Chapter 14

Easter started a resurgence in trade and good weather for the next three weeks kept it going. The Jays and Gavin attacked the garden. James pruned the climber on the front while Jenny rejuvenated the window boxes. They bought some more tables-cum-benches for the garden. They renewed the rather tatty umbrellas for the tables. It cost money but both reckoned it was a sensible investment.

Then the weather broke and with it trade dropped off but then picked up again towards the end of May and continued to rise. The signs on the main road paid off and they had an increase in casual lunches. Furthermore they were getting a number of full houses for dinner on Friday and Saturday evenings and an average of forty covers on Thursdays. Sunday lunches were back in favour with people enjoying the garden on fine days. James was run off his feet.

Despite trying Jean had still not found a job. "I'm not computer literate," she said. "I'll have to do a course."

Libby said that was not necessary and that she would teach her. That scheme never got off the ground because they could not afford a computer. However before she could enrol on a course James invited her to become a full-time member of staff at £15,000 a year, becoming deputy cook but still doing all the chores she had already been doing. She leapt at it.

He also took Gavin on as salaried staff. Libby remained a casual but that suited her well. A lot of her day was spent practising her music and, while very willing to help, that took priority. Generally speaking she took on the full nine hours over the weekend but also did some evening bar work on Fridays and Saturdays.

Court's group started rehearsals for Llangollen and became frequent visitors. They were a lively bunch and soon became pub favourites whether just in for a drink or more often a meal.

One evening, Jean paused in the bar to chat with Court. "Ugh!" she said. "I seem to be spending my time at home mending fuses."

"Mending fuses? Don't you just flip the switch on the fuse box?"

Jean looked at him in amazement. "What switch?" she asked. "I have to take the fuse out and rewire it. It's an absolute pain."

"Crikey," said Court. "You're more than twenty years out of date. When did you last have your wiring checked?"

"Never," Jean answered cheerfully.

"Oh crikey!" said Court again. "You could go up in flames. I'll bet your house needs rewiring."

"Probably but I can't afford an electrician to do a major job."

"But your lives are at risk. You really ought to get it done, Jean."

She shrugged.

"The fact that you're having to mend fuses so often indicates that your wiring is faulty unless you've bought something that takes a lot of power."

Jean snorted. "No washing machine, no dishwasher and no electric kettle," she said. "Only the oven and the hob."

"Right," said Court. "From my theatre lighting I know quite a lot about basic electrical wiring. I'm coming round tomorrow to look at your wiring."

"That's a sweet idea, Court, but I can't afford to have anything done about it, whatever you find."

"We'll see. I might be able to do it for you although it'll take time but at least I might spot some immediate danger and be able to put that right for you."

She smiled at him. "Bless you, Court," she said simply.

"Be round at about ten."

She nodded and went back into the kitchen.

Court arrived promptly the following morning. He refused a cup of coffee as being too soon after breakfast but opted for one in hour's time if he was still there. Jean showed him the fuse box and he sucked his teeth. She also showed him which was the tiresome fuse. He quickly identified it as the one for the electric cooker.

Jean left him to it and he pulled out the cooker from against the wall. Within twenty minutes he had found a loose connection with evidence of overheating. He showed Jean.

"What needs to be done?" she asked.

"Just rewire that bit."

"Is that going to be expensive?"

Court smiled at her. "No, Jean. An electrician would probably charge you eighty quid for time mostly but I'll let you off with that cup of coffee when I've done it."

Jean beamed at him. "Is instant OK?"

Court looked solemn. "Not normally," he said, "but seeing it's you, yes."

"Cheeky!"

Court grinned.

At that moment there was the sound of a piano playing a fast and furious piece of music.

"Phew!" said Court. "You don't stint yourself on your music. What system have you got?"

Jean laughed. "Libby," she said.

"Strewth! She's brilliant."

Jean nodded. "She's been plucking up courage all morning with you here to practise."

"If she plays like that I want to come in every morning. What's she playing? I don't think I've ever heard it."

"'Konzertstűcke' by Weber."

"I didn't think I had. It's lovely and do her fingers fly!"

Jean nodded proudly. "She's got a scholarship to the Royal Academy in September."

"I'm not surprised."

There was a sudden pause and then three bars repeated and then again before she was off once more.

"I didn't hear anything wrong," said Court.

"Nor did I but she's a perfectionist and gets very cross when she doesn't play it right."

"I didn't hear any difference."