Chapter 41

A couple of months went by. Ellie had not been offered any more cleaning work which depressed her.

"Don't worry about it, dear," advised Geraldine. "I bet people will want spring cleaning and then when they meet you and see the standard of your work they'll want to keep you."

Ellie looked doubtful.

One Friday her telephone rang. It was Sylvie.

"Ellie, it's Sylvie. I wonder if you can help us."

"Do my best. What's up?"

"You know Diane who works weekends behind the bar?"

"Yes."

"She's rung in sick. We wondered whether you'd be prepared to stand in."

"Yeah, happy to but I haven't got a clue."

"You'll soon learn. If you come round at half past five I can show you where everything is, how to take orders and work the till. And I'll be with you anyway."

"OK. See you at half five then."

"Thanks, Ellie."

Ellie picked it up in no time and enjoyed herself. She enjoyed chatting to the customers while she served them and to listening to the conversations at the bar. She was careful not to interrupt only speaking when she was spoken to.

It was fairly quiet for the first hour and Ellie and Sylvie nattered away happily. At seven the diners began to show up and things became busier. Sylvie took the lead particularly with the meal orders while Ellie served drinks and waited on tables. Although she had memorised the prices of draught beer and cider she had to use the till as an adding machine and to find out the prices of spirits and bottled drinks.

Around eight a stocky weather-beaten man with thinning grey hair came in, said hello to a number of people but sat down alone at one end of the bar, ordered a pint of bitter and read his paper.

Ellie was intrigued. The man seemed to know everyone but did not want to talk to any of them and they left him alone. She asked Sylvie about him.

"Reg Nibthwaite," Sylvie whispered. "Widowed some eighteen months ago and has gone into his shell. Owns Scargill Farm."

Ellie nodded and went off to clear some plates away before taking the table the pudding menu. When she got back behind the bar she noticed that Reg Nibthwaite's glass was empty.

"Ready for a refill?" she asked.

"Thank you."

He had the money ready for her when she brought his glass back. "You're new," he said.

"Standing in for Diane. She's off sick."

"Ah!" He went back to his paper.

At closing time Sylvie thanked Ellie and paid her for five hours' work.

"Hang on," said Ellie. "I only worked four and a half hours. The first half hour was training. You ought to pay yourself for that."

Sylvie refused to take any back. "You gave us your time," she said. "Would you turn out again at short notice like that?"

"You bet. It was fun. Do you think Diane will be back tomorrow?"

"Probably. I doubt she really was sick. I'll bet she just wanted to go out with her boyfriend. She's done it before."

Ellie was not impressed but offered no comment. That clearly was the case because there was no telephone call from Sylvie on Saturday.

There was a repeat a month later though. "Genuine or a 'sickie'?" Ellie asked Sylvie.

"'Sickie' most likely."

Reg Nibthwaite came in again and behaved the same way as last time but he did seem to remember Ellie and gave her a nod and the ghost of a smile. On the Sunday at about quarter past twelve Sylvie rang.

"Ellie, love, Diane hasn't turned up could you possibly... ?"

"Give me five, love."

She walked into the kitchen five minutes later to find Diane there looking very hung over.

"We're fed up with it," Terry was saying. "You ring in sick at monthly intervals as regular as clockwork. You've been late on several occasions. Don't bother to come back. You're sacked."

"You can't do that!"

"Yes, I can and I've just done it. Hop it, Diane."

"I'll tell my dad."

"Do that and if he's any sense he'll put you over his knee."

Diane flounced out.

"Sorry to interrupt, Terry."

Terry grinned. "That means I don't have to go into long explanations. Do you want to take her place?"

"You bet."

"Great! You're on."

Ellie was thrilled. The only day of the week she was not doing something was Thursday and if more cleaning work came up she could still fit it in.

It did not take long for her to be accepted. Her ready smile and her quick wit soon made her friends and she began to pick up on the local gossip. She also found that while she was out and about people would talk to her or at least pass the time of day. She felt accepted and that was a major boost to her confidence having worried about being a Liverpudlian in the depths of the Yorkshire countryside.

It took a good three weeks before Reg Nibthwaite said anything more to her but one evening as she renewed his pint he said, "You're from Liverpool, aren't you?"

"Yeah," she said carelessly.

"It must have been something big to make you leave and come over here."

"Yes," she said, not abruptly but not inviting further enquiry.

"Must have been quite a change."

"Yes."

"I don't mean to be inquisitive but why did you choose to move here?"

She smiled. "I wasn't given much choice. My daughter got engaged to Nick Braithwaite and his mother ordered me to move into the Grimshaw's cottage."

"Ordered?"

Ellie laughed. "Ever had an argument with Geraldine?"

"No."

"Well, when you do you'll soon learn. No. That's unfair of me. She genuinely wanted to help me. I could have turned it down but it was too good to be true. It got me out of the kids' hair and away from him." She could have bitten off her tongue.

Reg Nibthwaite noticed and did not pursue it. "Do you like it here?"

Ellie nodded enthusiastically. "It's a lovely cottage and I'm going to have to learn about gardening but since I got this job I'm getting to know people and they're all so friendly."

He nodded. She left him to serve someone else and that was that for that evening.

She mentioned him to Geraldine on Tuesday.

"Oh, his wife was a honey," replied Geraldine. "I don't think anyone in the village had a bad thing to say about her. Breast cancer. It started years ago and they thought they'd got it beat but it came back and was into her lymph glands before they discovered it so then it was only a matter of time."

Ellie shuddered. "Poor things! Children?"

"Yes, a son, Will. That's another tragedy. He was a nice boy, full of intelligence but he didn't want to be a sheep farmer. I think that disappointed Reg but he didn't stand in his way and Will went off to Newcastle University. He got in with a bad crowd and got hooked on pot. He's in prison at the moment for mugging someone and robbing them to pay for more drugs. He must be due out quite soon."

Ellie shuddered. She had known too many of that sort of young man. His poor father.

"Did his mum know?"

Geraldine nodded. "I don't think it helped her at all."

"I'll bet."

Ellie could see now why Reg kept himself to himself. She said nothing more.

The following Friday Reg remained friendly but still withdrawn. Ellie respected his attitude. On the Saturday he opened up a bit more.

"I expect you've heard about my wife dying," he said.

Ellie nodded but said nothing.

"Set me back a bit that did."

Ellie nodded again. "I'm sure it did," she said sympathetically.

"She was a good woman. Pretty too."

"So I've heard: that she was a very nice person. I'd like to have met her."

Reg nodded.

Ellie went off to deal with other customers and wait at tables. Reg had a third pint that night.

"Must have been something pretty serious to make you leave home."

"Yes."

Reg nodded. If she was not going to volunteer the reason he wasn't going to push her.

"You heard about this new film they say's going to win all the Oscars?"

"'The King's Speech?"