Mrs Boots. Deborah Carr

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СКАЧАТЬ that Mr Boot and his mother had worked closely together in their shops since his father’s death when he was only ten. ‘I was sorry to hear of your loss.’

      His expression darkened and for a moment she thought she’d been too personal. Then, he cleared his throat. ‘It was. I think it was doubly difficult as we’d also worked together. Jane insisted I take time away from the business to visit Jersey for a holiday. She thought the sea air would do me good.’ He laughed. ‘I’ve only been here a couple of hours and already I feel somewhat refreshed.’

      ‘You haven’t been to Jersey before, Mr Boot?’ Amy asked.

      ‘This is my first time. I haven’t thought to take time away from my business before now.’ He smiled. ‘I’m told the weather is always sunny in Jersey, and the milk and new potatoes are the best in the world.’

      Everyone laughed. She thought back to the stormy weather they had experienced for the previous few days, which had cut the island off from the mainland and France when the ferries to Southampton and St Malo had to be cancelled.

      ‘And you wouldn’t be wrong thinking that, most of the time,’ her father said. ‘Although, maybe not so much about the weather. I believe it’s slightly warmer than on the mainland but it can rain here just as much when it chooses to.’

      ‘Usually when you least wish it,’ Florence added.

      Mr Boot smiled at her. It was a friendly smile; she noticed something more behind his eyes than she had expected. Then her father began discussing aspects of Mr Boot’s visit and Florence listened as their guest chatted to her parents. She liked the sound of his voice. She recalled Jane explaining that her accent was an East Midland’s one. It was gentle and different to the voices she usually heard each day. Although, she mused, a lot of those were French, or the locals speaking Jèrriais. It wasn’t surprising, therefore, that they did sound different.

      If what her father was saying were true, which she assumed it was, she had never met anyone as successful as Mr Boot. She liked that he wasn’t boastful or arrogant. He seemed very matter-of-fact, and, by what Jane had said, he didn’t take much time to do anything other than work very hard. Her thoughts were interrupted hearing her father mentioning her name.

      ‘… day off tomorrow and I’m certain she would be delighted to show you some of the sights here on the island. Wouldn’t you, Florence?’

      All thoughts of finishing The Mayor of Casterbridge vanished; however, she found that she didn’t mind nearly as much as she would have expected.

      ‘Yes, that would be lovely,’ she said, smiling at Mr Boot. ‘We could, um—’ she thought quickly, recalling how Jane had mentioned that her brother was sometimes troubled by an ailment, which she believed might be rheumatoid arthritis. If that was the case, then she assumed that walking far would not be something he would wish to do ‘—take the Jersey Railway to St Aubin, if you wish? Or, maybe the Jersey Eastern Railway to Gorey. Whichever you prefer.’

      He rested his hands on his legs and nodded. ‘I will leave the choice to you. Maybe we could do one trip tomorrow and the other on another day?’

      Florence had hoped for some time alone after such a busy early summer at the shop, but expected that time with Mr Boot could also be enjoyable. She did like showing friends who were new to the island the places that she particularly liked.

      ‘I would enjoy that,’ she said. It was only a slight fib, because she would rather have been alone, and she instantly felt mean for her thoughts.

      The mantel clock chimed the hour and Florence and Amy stood. ‘We should return to the shop,’ Amy suggested.

      Mr Boot winced slightly as he stood up. ‘I apologise. I have taken up more of your time that I intended. When would be convenient for me to call on you tomorrow, Miss Rowe?’

      Hoping to make his day as relaxed as possible, Florence said. ‘If you call on me at ten o’clock, then we could make our way the short distance up the road to Snow Hill and catch the train from there to Gorey.’

      The eastern terminus was so much closer than the one for the westbound train. Let the poor man rest as much as possible on his first days here, she thought; after all, it was what he had come to the island to do.

      He gave a slight bow with his head. ‘I shall look forward to our adventure, Miss Rowe. Thank you.’

      Florence stared at him thoughtfully. There was something different about this man, but she couldn’t work out what it might be. She was surprised to realise that she was looking forward to their outing, too. ‘As am I, Mr Boot.’

      She followed Amy from the living room and down to the shop. Father rarely permitted the shop to be closed during the daytime and already Florence could see five disconcerted customers waiting anxiously by the front door.

      Amy rushed over and unlocked it, turning over the closed sign to mark the place open, once again. ‘My apologies for making you wait,’ she said sweetly.

      ‘Anything wrong?’ one of their regular customers – a short, sour-faced elderly woman with an overly large hat – had grumbled.

      ‘Father has an unexpected guest,’ Amy explained, widening her eyes over the woman’s head as the lady marched past her to the display of postcards Florence had put together that morning.

      ‘I hope this isn’t going to be a regular occurrence; I’ve been waiting ten minutes to buy a map from you. This really won’t do.’

      Florence was tempted to give the woman a snappy retort. Their father never let his clients down and would be mortified to think he had upset anyone by his actions. Without having known about Mr Boot’s arrival prior to his appearance, even Florence could tell, simply by her father’s temporary closure of the shop, that he had thought him important.

      She opened her mouth to speak, and just then Amy said, ‘I doubt it will happen again any time soon.’ Her sister looked at the brown wrapping in the lady’s basket. ‘I suspect you were able to choose some nice material from the haberdashers while you waited?’

      The lady beamed at Amy, her complaint forgotten. ‘I did, as a matter of interest. I spotted a fine fabric in their window display and simply had to have it.’

      ‘All is well then,’ Florence said, wanting to be sure the woman didn’t take her complaint to their father when he returned to the shop. She would hate for his day to be ruined by someone else’s criticism.

      ‘It is.’ The woman held up a copy of The Mayor of Casterbridge in her gloved hand. ‘My daughter tells me this book might be something I’d enjoy. What do you think?’

      Florence’s thoughts had been consumed by the unusual man she had met earlier. Hurriedly thinking of a reply, she wondered if the daughter had yet read the book, not minding so much that she had been held back from being able to read more of it by now. ‘I’ve read a little,’ she admitted, ‘and I enjoyed it very much. I’m afraid I’ll need to check we have your name on the list of customers who have ordered the book.’

      She hoped the woman was on the list; the thought that she would have something else to grumble about worried Florence. She took the lady’s name and went to check.

      Movement by the store-front window caught her eye. The front door to their flat was open and she could see her father and Mr Boot speaking outside. She СКАЧАТЬ