Читать книгу The Wish - Alex Brown - Страница 9

Jude Darling tucked Lulu, her grumpy old caramel-coloured cockapoo, under her arm, and inhaled the crisp, spring air infused with a glorious aroma of fresh paint. Smiling, she stared at the black timber-framed, white wattle-walled shop with tiny mullioned windows in the middle of Tindledale High Street. Home. After several years of travelling around the world, before settling in Los Angeles for a while, it now felt surreal – but at the same time ever so good – to be back.

‘So what do you think?’ Tony Darling asked. Jude turned, and with her free arm she gave her dad an enormous hug.

‘I love it, Dad. Really I do.’ She stood back on the pavement, her rumpus of red curls bouncing on her shoulders as she beamed up at the swirly gold lettering above the window. ‘Ooh, it’s perfect! Darling Antiques & Interiors. Has a certain ring to it, don’t you think?’

‘It sure does! Though sorry again for the silly surname you’ve been lumbered with … it’s the family curse.’ He rolled his eyes and shrugged before going to give Lulu’s curly head a stroke, but thought better of it when she growled and lifted her nose up into the air. ‘Well, excuse me,’ he laughed.

‘Sorry. She’s still sulking over this wet weather – you know what a diva she is; looking down her nose at these muddy puddles everywhere after the heat of the streets in Los Angeles.’ Jude adjusted Lulu’s little tartan coat. ‘And don’t be daft! It’s a brilliant surname. It’s our family’s name, and I love it, always have, you know that …’ she replied, nodding her head as if to punctuate the point.

‘Hmm, if you say so. But three guesses who’s doing the Mr Darling’s Magic Show gig again this year for the kids at the May Fair?’ Tony sighed.

‘Ahh, Dad, you love it really. You’re the real deal, a proper magic man … especially now you’re turning into a silver fox. Very distinguished for when you don the velvet Willy Wonka suit and whip a rabbit out of a top hat. And you’ll have a full white beard and barnet in no time, the way you’re going!’ Jude laughed, giving his salt-and-pepper hair a quick ruffle, and remembering as a child how she loved having a magician for a dad, or the ‘Magic Man’ as her school friends used to call him. And she never tired of telling new people she met along the way that her dad was a magician. That he could do proper tricks, like make a white dove fly out of her ear. Of course, years later she had worked out that it was all an illusion. But back then, when everyone in Tindledale and the surrounding villages loved Mr Darling’s Magic Show, it had made her feel special. Proud and safe … and God knows she had needed that after her mum had died. Nine years old she had been when she’d got home from school one day and found her lovely mummy, Sarah, slumped over the sofa, lifeless after suffering a fatal asthma attack. And that was how it became just the two of them, Tony and Jude Darling. A unit. An unstoppable team.

Tony had been a brilliant dad. Still was. And that was why Jude had come back home to Tindledale, after her wanderlust had petered out, much like her relationship with Scott, the American businessman she had dated for a year or so before he’d announced that he’d ‘rather not be exclusive any longer’. Fair enough. Jude hadn’t been that into him in any case; plus she had come to the conclusion that what had suited her in her twenties and thirties – fun with no ties – didn’t really cut it any more. No. But whilst she had never really been the ‘settling down’ type, she reckoned she’d be open now to the possibility of a proper committed relationship, with a mature man who would put the effort in. Not an immature guy clinging on to his youth, who only wanted to hook up when he was in town.

Plus Dad wasn’t getting any younger – not that sixty was old or anything these days, but still … there were never any guarantees in life, Jude knew that only too well, with losing her mum at such a young age. And she’d had enough of being away from her home, the place where she had grown up, and the place she loved, Tindledale. She had always planned on coming back here, but the urge to travel, as if to find out who she really was, had always been a driving factor. Growing up without her mum had been difficult at times, especially during her teenage years, when she had yearned to find a connection, a tangible way to know all about her mother, Sarah. To find out who she really was. The dreams and aspirations that were cruelly snatched from her at such a young age. Of course, Jude had never forgotten her mum, and the memories she had of their time together. But having been so young when it happened meant that the hazy snippets of events, feelings, even the scent of her mum’s favourite perfume on a treasured scarf had faded. So when Jude was in her twenties, and after a string of disastrous relationships had disillusioned her, she knew it was time to go for it. She travelled to LA to meet Maggie, her mum’s cousin, who lived there.

Maggie even looked like Sarah, and had similar mannerisms, but, better still, she remembered vividly growing up with Jude’s mum; the silly antics they got up to, the daft things Sarah had said and done. Maggie was able to give Jude a real insight into who Sarah really was. And another wonderful thing for Jude: Maggie was able to share how Sarah had felt about her only child. The love she had felt for Jude, and everything she had hoped she would grow up to be. This had given Jude a tremendous sense of peace, that tangible connection she had yearned for. To feel an affinity with her mum and to know she would have been proud of her. And Jude had wanted to harness that affinity and never let it go, so she had stayed in LA with Maggie, who had moved into Sarah’s maternal role with ease, giving Jude a comfort that she hadn’t had for so long. And, in doing so, Jude had also felt close to her mum.

