‘What? I’ve done my homework too, you know.’ She giggled. ‘Besides, if all else fails I’ll put the green, white and red sections together.’
‘Ha, you two make yourselves laugh.’ Gino feigned insult, before lifting his glass. ‘So it’s a goer?’
‘Yes!’ Mary and Ava lifted their glasses, clinking them against Gino’s to seal the deal.
As Mary went to put her glass down, she hesitated. ‘Do you think we’re being too couply? What about those who haven’t got someone to spend Valentine’s with?’
‘Like Flo,’ Ava suggested.
‘Hmm.’ Gino pondered. ‘We want to include as many people as possible.’
‘I know! We could have a single but happy to mingle table.’ Mary wiggled her eyebrows. ‘We could invite the new Lord—’
‘No!’ Ava and Gino spoke together.
Realising her cheeks had turned inextricably pink, she hastily continued, ‘As you said, this could end up being us three and a pizza, that’s—’
‘Not what Ital—’ Gino attempted to interject.
‘Good point.’ Mary nodded. ‘Let’s see how this one goes first and invite him to the next.’
Gino shook his head. ‘I can’t imagine the new Lord Bramlington coming to The Brown Dog, can you?’
Ava smiled. She found that so much easier to imagine than Henry raking the village for all its worth. She just hoped she was correct, and that she wasn’t letting her judgement of the man be swayed by her memory of the boy she had grown up with.
Chapter Thirteen
With Valentine’s night looming, Ava was taking a more root-through-and-take-what-works approach to sorting donations than she usually would. She’d had to set aside her desire to tackle things systematically and, despite the fact it didn’t sit comfortably with her, it was beginning to pay off. She had managed to create a display in the window that she felt captured Italian chic and style mixed with the spread-some-love theme she hoped would set the tone for the evening. As much as she was on board with getting the Around the World in Eight Gourmets initiative underway, she didn’t want to appear uncaring should anyone —anyone at all —in mourning for the late Lord Bramlington, pass the shop. It was the right thing to do for the community, or at least that’s what she told herself each time she questioned her motives.
Sorting, steaming and pricing enough items for the Italian sale rail was her next task. Shoes, bags and accessories had proven easy to source from the hoards of donations in the back of the shop. But at a time when chunky knits were predominant, Ava was looking for sleek silhouettes to tempt her customers. It was a challenge, but she wanted to do all she could to make the venture a success. Not only for Gino, but the village, and All Critters Great and Small too. The winter was always a quieter time for the rescue centre. But the busy silly season would soon be upon them along with its annual influx of calls to rescue chicks fallen from nests — or rooftops in the case of gulls. Having dealt with nearly six-hundred birds in the previous year, Ava knew, ensuring they had funds in the bank to see them through was a priority.
As it was, Mary’s offer to help at the shop had been thwarted when she’d been called out to a swan that had crash-landed on a damp road. The early morning reminder that such incidentsaccounted for around thirty rescues a year had given Ava added enthusiasm for her task. The rescue centre couldn’t survive on goodwill alone. With the increased publicity she hoped to garner if their new website and social media pages came to fruition, there would inevitably be an increase in awareness of their work, and calls, as well as donations. It was, as her mum would have said, “a skinny fox in a hen house”situation; there’d be gains and losses.
As Ava’s phone vibrated on the side, she glanced at the screen. Seeing she had a message from Mary, she picked it up and read:An impact injury to the beak. Poor thing in shock. Pain relief, antibiotics, no breaks. I’ll see you when I’m cleaned up.
While Ava’s theory for such events followed her mum’s in that she believed the swan had mistaken the road for a lake or river, Mary went with the possibility of turbulence caused by heat variants from different surfaces as the bird had come into land. No matter which was correct, the swan had landed on a surface it hadn’t expected, and blood on white feathers had a way of creating a massacre effect — even if only dripping from a beak injury. The thought caused Ava’s stomach to churn.
