Shopping

You can read the story so far from the beginning here

The farm shop was almost empty as Hilary bustled in. “Good morning!” she called.

Jed looked up from the papers spread over the counter next to the till. “Good morning, Hilary,” he said. “You’re early.”

“Well, she has to stock up for her new lodger and Lord Peregrine,” Marlene said, from where she was dusting a shelf of tinned beans. “How are you managing, dear?”

Hilary blinked. “You heard, then?”

“Everyone knows,” Marlene said. “It’s on the village group chat. I think it’s lovely that you took in Tom. He’s such a sweetie and he didn’t deserve what happened.”

“Why? What happened?” Hilary asked. It was worth calling into the farm shop just for the gossip, picking up some bread or milk as an excuse to hear what was going on. “Is everything alright?”

“We don’t like to talk about it,” Jed said firmly, shooting a quick look at Marlene. “But if you’re talking about feeding Tom, he’s not very picky.”

“The thing about feeding werewolves is that you need to concentrate on quantity,” Marlene said. “They’re not fussy creatures, and they’re happy with something warm at the end of the day.”

Hilary was still getting used to talking openly about werewolves and brownies, but the mortals at Praydon Farm Shop had been farming this area since before the Romans, according to the locals, so it wasn’t too surprising that they knew about the small community here. “I want to send him in with lunch as well,” she said. “He’s a paying guest, and I don’t like the idea of him stuck in the centre of Leeds eating those expensive lunches.”

“That will be a help to him, not having to pay city prices for lunch,” Marlene agreed. “And he’ll be glad to save money after…” She broke off and glanced guiltily at her husband. “Lord Peregrine is a different kettle of fish, of course,” she said, quickly changing the subject. “I can’t imagine what he’ll be like.”

“He’ll be a nuisance, like all the Fair Folk,” Jed said. “But if you’re feeding Tom, I’ve just put together some nice, juicy burgers fresh this morning.” He waved his hand at the butchery counter. “They’re not like the frozen rubbish that you get in supermarkets, but they’re the good stuff.”

“They do look nice,” Hilary said. “How is your son doing? Is he still dating Suzanne?”

“Daniel’s supposed to be picking up half a dozen sheep for the small pasture,” Marlene said. “He should have been back over an hour ago but Suzanne will be there and you know how youngsters are…”

A visit to the farm shop was never quick. Hilary’s haul for the week included more meat than she normally cooked in a month, a very fine cabbage picked from the fields at the back, an absolute bargain haul of lentils and a full briefing on all the local area’s gossip. “This is great,” Hilary said. “I’ll probably be back in a day or two for more.”

“I’m sorry that we don’t carry everything you wanted,” Marlene said. “There’s not really enough call for it.”

“It’s not worth our while,” Jed added. “It would sell, but what with the farm and the butchery, plus all plants that we’ve started selling, we don’t have a minute. You’ll have to go to one of those supermarkets.”

“Maybe someone will open a general store,” Marlene said. “The Lesken sisters are closing down the tea rooms. Someone could take over that.”

“I didn’t know the tea rooms were closing,” Hilary said. “I went there last week.”

“Then you’ll know why they’re closing,” Marlene said.

“It’s easy to be harsh,” Jed said with a look at Marlene. “But the sisters have been running that tea shop for years. They deserve a break.”

“They must be eighty if they’re a day,” Marlene said. “My grandmother used to go there when it first opened, when she was a girl.” She moved over to the shelf with the farm jams. “And through all that time it’s been Rington’s tea, coffee out of a jar, jam tarts and scones. They haven’t even tried selling sandwiches.”

“None of us are getting any younger,” Jed said placidly. “And they’re brownies, so they live a little longer. But if you ask me, they look like they’re at the time of life when they should take things a little easier.”

“If you’re doing all the cooking at your house, perhaps the tea room would suit you,” Marlene said, grinning at Hilary. “You could give it a revamp.”

“Absolutely not!” Hilary said quickly. “I’ve got a job, thank you very much, and I’m not messing around with a tea room. It looks like it would be endless washing up.”

Jed chuckled. “You’re already running a guest house with Bracken and Tom staying with you,” he said. “And I know how big that house is. When I was a lad, I helped carry the carpets in to redo the whole thing and I remember how many rooms there were. You should list yourself as a B&B.”

“As I said, I already have a job,” Hilary said, shaking her head. “Besides, Bracken is technically an employee and Tom is a werewolf. I’m not sure I want to risk taking anyone else in as goodness only knows who else I’d end up with.”

Sam Scorton wandered in. “You won’t believe who I just saw talking to the Lesken sisters,” he said.

