“He must have been very popular, is all I can say…” she sniffed again.
Her words immediately conjured up a vision of his old pal, Malcolm, just returned from a back packing trip to Sydney, wiping his eyes as he chortled over the details of William’s parting remarks to the sub-editor. “Mate, we’ve all been dying to say something like that for months, but never had the courage. Good on you,” and followed it up by thrusting yet another pint of ale in his hands.
Shaking off the memory of the seemingly unending row of empty glasses, William groped for a suitable answer and ended up scratching his head, “I don’t know about that…” Then deciding to nerve himself up to it, he took a deep breath and began bravely. “Now, I know you’ve never been very keen on me working on that local paper, Auntie…”
“Waste of time – what you need is a proper job,” she broke in sharply.
Encouraged, William said simply, “…so I’ve decided to give it up.”
“About time too,” was her verdict. “I’m glad you’re seeing sense at last, because your Uncle Albert phoned. He wants to see you, so look slippy.” She eyed him up and down. “While you’re at it, you can get me a paper. Here you are – mind you bring back the change. And take that silly grin off your face, you look a mess,” was her parting shot.
Later, after nerving himself up to take a cold shower followed by a brisk rub down, William began to feel faint signs of life stealing back into his limbs. Gulping down a quick mouthful of scalding coffee and coughing over it, he held his head to stop the throbbing and made for the front door.
Watching his unsteady progress up the high street, aunt Ethel shook her head.
“Well, it’s up to you, Albert. Heaven help the pair of you is all I can say.”
Labouring up the cobbled street, William concentrated on following a straight line, taking deep breaths every now and then to help him carry on. At last, standing in front of his uncle’s shop he took an extra deep breath and pushing the door open, looked in. His first impulse was to check the latest edition of the Snuggleton Globe tucked away on the bottom shelf, half expecting to see accusing headlines about himself. Reassured, he dropped it back hastily and glanced around.
“Hi, anybody about?”
A head bobbed up behind the centre stand revealing the anxious face of his uncle Albert. Seeing William he looked relieved. “Oh, it’s you, William. Just the man, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. Are you doing anything just now?”
“No,” admitted William guardedly.”Why, what’s up?”
“Not working on that local rag today?”
William debated, wondering how to put it. “Well, not exactly…”
“Good. Then you can help us out on the counter then.” Seeing William hesitate, he added hastily. “It’s only until Hettie can take over.”
Mistaking William’s slow witted response for reluctance, he urged, “I wouldn’t ask if we weren’t so short handed. Can you do it, or can’t you?”
“Of course,” agreed William half heartily, trying to clear his head. “Anything to help out. What do you want me to do?”
Albert put down his order pad hurriedly. “Right, come over here and I’ll give you a quick rundown on the till. I’m expecting a delivery, so I can’t spend too long.” Standing William in front of the till, he explained which keys to press and how it worked in quick staccato fashion, ending with, “Got that? Good, then I’ll leave you to it.” He patted him on the back, “I know it’s all new to you, lad, but do the best you can. Shout if there’s anything you don’t understand.”
William eyed the keyboard doubtfully. “She won’t be too long, will she?”
He was still grappling with the information that his uncle had flung at him, and holding his head whilst trying to concentrate on what he was supposed to do, when the shop door opened with a click and in strolled one of the most beautiful girls that William had ever seen. In an instant, he realised this was the defining moment of his life. Compared with her, all the other girls he had known disappeared in a puff of smoke. This was the real thing. With her blue eyes, blond hair and trim figure, she ticked all the boxes as a tailor-made answer to his dreams. It was uncanny. He was so overcome, he just stood there drinking her in.
Thinking him a little shy, Sally gave him a friendly smile. “Hallo,” she said brightly, “You’re new, aren’t you?” As he tried to stutter a reply, she turned and called out gaily to Albert to cover an awkward pause. “What’s all this I hear about you wanting some help, Mr. Bridge. Anything I can do?”
Albert dropped his order form again, and hurried forward. “Why, it’s Miss Sally – how nice to see you. Did I hear right – you want to help? Are you sure you can spare the time, what with all your teaching up at the school?”
Sally laughed, “I’m sure they won’t miss me if I do a stint now and then on my day off. But I see you already have some help, won’t I be in the way?”
William stood there entranced, then realising she was looking at him questioningly, came to with a start. “No, no, of course not,” he blurted out eagerly, “would we, Uncle?”
Albert beamed. “You just come along whenever you want m’dear. I’ll get Hettie to show you how it all works – she’s busy just now, helping out with the pigs. William’s only just started, otherwise I’m sure he’d be pleased to show you the ropes.”
“I’d be happy to show you what I know, offered William quickly, at last finding his voice. “If you’ll come around the back, I’ll run through it with you…”
“Good, that shouldn’t take long,” laughed his uncle, relieved at his nephew’s change of heart, and amused at his sudden interest. “I’ll carry on with the orders then. Het won’t be long now.”
“Well, perhaps it would be better to wait for Hettie…” Sally temporised, then catching sight of a face peering through the window, she dived behind the counter. “Quick, it’s Clive, I don’t want him to see me…”
Immediately, the shop door opened, and a young man looked in and gave a supercilious glance around. Seeing William, he drawled, “I say, has Miss Frobisher-Courtney been in lately?”
“Who?” enquired William blankly. “Sorry, don’t know the name,” he added truthfully.
“Never mind,” the young man said curtly and the door closed again. As soon as his head passed the window, William bent down, “O.K, I think he’s gone.”
Just as Sally was beginning to get up, William saw the head coming back past the window again, accompanied by a familiar face.
“Wait…,” he whispered urgently. “He’s got Hettie with him.”
The door opened, and Hettie’s voice boomed out as she pulled the protesting figure in behind her, followed by her pig-man accompanied by a strong farmyard smell. “Sally, are you there ? I’ve got a young man asking after you…”
As soon as she released him, Clive jerked his arm free and backed away hurriedly, holding a handkerchief to his nose, “Some other time, Madam,” he gabbled, “I’ve just remembered an urgent appointment – must dash,” and with a last wild look around he turned and bolted.
Hettie looked around in surprise. “What’s the matter with him? Oh, there you are, what are you doing down there?” as Sally rose behind the counter, trying not to giggle.
“I don’t think he’s used to the fresh country air,” said William tactfully.
Albert’s head bobbed up. “Is that you, Het? Blimey, open the door someone, you’ll frighten all our customers away.”
“If