Page 77 of The Village Shop for Lonely Hearts

Grandma Tilly smiled and said, ‘That’s what we’re here for.’

The customer nodded. ‘Absolutely. I forgot you were here until I saw your new window display. My little one loves seeing the pumpkins. These biscuits will keep us going as well. OK, well, fingers crossed for a dry night for us all.’

‘Absolutely,’ said Josh, smiling at her as he held the door open.

‘Good luck,’ called out Amber.

But after the customer had left, Josh’s smile immediately dropped. ‘The river’s almost at the top now,’ he told her.

Amber rushed to his side and looked out. It was true. The river was now touching almost the top of the riverbank.

‘And it isn’t dark yet,’ she told him with a worried look. ‘What shall we do?’

‘I think we stay open as late as we can,’ he said. ‘Keep the fire burning. Keep warm and dry. Lights on, so people know we’re here. Just in case anyone needs anything. Not that we have any boats or anything.’

‘I agree,’ said Amber. ‘Let’s just hope we have a quiet night.’

‘I’ll make some more tea whilst we wait,’ said Grandma Tilly.

The winds continued to strengthen as the evening drew in. The wooden veranda moaned and creaked as it swayed from side to side.

Amber brought in the two glass hurricane lamps and other decorative items that she had left outside. She figured they’d be safe inside.

After one particularly strong gust of wind caused one of the benches to move, they also brought both benches inside in case they went through the window or hurt someone. Placing them at the back corner of the shop, it made one side of the shop with the tractor almost impassable.

‘But at least we’ve got somewhere to sit,’ said Josh, sitting down gratefully. He looked tired. ‘This blanket was a good idea.’

‘Made with love, as well,’ said Grandma Tilly with a wink.

Amber had brought down some more cushions and blankets from upstairs, thinking that if they were going to be open late at least they’d be comfortable.

There were a few more customers, but nobody was in the mood to stay for too long and chat. They all came in and moaned about the weather. But everyone looked frightened and worried, stressing about whether the river would burst its banks and flood their homes.

‘I feel so helpless,’ said Amber, as yet another customer rushed out with milk and bread. ‘What can we do?’

Josh shrugged his shoulders. ‘Exactly what we are doing. Staying open. Being a safe haven.’

Amber nodded. Despite feeling powerless to help, she did at least feel that there was a sense of community that she hadn’t felt before in Cranbridge.

Another rattle from the porch made her glance outside once more. But it was dark now and the only way they could gauge the river level was to head out with the torch every half hour.

And still the rain kept coming.

The newspaper office was still open next door, even though they were more vulnerable than the shop as they were at a slightly lower level, nearer to the ground.

‘We’ve got some sandbags though,’ Molly told them when she came in later. She stood and warmed her hands by the fire, which was still going strong thanks to Amber’s efforts of putting a log on every half hour. ‘Don’t ask where they got them from.’

Tom came in. ‘I’m starving,’ he said. ‘Have you got anything to eat?’

‘Not going to the pub?’ asked Josh.

‘No time,’ said Tom. ‘The phone lines are red hot.’

‘We could always warm something up in our microwave or oven upstairs,’ said Amber.

Tom browsed the shelves. ‘Not exactly spoilt for choice, are we?’

He had a point, thought Amber. There were some tins of soup and beans but nothing really in the way of a proper meal. At least they still had a few packets of eggs and bread.