Page 43 of Matilda’s Summer of New Beginnings

‘Errr — yes. I’m doing some. Although not in a — commercial-sense, you understand?’ I fudged. ‘They’re more . . . based . . . on the Padcock Pathway.’

‘You say that,’ said Sally, leaning over confidentially, ‘but—’

The potentially scary qualifier was never uttered though, because at that moment, a door behind me flung open, and I twisted around to see what the commotion was.

The door was marked Private, and the person who stood framed in it was Cerys, clutching an overnight bag.

‘Sam! The baby’s coming! Now!’ she shrieked. Her hair was wild and her eyes wilder, and it didn’t take long for Sam to race out from behind the bar and take her arm.

‘Come on,’ he said, looking as terrified as she did. ‘The car’s just out front. Can you walk?’

‘Of course I can bloody walk!’ yelled Cerys, her Welsh accent even more pronounced. ‘And what would you do if I couldn’t? Carry me? Don’t be ridiculous!’

Sam obviously realized this was an argument he couldn’t win, and clamped his lips shut. A path cleared for the pair of them through the crowded bar as if by magic. A couple of people started to clap and cheer, and Cerys gave them daggers as she lurched past on Sam’s arm. The applause faded and died a death, and the Spatchcock fell silent as Sam and Cerys disappeared into the summer evening.

That was a totally different Cerys to the one I’d met earlier, the one who had been cheerfully sitting in the tea room with her feet up. Again, I had difficulty reconciling that sort of banshee-like behaviour to Rosie. What would Rosie be like when the time came? What would Damien be like? I didn’t want to think about it.

‘Good luck!’ called Jay, once he thought the danger had passed.

‘Wow.’ Polly watched the door swing shut and then the pub erupted into excited chatter. There were loud suggestions about wetting the baby’s head in anticipation. ‘That’s me screwed with the tea room then,’ Polly said.

Fortunately, the drama had made Sally hurry back to the table to squeal with the other ladies, so I didn’t have to continue the conversation about the Padcock Pathway pictures, but I did need to respond to Polly’s comment.

‘How are you screwed?’ I asked politely.

‘Because I’ve never been in sole charge of the tea room myself for more than a couple of hours. I have absolutely no idea what to do. Cerys was going to give me a handover, but I guess the baby didn’t want to wait until she did that.’ Polly pulled a face. ‘I’m sure Edie would help if she was around, but she’s tied up in London with some charity events. So yes. I’m truly screwed. Oh — not as screwed as Jay though. Look — there’s an onslaught.’

I followed where Polly indicated, and saw a huge sea of people swarming towards the bar. The Planning had obviously ended for the evening (whether that was the intention of the ladies or not I didn’t know, but clearly nobody gave a flying ferret about it now. This latest development was far more exciting). The patrons had decided it was definitely time to drink to Sam and Cerys and wish them well for the forthcoming “nappy” event.

‘Oh dear,’ I said. ‘Ummmm — right.’ I looked at Polly helplessly. ‘Sure, I’m going in,’ I heard myself saying, surprising even myself. ‘I’ve worked in bars, and I need to save Jay. I’ll catch you later, okay?’

Almost without thinking, I stood up and found myself hurrying to the bar. ‘Need some help?’ I asked, ducking under the armpit of someone waving a credit card around and demanding something artisan. ‘I’m a dab hand at cocktails.’

Jay looked at me and nodded quickly. ‘That would be great, if you don’t mind. Can you get under there?’ He indicated a hinged section on the end of the bar.

‘Yep. No problem.’ I ducked down again, and popped up next to him. ‘Well hello there.’

‘Hey you.’ He grinned at me, while handing a pint over the counter to someone. ‘Not much call for cocktails here, but if you can pour wine, pull a pint or make a G&T you’ll fit right in.’

‘No worries.’ I took a deep breath and looked at the crowd. They looked pretty scary baying for drinks, but I’d worked in Whitechapel and the reputation of the Kray twins — long gone they may be, but the spirit of their endeavours lingered on — and their gangland friends was, I was sure, much worse than anything I’d encounter tonight. ‘Hello — what can I get you?’ I asked a lady cheerfully. ‘Excuse me if I’m a bit slow — I’m Jay and Rosie’s friend from London, but I’ve done plenty of bar work.’

‘Oh! Thank you. How kind of you to step in! It’s not every day Padcock gets a new baby. I’ll have a large glass of house red please — the merlot.’ She smiled and pointed helpfully behind me. ‘That’s it there.’

‘Lovely. Okay, let me just sort that out for you . . .’

And that was how the rest of my evening panned out. I had a price list close by, the till was pretty standard to work, and I kept bumbling around and brushing awfully close to Jay when we were at our busiest, but it was very enjoyable and the time flew.

At some point, Polly left. I looked across at where we’d been sitting and the table was empty, but I knew we had unfinished business. I noted that Owen had left too, but I didn’t think they were together, sadly. She’d very kindly left me a note with her mobile number on though, which was useful.

Once closing time came, and the last few stragglers had left the Spatchcock in a rather buoyant mood, Jay and I finally managed to get some breathing time.

‘Wow. We’ve not had a night like that for some time!’ Jay told me. ‘Can I interest you in a glass of wine as a thank you? Actually. Look — Polly left the bottle for you.’

Sure enough, half a bottle of wine was left on our deserted table, the lid neatly screwed back on.

‘It would be a shame to waste it,’ I replied. ‘Let’s get tidied up and then we can sit down.’

‘Good idea.’