Keeping Mum. Kate Lawson

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      Cass was halfway through the first set and well into the second verse of Moondance when the shop bell rang.

      Buster opened an eye but didn’t bother barking or moving.

      ‘Some guard dog you turned out to be,’ Cass murmured as she got to her feet. Putting down her hammer, Cass went into the shop, dropping a handful of brass tacks into the pocket of the big canvas apron she was wearing.

      ‘Hello?’ called a male voice rather tentatively from the front of the shop.

      Cass looked at the man for a second, struggling to place his face.

      ‘Mike,’ he said warmly, heading towards her extending his hand. ‘We met the other night at your mother’s house? Mike? I’m the architect?’

      Cass reddened, embarrassed. ‘God of course, I’m so sorry,’ she said hastily. ‘I was miles away—working…’ She didn’t mention the singing, as she indicated the back of the shop with a nod of her head and the last of the tacks cupped in the palm of her hand in case he might need some sort of visual aid. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here,’ she said although, even as she said it, Cass realised it sounded more like, I wasn’t expecting to see you again.

      ‘Right,’ said Mike. ‘I did ring. I was going to ring again but I didn’t want you to think I was stalking you.’ He tried out a laugh.

      And then there was a silence while Cass tried to work out if Mike had dropped by to see her, which was flattering, or whether he was curious about the shop, or had been prompted by Rocco and her mother. It felt awkward, and Cass was just wondering what she should say next when Mike said, ‘Actually, I’m looking for a dresser and your mum said this was a good place to start. You’ve got some lovely stuff in here—apparently.’ His gaze roamed around the shop’s interior. ‘She’s right, it is an Aladdin’s cave.’

      ‘You could say that. Sorry I didn’t return your call.’ Cass rummaged through various excuses that would be mutually painless. ‘I’ve been up to my eyes with the concert and the trip.’

      Mike nodded.

      ‘I’ve got a couple of dressers in at the moment, one’s out the back in the store, that’s quite nice, small, pine, probably turn of the last century, classic two-drawer two-cupboard. Or I’ve got a really lovely early Victorian one if you’ve got the room. It’s Irish, very rustic and huge.’ She guided him back into the shop, where one wall was dominated by a dresser that was nearly eight feet long and almost as tall, currently decked out with various bits of blue and white china.

      ‘Wow, that is amazing,’ said Mike appreciatively, running his hands over the deep wooden dresser top that was cut from one great plank of timber. The front edge was uneven where it followed the profile of the tree, and the wood itself had aged down to a rich, dark ginger; it showed signs of a combination of long use and great care.

      ‘It’s one of a kind.’

      Mike nodded and stood back to take it in. ‘Nice…’

      ‘But a little too big for what you had in mind?’ suggested Cass.

      ‘No, actually not at all,’ he said, still looking it over. ‘I’ve just finished converting an old chapel in Steepleton and it would look great in there. I’ve got a really nice kitchen—I’m like your mother, I love to cook.’ As he bent down to open the row of doors he revealed a neatly combed-over bald patch, confirming her suspicions that he was nothing like her mother. ‘Actually, it would be perfect. Assuming we could come to an agreement about price.’

      Cass watched him thoughtfully as he worked his hand and eye over the old wood. The dresser was one of those things she loved but hadn’t been able to shift. Handmade by an unknown craftsman, it was beautiful if somewhat quirky, with oversized half-moon metal handles and shelves with fronts that followed the shape of the tree the plank was cut from rather than being squared off. Mike picked up the price tag, a little white parcel label tucked discreetly through one of the handles.

      ‘Will you take an offer?’

      Cass considered it for a moment.

      ‘What I mean is, is this your best price?’

      ‘It is if you want me to arrange to have it delivered, it is. It weighs a ton,’ Cass said.

      Mike hesitated, but if he was expecting Cass to waiver he’d picked the wrong bunny. ‘Fair enough. Would you mind if I measured it up?’ he asked, pulling a tape and pad out of the pocket of his Barbour.

      ‘Be my guest,’ said Cass. ‘Is there anything else I can interest you in?’

      Mike set the tape out along the top of the dresser and Cass instinctively caught hold of the dumb end. ‘How about lunch?’ he said, as he jotted the numbers down.

      ‘Oh very smooth,’ she said.

      Mike’s eyes were alight with mischief. ‘I like to think so—I really enjoyed supper with Rocco and your mother the other night, but it would be nice to talk to you without the dynamic duo filling in the blanks.’

      ‘And hogging the limelight?’

      ‘Exactly,’ said Mike.

      ‘So, looking at my dresser was just a cunning ploy to ask me out?’

      ‘No, I really do want one and Rocco was right, this would be perfect in the new kitchen. It’s one of the nicest ones I’ve seen in a while. Presumably it comes to pieces?’

      ‘Uh-huh—the shelves slide out and the top lifts off the base, which divides into two, the bun feet unscrew and finally the fretwork trim and finial top lifts off—mind you, it’s still not exactly a flat-pack.’

      ‘Will you hold it for me while I just double check that it will fit?’

      Cass nodded. ‘Consider it done.’

      ‘When could you arrange to have it delivered?’

      ‘Probably by the end of this week—as long as we’re talking cash.’

      Mike nodded. ‘Okay. And how about to lunch?’

      Cass smiled; the bottom line was that Mike still wasn’t her type. ‘It’s a nice offer, but I don’t close at lunchtime. And I’m hardly dressed for eating out…’ She glanced down at the work shirt and jeans she was wearing under her apron.

      ‘It is short notice,’ said Mike shifting his weight from foot to foot.

      Cass suspected he was about to add, Maybe another time then or, Ah well, never mind, worth a shot, or maybe even suggest they made it dinner instead in which case she had better come up with a good excuse quickly, when he said, ‘Actually, I don’t mind what you’re wearing. I was thinking maybe just grabbing soup and a sandwich. Local greasy spoon.’

      ‘You really know how to impress a girl,’ said Cass wryly.

      Mike laughed. ‘I thought I’d aim low and see what kind of reception I got, bearing in mind you didn’t ring me back.’

      Cass СКАЧАТЬ