LA had become Jude’s base, her haven if you like, and after travelling to as many enchanting places as she could afford to on her modest savings, she had then started the antiques and interiors business in order to properly pay her way. And this, in turn, plus loads of hard work, had taken her from Maggie’s little spare room in the condo to a plush, mink-colour-carpeted studio in one of LA’s most exclusive business districts.

It had been a wrench to leave that studio behind, but Jude had missed her family here too – Dad (though he’d come out to visit every year for at least four weeks), plus the three rambunctious golden retrievers called Betty, Bob and Barney that Lulu had hated on sight. But then Lulu was used to being the centre of attention, and certainly wasn’t going to share Jude’s affections with any other dogs, so had taken to growling if Jude so much as glanced at one of the retrievers. A properly pampered pooch, Lulu had been a welcome cute-puppy gift to Jude from one of her grateful LA clients, who bred pedigree cockapoos. Small enough to travel with Jude on her very own pet passport, Lulu was used to first-class treatment at all times, often perched, regally, on her lap during flights, or nestled inside a designer pet carrier, as was the norm in LA. It was no surprise, really, that Lulu was finding it tricky to acclimatise to her more modest living arrangements – with her bed in the corner of the kitchen alongside the other dogs.

Jude had also missed her best friend, Chrissie. She had missed her so much. And Chrissie really needed her right now. Jude still couldn’t get her head around the disaster that was her best friend’s marriage. Last time she had been home, about four years ago, Chrissie, Sam and Holly had been doing OK – they had been a happy family unit. And Chrissie and Sam had always been one of those couples you imagined were set to be together for ever. Like butter and crumpets. The two just go. And it was unthinkable to have one without the other. But somehow that had happened. And Jude was horrified at the situation because, if Chrissie and Sam’s relationship could fall apart, then what hope was there for everyone else still searching for their perfect match? That’s how solid they were, or had been. It was shocking. More so, as Jude hadn’t realised just how bad things had become – Chrissie had always had a tendency to batten down the hatches, make out that she was coping, that everything was fine, that she had it all under control, even when she didn’t; that was her way. But Chrissie really had glossed over the startling truth about the state of her marriage during the numerous phone calls and Skype calls they’d had together all the time Jude had been in LA. And her goddaughter, Holly, she needed Jude too. The whole family – Chrissie, Holly and Sam – had been having a tough time this last couple of years or so, and Jude wanted to do all that she could to support Chrissie, who was more like a sister than a best friend. It was the right thing to do. Chrissie had been there for Jude all those years ago when her mum had died, as well as ever since … and so now it was Jude’s turn to be here, close by, for her.

‘And I love you too,’ Tony smirked, shaking his head some more and cutting into Jude’s thoughts. ‘But less of the “old man” jokes please … if you really are planning on staying around for good.’

‘Yep, this is me, back home in Tindledale for good …’

‘Well, I sure hope so, love, because it’s not safe out there any more. Not with all the horrors going on around the world. You can’t switch the telly on these days without seeing some other awful incident unfold. No, it’s no good you gallivanting around the globe picking up all that junk …’ He gestured inside the shop, which was crammed full of unique artefacts from far-flung places.

‘Oh Dad, it’s not junk! Come on, let’s take a look inside.’ She looped her free arm through Tony’s and practically skipped him inside, she was so excited.

Inside, and after placing Lulu carefully on the rug, Jude wandered around, oohing and ahhing as she took in the gorgeous Farrow & Ball painted walls.

‘And, see, I was right about this one, Elephant’s Breath …’ She darted towards the main wall that ran the length of the back of the shop, her red curls flaring out behind her, and ran a hand lovingly over the smooth wall, ‘and with this one too, Calamine. The perfect match, don’t you think?’ She dashed over to the adjacent wall to stroke that surface too. Tony couldn’t help himself, and his sun-baked, brown crinkly face broke into a big smile, only just managing to stop short of actually laughing at the absurdity of the paint names. He was old school, and these new, fancy, fandangled colours bemused him.

‘Yep. Of course … it looks nice,’ he shrugged, before gathering up his brushes and tools to tidy away into his white work van parked outside the window.

‘Nice?’ Jude pretended to be put out. ‘Just nice, Dad. Oh, come on … you’ve done a brilliant job, used the exact hues that I asked for, and it looks amazing.’

‘Well, it’s grey and pink at the end of the day, love.’ And after placing his tool bag down on a nearby chair, he held out his hands, palms up, and laughed, ‘but if you want the flash stuff that costs an arm and a leg and has to be specially ordered off the internet, when the cheap stuff from the builders’ merchants down on the industrial estate would have done just as good a job, then who am I to argue?’

