no, that’s your tip.”

  “Tip?” Mrs. Dockery blinked in confusion.

  “Yes, for the meal. It’s a um… gratuity, for your excellent service,” Sara searched for the right word.

  “That’s not necessary, my Lady. That’s an American custom I believe.”

  “Oh,” now it was Sara’s turn to waver with uncertainty. It felt plain wrong not to leave a tip after working so many years as a waitress, but what could she do?

  “I’ll be right back with your change,” Mrs. Dockery repeated with a kind smile, but the moment she was gone, Sara grabbed her purse.

  “Let’s get out of here before she gets back!” she whispered, catching hold of Jack’s hand. Joanie was less enthusiastic with her sore feet, but they managed to get outside before the woman came back to the table and Sara felt a little thrill of victory. “How about we go wait by the car for Will to catch up with us?”

  He stepped out of building a moment later though, a puzzled look on his face. “Did the three of you dine and dash? You lit out of there like your tail feather
s were on fire, should I keep an eye out for the coppers?”

  “Not exactly, but we do need a fast getaway,” Sara grinned. Not that it was possible with Joanie limping behind.

  “Right then, I’ll be back with the car, wait here,” Will promised.

  “Mmm, he looks as good going as he does coming,” Joanie murmured, her head canted to one side as she watched him lope down the street. Sara couldn’t help but notice she was right, before deliberately wrenching her eyes from the display.

  *

  The house exploring had to be put off a little longer, as the moment they got back to the house, Mrs. Poole wanted to meet about the house arrangements. Joanie begged out of babysitting duty to go take a long, hot bath and Jack decided to hang out in the study with them, looking over all the older books from a respectful distance.

  After a while Jack left to go work on his book project up in his room, bored with the conversation and his inability to inspect the rare books any closer. Mrs. Poole wanted to ring for Katie to take him up, but Jack insisted he knew the way and Sara trusted he’d be able to find his way alright.

  There were more decisions to be made to keep a house of that size running than she’d thought there would be, and Sara was ready for a nap by the time they were done. “What time is dinner?” she asked as they started to wrap up.

  “Not until eight p.m. but I’ll have tea brought up to you around four if that suits,” Mrs. Poole replied.

  “There’s no way Jack will last that long,” Sara fretted, not even with a snack at four. His bedtime was at nine o’clock, that didn’t leave much time for a bath and a story either.

  “The young Sir’s dinner will be served much earlier, my Lady. Your dinner will be served at eight.”

  Amazing how they’d just spent the past couple of hours going over every conceivable detail and still there were some pretty major assumptions made on both of their parts. “Oh… well, we usually all eat together, around 6pm. Can’t we do that instead?” Sara didn’t see why Jack had to eat by himself and besides, how else would she know if he ate at all or just moved it around his plate?

  Mrs. Poole hesitated, “I… yes, of course, my Lady. I’ll see to the arrangements at once.”