Page 60 of The Second Chance Supper Club

‘Ah, so you’re the lassie in Reggie’s old place. Right you are. Nice to meet yea.’ He doffed his tweed cap. ‘My name’s Kenneth, lived here in Tilldale all my life.’ He offered his aged hand to shake over the counter.

Cath shook it, warmly. ‘Lovely to meet you, too.’

‘So, are yea settling in al-reet?’

‘Yes, thanks. It’s a lovely village. And Dan and Andreas have made me feel very welcome.’

‘Aye, they’re nice enough laddies. Andreas usually makes me a mug of tea, actually …’ The words were pointed and hung between them like a question.

‘Oh, well, if you give me a minute. It’s quiet, so I suppose I could pop the kettle on.’ She wondered if the lads charged him anything, or if it was all part of the service.

‘That’d be grand, lass. Milk, two sugars.’ He nodded and then settled himself down on the seat that was placed near the till, making himself comfortable. And of course, the second she headed out to the back room where the kettle, mugs, and tea and coffee jars were, the jingly bell went, announcing another customer. She managed to flick the kettle’s switch to on and dashed back out.

Two more customers were served. Kenneth seemed to know them both well and sat happily introducing Cath – the new shop helper and owner of Reggie’s old house – to them. The first was Geoff, a boiler-suited plumber (might be a handy contact, she thought) from the Old Barn at Claverham, and the second was Sheila, a friendly middle-aged lady, from ‘the lane’ – which lane she never had a chance to find out. The kettle had to be re-boiled, and she just had time to make and pass Kenneth his mug of tea, when in came a couple of workmen asking for takeaway coffees and steak pies.

The rest of the morning had flown by and the elderly chap was still in situ on his chair, his cup long-drained. ‘Umm, were you actually wanting anything … from the shop, Kenneth?’ Cath prompted.

‘Oh, yes … that’s it, pet, I needed milk and butter, a can of soup … might go for tomato today, and one of those nice creamy yoghurts for my pudding. Is there a strawberry one there, in the fridge?’

Cath fetched his items for him, and popped them into a bag. She decided the mug of tea would be free, feeling that was what Andreas and Dan might well do. And if not, then it could be her treat. She’d pop an extra couple of pounds in the till, just in case.

The old man sat a little longer, even after settling his shopping bill. Ten minutes later, he finally got up to his feet. Popping his cap back on, he said, ‘Grand cup of tea that, lass. Thanks, and very nice to meet yea.’

‘It’s been lovely to meet you too, Kenneth.’

Cath had a feeling that was his social time for the day, his chance to have some company. It made her appreciate what the lads did for everyone here in the village, keeping the rural stores going, and making them a warm and welcoming place. It was so much more than just a shop; it was a community hub. She shut the stores for a half-hour lunch break as instructed, whizzed Shirley around the block, had a quick ham sandwich and a cup of tea (a full one, yippee!) back at home, and was soon back on for the next shift.

The afternoon was more eventful. A steady stream of customers, a lack of knowledge of the whereabouts of some items, plus the odd price label being missing meant things were slightly more stressful, but Cath was managing okay until four separate customers appeared at once. The third of those being a middle-aged woman with a sour face who gave her such a scowl when Cath confirmed that all the loaves of sourdough (such a well-named item, she suddenly thought) had now gone. Cath felt like saying that she should have called in this morning if she was that bothered – but kept that little gem to herself, not wanting to spoil the lads’ ongoing trade. Everyone else she had served, whether or not they needed to wait, was pleasant and chatty, and didn’t mind the short queue, understanding that she was still finding her feet and learning to master the till and card machine.

And that was where things really went wrong. She managed to press an extra zero on the charge machine, so instead of £10.90 she had actually charged a poor old lady (thank goodness it wasn’t sour puss) £109.00. She realised too late, and the transaction had gone through – oops. Cath was in a bit of a fluster, unsure how to put it right, and after trying several menu keys, was at a loss. She apologised profusely, offering to make a note of the error and get the lads to correct it for her on their return. She hoped to goodness that she hadn’t just caused the poor lady to be overdrawn.

Just then the doorbell jingled, and in came Will. ‘Hey, how’s it going? Thought I’d look in for some milk, and see how you’re getting on.’ He’d known about her covering the shop.

‘Hi, well, it’s been busy this aft and, yeah, pretty good … but I’ve a bit of a problem with the card machine.’

The elderly lady was still there, hovering to the side of the counter, packing the last of her things into her shopping bag. ‘The transaction amount went through wrong for this lady,’ she explained, feeling embarrassed at her error.

‘Oh, hello, Irene. All okay?’

‘Well, it would be, pet, but my pension’s just disappeared for the week,’ she answered wryly.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Cath repeated, feeling herself flush. ‘Don’t worry, let’s see if we can put it right.’ Will turned to Cath. ‘Can I take a look? Yep, good stuff, I use the same kind of card machine at the cycle shop. So, what have you charged? And what should it have been?’

Cath showed the shop’s transaction receipt, and explained her error.

‘Okay, I think the easiest way here is to do a full refund, and then re-charge the right amount. Are you okay with that, Irene?’

‘Of course, if it means I get my money back.’

‘You will. Can I have the same card you used, please?’ He efficiently scrolled through the menu options finding the button for the refund, that had totally escaped Cath, and made the corrections, handing Irene her refund receipt and the new one at the right price. ‘There you go, all sorted. That’s your refund of £109 and here’s your payment of £10.90.’

‘Well, that’s a relief. Thank you so much, young man.’

Will gave a quirky smile at that.

‘You’re welcome,’ he replied.

‘Thank you …’ Cath looked to Will with relief. ‘And thanks for your patience,’ she said to Irene.