‘But it has to be right, Dad. It’s important to create the right ambience.’ Jude folded her arms and chewed the inside of her cheek as she scanned the shop once more. She’d put her heart and soul into this new venture, not to mention a tidy sum of money that she had saved up over the years for this exact moment. ‘And look …’ She carefully picked up an exquisite, multi-coloured glass Art Deco lamp. ‘This is an expensive antique. It was my job to scour the globe for special items for my clients. They’re very discerning you know.’ Jude gave her dad a playful punch on the arm.

‘Yeah, well they can “discern” or whatever with someone new now. I’m not letting you leave Tindledale again.’

‘There’s no chance of that. My “gallivanting” days, as you say,’ Jude paused to do silly quote signs in front of her dad, trying not to smile when he pulled a face and batted her away, ‘are well and truly over. I’ve gathered enough stock of my own now for the shop, and once the soft furnishings arrive in the next day or so for the interiors section, I’ll be having a grand opening.’

A short silence followed as father and daughter exchanged nods, with intermittent glances around the tiny but perfectly formed shop. ‘Well, maybe a not so grand opening,’ Jude shrugged and grinned gamely, knowing this wasn’t London’s Mayfair. No, Tindledale was a tiny village in the middle of nowhere, ‘but certainly a few friends round for an Aperol spritz or a flute of pink Prosecco and a scrumptious fondant fancy or three from Kitty’s café over there, that’s for sure.’

Jude pointed across the street towards The Spotted Pig Café & Tearoom, looking all cosy on the corner with the glow from the pretty little tea lights sparkling in the windows and the floral bunting buffeting in the breeze. On her return to Tindledale, she had been delighted to see the café still here, having fond memories of visiting after school with Chrissie to drink big mugs of hot chocolate and feast on slabs of Battenberg cake. This was back in the day, and long before Kitty took over; Kitty now lived with her daughter Teddie and boyfriend Mack in the adjoining cottage. So Jude had made a beeline across the road to introduce herself and see if the café had changed very much during her time away. She was delighted to see that it hadn’t.

Jude waved when Mack pulled up outside in his car and opened the boot to let two gorgeous dogs jump out – a beautiful, glossy black one-eyed Labrador and a lovely little cocker spaniel, the spitting image of that dog in The Lady and the Tramp film. Kitty’s daughter, Teddie, came bouncing out of the café to greet them, closely followed by Kitty, who took the dogs by their leads so that Mack could swing Teddie up into his arms for an enormous cuddle. Ahh, she smiled at the wonderful sight, a part of her musing on how nice it might be to have a family of her own.

Tindledale really was a wonderful little village, and she was proud to have grown up in such a picturesque place, but she was under no illusion that it might take the villagers a little while to warm to the idea of paying a fair price for an exquisite antique. They could be very provincial and quite unworldly at times, but more than made up for this with their warmth and generosity. She’d had a number of cards welcoming her back home and wishing her luck with her new venture – Mrs Pocket, parish council stalwart and Jude’s old headteacher at the village school years ago, had been the first to call in. Then Mrs Cherry, aka Brown Owl, from the 1st Tindledale pack that Jude had been a part of as a child, and then lovely Molly from the butcher’s a few doors along had popped in with one of her famous steak and ale pies. And Jude knew it would take time for things to really take off, but she had built up enough clients around the world to take care of the antiques side of the business in any case – she’d ship the items to them. And that’s why she had opted for soft furnishings too – cushions, curtains, door stops, blankets, throws, quilts, and some heavenly-scented candles and trinkets, so there would be something for everyone’s budget.

‘Good. And you can stick me down for a Bakewell tart and a pint of beer from the Duck and Puddle pub,’ Tony laughed. ‘None of this pink fizz for me at the party. Call it payment for the decorating.’ He placed his free arm around his daughter’s shoulders and pulled her in for a solid cuddle.

‘You’re on. But I’ll still be paying you the proper rate for all the work you’ve done, Dad. I have the money,’ Jude grinned, giving her dad a nudge in the side. ‘I’m not fifteen any more and on the scrounge.’

‘More’s the pity. Are you sure you’re going to be forty-one on your next birthday?’ Tony lifted his eyebrows. ‘Makes me feel properly old.’

‘Awww, well … at least you’ll have me here now to make your cocoa and tuck your tartan blanket in around your old weary knees, eh Dad?’ Jude laughed.

‘Oi, wotchit, cheeky! I’m not that old.’

‘Ahh, you know I’m only joking – sixty is the new forty these days,’ Jude laughed as Tony pulled a roll-up from behind his ear and popped it into the side of his mouth.

‘Come on; let’s go to that new Indian restaurant over by the village green. You can buy me a Balti with all the trimmings!’