Tilly led Amber across the river, but then turned away from the shop and further down Riverside Lane.
‘This used to be the haberdashery,’ she said, as they went past the shop next door to Cranbridge Stores. It was a replica of their own shop and equally as shabby from the outside, albeit with an empty room inside.
‘Beautiful material Mavis used to have in there too,’ said Tilly. ‘So Todd bought off the remaining rolls before they left. That was a long time ago now, of course. But I’ve heard a rumour that the local newspaper’s going to be moving in there.’
‘Really?’ Amber was stunned. Surely they would have been better off in a town somewhere.
‘Well, Frank Conway owns the newspaper, you see. Have you met him yet? He lives next door to me. Anyway, he runs a whole bunch of local papers and apparently they’ve had problems with the offices they’re renting.’ Tilly shrugged. ‘Anyway, it will be nice to have someone next door after the shop lying empty all this time.’
Amber stepped forward to peer inside as there were no curtains or boards on the windows. She was amazed at the space inside. It was huge and now quite obvious to her how impractical and full Cranbridge Stores really was.
She rejoined Tilly and they continued walking down the lane.
‘That was the hairdressers,’ said Tilly as they went past the next shop. ‘Only shut last month. I’ve been desperately hanging on to my perm ever since. And this last one was the bakery,’ she said as they reached the last shop before the mill. ‘It’s been years since I had a proper home-made loaf of bread. Such a shame because the mill is lovely when it gets going. Not that it has for years, of course.’
The old bakery was another shop that appeared to be the same design as the other three before it. Large door in the middle with two huge bay windows on either side. A flat above the shop that narrowed into a pointy roof.
The mill was built in the same warm-coloured stone, but there were a few spokes on the wooden wheel that appeared to be broken.
They stopped and turned around to look at the river as it made its way through the centre of the village. Once more, apart from the birdsong, it was quiet.
‘Where did all the villagers go?’ asked Amber.
Tilly looked at her. ‘You mean, why’s it so quiet?’
Amber nodded.
‘There’s only me and a few other creaky old folks hanging on in there from the original villagers.’ Tilly smiled. ‘So places get sold and new people move in. Most of them commute into the nearby towns, from what I’ve heard. Either by car or the train station which is in the next village. Or they work from home, shut up inside with their broadband. At the weekends, they’re on their mountain bikes or they get into their 4 x 4s and head to Aldwych town, which is ten miles away. They’ve got a cinema, a big shopping centre, sports centre, the lot. It’s a real shame, though.’
‘What about the church?’ asked Amber, looking across the river to the tiny church on the end of the lane opposite.
‘Glenda’s our new vicar,’ said Tilly. ‘Arrived last summer. She’s done a marvellous job with making Sunday morning service a bit more interesting. She’s real fun. But times change and religion has changed along with it.’
‘But people still live here so they must need to shop in the village occasionally,’ said Amber, trying to think of some kind of solution.
‘I don’t know, love,’ said Tilly, blowing out a sigh. ‘It’s hard to describe, but it used to be bustling here. A community. Everyone looked out for each other. People need somewhere central to gather around.’
Amber looked down the river to The Black Swan pub. ‘So, if not the church, what about the pub?’
Tilly laughed. ‘You’ve tasted their food, haven’t you? Mike and Angie don’t exactly give off a welcoming ambience either, wouldn’t you say? And last night was one of their milder rows, trust me.’
‘And yet it is isolating when you work from home,’ said Amber. ‘Or when you just stay indoors all day.’ She spoke from personal experience.
‘It certainly is.’ Tilly gave a whisper of a sigh and Amber realised that perhaps the move into the bungalow wasn’t perhaps a happier solution after all. Tilly gave her a sad smile. ‘Don’t you mind me, love,’ she said, squeezing Amber’s hand. ‘It’ll be nice to have some company whilst you’re here. Cathy and Josh are always so busy that I hardly see anyone these days. So I stick on the television and get knitting, just to keep my hands active.’
They walked across one of the narrow pedestrian bridges to the other side of the river. All the time, Amber was racking her brains, trying to think of how they could bring everyone out and into the fresh air. The village was so pretty. It just needed a central point, other than the river. Somewhere for people to gather and meet. Somewhere like Cranbridge Stores, she mused.
She wished she could help the family and in turn help the shop to flourish before she left. But her skills were limited and she had no idea what could be done to make a difference in the meantime.
7
Josh stood at the front door of the shop, looking inwards and wondering where on earth to begin.
He had intended to start getting some kind of organisation in the shop that day, hoping that Amber’s visit would cause a distraction for his mum. Perhaps even get her out of the shop, for once. She had stopped going anywhere recently, desperate, it appeared, to stay inside. But Cathy had sent Grandma Tilly out with Amber instead, leaving them bonded in the awkward atmosphere together.
‘What’s this?’ His mother’s voice broke into his train of thought.
He turned his head and saw her holding an envelope that he had deliberately left on the counter the previous evening.
‘It’s the paperwork for a contactless payment system,’ Josh told her, trying with all his might not to roll his eyes. ‘I sent off for the details last week.’
‘What do we need that for?’
‘Mum, most people want to pay with a card these days.’ When they bother to come in, he added silently to himself, glancing around the empty shop.
‘People don’t seem to mind the till,’ said his mum, gesturing at the ancient huge till.
In Josh’s eyes it was a monstrosity from a bygone era, totally unsuitable for the modern age.
‘People need to be able to pay with a card,’ he repeated.
‘It makes a lovely sound when the drawer opens,’ his mum carried on, touching the edge. ‘That’s why your dad liked it so much. It was your grandad’s, you know.’
Josh took a deep breath. ‘I know it was Grandad’s. But it doesn’t work for us as well as it could. It’s obsolete.’
‘Just like me, I suppose,’ said his mum, any sign of a good mood quickly disappearing.
He knew why his mum was like she was. She was still desperately trying to preserve his dad’s memory. The trouble was, Josh felt as if he were failing both of his parents each and every day.
He turned away to face the front of the shop. It was the same conversation they had every day. Round and round. And nothing ever changed. The theme of the argument was always the same. He wanted to change the shop. His mum didn’t.