Jed looked blank. “Everybody talks to the Lesken sisters. They’re they only tea room for miles.”

“I mean, talking,” Sam said. “I’d just finished sorting out that slip on the hill…”

“The one that happened the same night as, you know…” Marlene asked.

“Yeah, the night it all went wrong with the Lowgills. I didn’t even notice the damage for a couple of days after all that drama.”

“Tom’s staying with Hilary at Rowan Cottage,” Marlene said, nodding at her.

Sam nodded. “That’s good news. Tom deserves some luck after what happened,” he said. “And none of it his fault. No, I saw Lord Peregrine talking with the Lesken sisters about the tea rooms. I wonder if it’s him that’s going to buy it.”

“That would be a turn up,” Marlene said. “I can’t imagine Lord Peregrine wearing a frilly apron and serving up scones like the old sisters did.”

“Let’s not be disrespectful,” Jed said mildly. “And I’m sure it could have been about anything.”

Hilary grinned. “I love that image of Lord Peregrine in a pink frilly apron with a plate of scones, but he’d never take any orders, not even for a cup of tea.”

Jed laughed. “That I can believe,” he said.

“He’d be telling people how to take their tea and whether they should have jam or cream on the scone,” Sam chuckled. “No, he was talking, like outside the tea shop and pointing up at the rooms above.”

“There’s not an inch of space in that place,” Marlene said. “I went to help out once when Ivy had the flu, and I stayed on a few days when Olive caught it next. I saw the whole place while I was there and there’s hardly room to swing a cat.” She caught sight of Jed’s expression. “I wasn’t going to miss the chance to look around, was I? The tea room is big enough, but the rooms upstairs are full of stock and cooking things. I know that the sisters had a room, but being brownies, that didn’t take much space and it was just as well.”

“Anyone who takes that over will have some work to do,” Sam said, leaning on a freezer full of turkey legs. “I don’t think that it’s been painted since they took over.”

“But it will be clean,” Marlene said. “It’s always been very clean.”

Hilary wished she could stay and hear all the speculation, but time was ticking on and she had a dinner or two to prepare. “Could you help me carry my bags to the car, please, Jed?” she asked. “I’m not used to shopping for more than one.”

“Of course, lass,” Jed said, stepping around the counter. “And when you shop for a werewolf, you have to shop in bulk.”

The wind hissed coldly over the car park as Hilary hurried across the concrete and over to her elderly Ford. “Thanks, Jed,” she said. “Next time I’ll be more organised.”

“It’s not a problem, Hilary,” Jed said, lowering the bags as she unlocked her Ford Focus. “Hang on!”

Hilary jumped at the unexpected shout and then stared in horror as a sudden gust of the chill November wind rattled the ash leaning over the farm gate. With horrifying slowness, a huge tree limb cracked, slowly drooping with an unnerving groan and tearing through lower branches towards the road, just as a small, open backed truck approached. “Stay back!” she yelled, dropping her bag and racing towards the lane. “Stop!” She waved her arms frantically, hoping that she’d be seen.

The truck slammed on the brakes, just in time. The branch crashed heavily down, thrashing through the tree and landing a hand’s breadth in front of the truck. For a moment, everyone froze, waiting for a crash, before breathing out as the truck rocked violently at the sudden halt and its tailgate flew open.

“Oh bloody hell!” Jed said, “Pardon my language,” he added automatically as he raced over. “Daniel, are you okay?”

His son was still gripping the steering wheel, white knuckled and frozen at the shock of the near miss. He took a deep, shuddering breath and forced himself to look up at Jed. “Dad!” Then he slowly turned as half a dozen sheep bleated their glee as they bounced out of the truck and headed wildly back down the lane. “Oh heck.”

Hilary reached the tangled mess of branches in front of the car. Thanks to Daniel’s quick reflexes, there wasn’t a scratch on the truck but it was incredibly close. Hilary reached out to pull the branch back, but the bark was slick and it was too heavy for her to try and move. It was certainly heavy enough to do damage to the truck, and Daniel with it, if he had gone a metre further forward.

“Come on, lass,” Jed said from behind him. “We won’t get this moved any time soon. Sam will give you a lift home in the tractor, taking you over the back fields, and you can come back for your car later.” He tugged at one of the side branches of the huge tree limb blocking the road. “This will take some shifting, and you need to get your meat home before it gets too warm.”

Hilary shivered as the icy wind whistled around her and thought the meat would be as cold out here as in a fridge, but a lift was better than waiting around. “Thanks, that would be kind,” she said. She gathered up her bags, then looked back to the blocked road. She had touched the branch and felt the magic curling around it. It hadn’t fallen by accident and she wondered what that meant.