He unlocked and then pushed open the back door and stopped suddenly upon hearing a sound. There was definitely somebody in the shop.
‘Who’s there?’ he called out, switching on the light.
He heard a gasp and, grabbing a nearby hammer from the toolkit next to the tractor, he surged forward, expecting to come face to face with a burglar.
He came to an abrupt halt when he found Amber standing in the middle of the shop wearing only a short bath towel which barely covered the tops of her legs.
She was staring at him wide-eyed and clutching a drawing pad.
He tried to think of something witty to say, but he was too mesmerised by her still damp shoulders in the overhead light, as well as the blush on her cheeks.
‘I thought you were out!’ she moaned, clutching the paper even closer to her chest. Her brown eyes were blinking rapidly in shock.
‘The satellite TV stopped working,’ he replied, trying desperately not to stare at her long bare legs.
He watched as she grabbed the pencil even tighter in her hand.
‘What’s that?’ he added, trying to change the subject by nodding at the pad and then abruptly realising that he was actually gesturing at her chest.
‘It’s nothing,’ she told him. ‘It’s just a silly drawing.’
‘I’d like to see it,’ he said.
But she was violently shaking her head. ‘Forget it. It was just a stupid idea.’
‘Look—’ he began.
But Amber had finally found her feet and was rushing past him. ‘I’d better go,’ she told him as she headed up the stairs to the flat. He heard footsteps and then her bedroom door slam shut.
He wondered what on earth she had been drawing down in the shop. Forget it, she had said. But he was going to have real trouble forgetting how incredible Amber looked in that short towel.
17
As Amber headed downstairs the following morning, she knew she had to try and be brave when seeing Josh face to face.
‘Good morning,’ she managed to say to him, with a cheery smile on her face.
His eyebrows raised at her overly bright tone of voice, but he merely smiled and said, ‘Good morning’ in reply.
There, she told herself. That wasn’t so bad, was it? At least she’d been able to speak.
If only she could do something regarding the absolute mortification she felt about being discovered in only a bath towel in the middle of the shop the previous evening!
What on earth had she been thinking? She couldn’t believe she could have been so stupid. She had been so wrapped up in her ideas for the shop that she hadn’t even contemplated the notion that Josh might come home early.
As it was, she had just about managed to stay hidden whilst he had his breakfast that morning, trying to keep her blushing face out of view.
Thankfully, she could hide her bright red face in one of the many boxes that still needed clearing.
She was hoping they would get a chance to redistribute the stock that was obsolete but found herself distracted by the bewilderment and somewhat bemusement of their intermittent customers.
‘Have I taken a wrong turn somewhere?’ said Stanley, looking around in wide eyed wonder when he came in at his normal time of 9.30 a.m.
Some of the boxes had already been moved out of the way, others were stacked even higher. It might not have looked any better, but it was some kind of progress, thought Amber.
‘We’re having a bit of a clear-out,’ Amber told him.
‘Well, if I hadn’t seen your lovely window designs on the way in, I wouldn’t have known it was the same shop,’ said Stanley, looking a little startled. ‘Then again, it’s certainly a little easier to move around. If you could tell me where I can find the newspapers now.’
‘They’re here in the back,’ called out Josh, bringing out The Times newspaper to hand over to Stanley. ‘I didn’t want to bring them in here because, well…’ His voice tailed off as he waved his arm around.
‘I meant to say to you how the windows look even better at night,’ carried on Stanley, before looking concerned. ‘Dear me, that came out wrong. What I meant to say was that I was going for a walk yesterday evening and I saw a couple of people walking their dogs and looking at your windows. It looked ever so pretty all lit up.’
‘Do you think so?’ said Amber, blushing. ‘How kind you are to say so.’
Stanley picked up his newspaper. ‘It certainly makes Riverside Lane more cheerful in the dark evenings. Good day to you.’
With a nod, Stanley walked his way back through the shop and out of the front door, the bell ringing out as he left.
‘I think you’ve got an admirer,’ said Josh, waggling his eyebrows at her.
‘Rubbish,’ muttered Amber, hurriedly looking away to the door, where the bell had just rung once more.
‘A bell to announce Belle,’ said Josh, who appeared to be in a very good mood that day, thought Amber.
Belle rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before.’
‘And how are your softly-spoken aunt and uncle today?’ asked Josh, still grinning. ‘Still screaming their love for one another?’
‘If the television wasn’t broken before their argument, it certainly is now!’ Belle blew out a sigh. ‘I’m here for a couple of light bulbs,’ she said. ‘Two of the corner lamps were also casualties in last night’s row.’
‘I’ll have a look out the back for you,’ said Josh. ‘I think there was a box somewhere.’
As he disappeared, Belle leant on the counter and stared around. ‘Is it me or does it look even worse than normal in here?’
‘We’ve just started to reorganise it all so it looks a bit of a mess,’ Amber told her.
‘So you’re staying for a while, I heard,’ said Belle, giving her a friendly smile.
Amber nodded.
‘Well, it’ll be nice to have a bit of female company around here,’ said Belle. ‘Come over to the pub one night and we’ll have a chat over one of my famous gin and tonics. It would be nice to have some female company, to be honest.’
‘Thanks,’ said Amber, as Josh returned holding a large box. ‘I’d like that.’
‘That’s an idea,’ he said, putting the box down on the counter. ‘Poor Amber only has Stanley for company around here.’
‘He’s just lonely,’ muttered Amber, blushing. ‘I’m not sure who else he gets to talk to for the rest of the day.’
‘Stanley does like to chat,’ said Belle, nodding in agreement. ‘He comes into the pub once a week on a Wednesday night. I think he struggles for company since his wife died.’
‘That’s so sad,’ said Amber. ‘He only seems to come in at half past nine each morning.’
‘Maybe it’s his routine that keeps him going,’ said Belle, nodding thoughtfully. ‘Mind you, sometimes he’s the only person I really talk to on a Wednesday night as well.’
It struck Amber that perhaps Stanley wasn’t the only lonely person in the village. Even someone as confident as Belle appeared to struggle for companionship.
‘Any ideas which type you want?’ said Josh, rattling the contents of the box.