Riverside

The Ship’s renovation has certainly caused quite a stir . . .

WE walked in and couldn’t believe our eyes!” George laughed. “Why?” Susan asked. “What’s Big Jim done to the place?”

George glanced over at Mary, who was busy peeling potatoes at the sink.

“Will you tell her, or shall I?” he said.

Mary turned towards them, wiping her hands dry on a towel.

“We walked in,” she began, “and everyone was expecting all these fancy changes after the robbery and the mess that the burglars had made. But he hadn’t changed a thing. Not one thing.”

Susan looked from her mum to her dad, waiting for George to take up the story.

“He’s put down a new carpet and the place has had a lick of paint,” George continued. “But that’s all. The fireplace is still there – it’s been cleaned up, but it’s still the same. Even Buster was lying in his usual spot under the seats.”

“But I heard he was putting in a jukebox and big screen televisions for the football?” Susan said. George shook his head. “There’s no jukebox. He has put a screen in – one of those that fold up when it’s not being used – but Jim says he’ll only show the big matches.”

“It sounds as if it’s the same old Ship that it always was, then,” Susan replied.

“At least it’s got Wifi now,” Mary continued. “And Sam’s put a suggestion box on the bar for customers to say what theme nights and events they’d like to see going on in the back room.”

“What was that thing that Sam was talking about, putting on a night called ‘Poetry and Pint’ or something?” George asked Mary. “I can’t see that taking off. Poetry?”

He shook his head, dismissing the idea.

Susan stood from the kitchen table and went to put the kettle on.

“Shall I make some coffee before I head out to do the lunchtime shift in the deli?”

“That would be smashing, love.” Mary turned back to the bowl of potatoes. “Ruby should be here soon for lunch. It’s a shame you’ll miss her.”

“If she arrives after I’ve gone to work, I’ll leave her Mother’s Day card on the table, Mum,” Susan said.

Mary glanced out of the kitchen window at their garden. The daffodils were in full bloom and clusters of yellows and orange were dotted around. The strong, green stems and buds of tulips, Mary’s favourite flower, were yet to open.

She felt a smile rise inside her. Ever since Susan had been small, she’d always bought two Mother’s Day cards, one for her and one for Ruby. It was a measure of how close Ruby was to them, and always had been.

****

The mention of Ruby’s name reminded George that he needed to speak to Mary. He chose his moment carefully and waited until Susan nipped upstairs to finish getting ready for work.

Mary was still at the kitchen sink, now peeling carrots and chopping green beans. George stood and quietly closed the kitchen door, ensuring that his words about Susan’s future father-in-law didn’t drift upstairs to Susan’s ears.

Once the door was closed, George moved to stand close to Mary.

“Remember when you told me about Ruby throwing away a bunch of flowers that had been delivered?” he whispered. Mary nodded.

“She got them from Paul. I’d have done the same after what he did to her.”

“The thing is, I don’t think she did get them from Paul,” George went on.

“What on earth do you mean?” Mary asked.

“When I was in the Ship a couple of weeks ago, Mike Brennan said something that got me wondering.”

“What’s Mike got to do with Ruby and Paul?” George shook his head. “Not Ruby and Paul. Just Ruby. Mike told me that he’d taken a fancy to one of the women around here and he’d sent her a bunch of red roses.”

“Well, he could have sent them to anyone,” Mary reminded him, dismissing George’s theory.

“But Mike said that he didn’t put his name on the roses. And he sent them at the same time as Ruby received the roses that she thought were from Paul.”

“Oh!” was all Mary could manage.

George nodded his head. “Exactly,” he said. “You don’t have to be Hercule Poirot to work that one out, do you?”

“Ruby said there was no name on her flowers, either,” Mary said, trying to make sense of it. “Are you sure it was a big bouquet of roses Mike sent?”

“Red roses, Mary. And I’m telling you this, he sent them to Ruby. It’s too much of a coincidence.”

“Oh, my goodness.” Mary was shocked. “You haven’t said anything to Ruby, have you?”

“Of course not,” he replied. “But I wondered if we should let her know.”

Just then the kitchen door swung open and Mary jumped in shock when she caught sight of her friend.

“Look who I’ve just found at the front door,” Susan said as Ruby followed her into the kitchen.

Ruby immediately clocked the guilty look on Mary’s face. She’d known her too long and she’d seen that look before.

“Let Ruby know what?” she asked.

More next week.