The haemophobia that had affected her for as long as she could remember meant the sight, and sometimes the thought, of blood, caused a physical reaction she couldn’t control. It was the reason she was unable to take a more active role in the animal rescue centre. Her domain was fundraising via the shop, initially to help out while also working at a local art gallery, but later, as her mum became ill, on a more permanent basis. Since her mum’s passing, overseeing the finances and all things related to keeping the charity afloat left her little time for anything else. Visiting the rescue and rehabilitation centre itself, housed in a field to the north of Dapplebury, rarely happened through choice.
Ava sent Mary a text, telling her she was pleased the injury was minimal and telling her there was no hurry as she was enjoying the time to be creative.
Having stepped back from the mountain of clothes she had strewn across the sorting table, Ava noticed the time and put the kettle on, in readiness for Flo’s mid-morning cup of tea. But as she turned back to the sorting table, Ava noticed a box on the floor and a Gift Aid label with Ted’s name on it. Her curiosity piqued, she picked it up.
Lifting the box onto the table, Ava picked at the corner of the parcel tape, before pulling it off in a single strip. Prising the interconnecting flaps of cardboard open revealed a layer of scrunched up newspaper depicting recent news. Ava lifted it out and was surprised to see a series of parcels each wrapped in yellowing tissue paper, sealed with tape that, from its colour, suggested it had been in situ for some time.
‘OK Ted, what do we have in here?’ Ava lifted the first of the packages. ‘I’m guessing . . . photo frame. The chunky ornate style.’ From her charity shop experience, Ava was convinced guessing the item inside a wrapped package could be herMastermindsubject. Though she had come across a few surprise items, she was usually right. ‘Bingo! Oh blimey, Ted, where did you get this beauty?’ Ava looked at the gold frame in her hand. It was intricately decorated, and, though she’d have to have it checked to confirm her suspicion, it looked and felt valuable.
Ava whistled. She had seen Ted’s humble cottage on the Bramlington estate. Her annual Christmas card delivery, and collection of holly to decorate Critters’ Cottage, always resulted in them sharing a pre-Christmas tipple, but she had never seen anything so opulent in Ted’s home.
Taking out the rest of the packages, she tugged at the tissue paper on the corner of each, revealing six frames, each of varying size but of a similar style. ‘Wow!’ Reasoning that Ted almostcertainly received them from the Bramlingtons — a Christmas gift, a bonus, or long service gift for his dedication, perhaps — Ava knew she would have to drop them round to the antique dealer to help her decide on a suitable price. They might even need selling at auction, as her mum’s ornaments had, fetching a tidy and unexpected sum.
With the kettle having boiled, and the clothes for the Italian night still to source, Ava knew she should prioritise the jobs in hand. But there was no point having valuable items sitting in the back of the shop. Not when there were injured swans in need of treatment, Quill Smith and friends to rehabilitate and return to the wild, as well as the numerous other casualties the charity currently had in its care.
Curious as to the value of the frames, Ava carefully stacked them up. It made sense to pass them on for assessment as soon as possible. She could nip next door, leave them in the care of the antique dealer and return to her other chores. Carrying them through the narrow corridor to the front of the shop, Ava jumped as Flo rang the bell for assistance, and the frames almost slipped from her grasp. Her heart thudding, she took stock, gathering herself as she dared to open her eyes and check she still had hold of all six packages.Phew!Continuing on her way through the shop, Ava promised Flo her tea would just be a moment and reminded herself to put up the posters she had worked on. She also knew she must thank Ted for his very generous donation.
Chapter Fourteen
Henry walked Granger around the central block of shops in the village, the dog’s paws padding along the damp pavement. He knew he needed the air and the walk more than the dog, who had been traversing the grounds of Dapplebury House all day. But Henry had grown fond of having Granger at his side; the dog provided welcome company, at a time when he felt more alone than he could ever recall before.
