At some point he knew he was going to have to be brave and tell his mum that he needed to leave for his own sanity. He just hadn’t the heart to tell her yet.
And so nothing changed except his growing resentment at being stuck in the village.
The truth was that, deep down, he no longer cared about the shop. It was his prison, his captor and he just wanted to move on. And the guilt about his true feelings made him even more miserable.
Amber was the first to join him downstairs before dinner. She was looking uncomfortable, tugging at the blue jumper which he recognised as his mum’s. He felt bad for her that she didn’t even have her own clothes to wear at the moment.
What a come down Cranbridge must be after the glamour of New York, he thought. He didn’t blame her for looking a little overwhelmed at the mess inside Cranbridge Stores. It was all in stark contrast to the glitzy department stores on the streets of Manhattan.
Once they had all gathered together, the family walked around the corner of the shop and across Riverside Lane. Josh glanced down the road, but there was nobody there. The boarded-up shops along the lane just confirmed that nobody had a reason to visit what was the heart of the village any more.
Apart from the shop, the only other business that was open was The Black Swan pub on the other side of the narrow bridge across the river and even that had seen better days.
‘It’s a cheerful atmosphere at any rate,’ he heard his mum say to Amber as they headed through the front door of the pub.
Josh thought of describing the pub with many words, but cheerful probably wasn’t at the foremost in his mind. The Black Swan was pretty run-down these days. It hadn’t been updated for the many years since it had been his father’s local pub, but at least the oak beams and fireplaces kept it on the rustic side of dilapidated.
Like everything else in the village, it wasn’t particularly busy. Only a handful of regulars went in a couple of evenings a week, Josh included. It had become his sanctuary, where he could escape the claustrophobic atmosphere in the shop and flat.
When he had moved into the flat after his father’s funeral, he had assumed it would only be for a few short weeks. Two years later and he was still there.
Mick, the mouthy landlord, didn’t seem to mind that Josh could nurse a single pint of beer for a whole evening. It was all he could afford and the last thing he wanted to do was start relying on alcohol too much in times of stress. He had seen what the similar addiction had almost cost his father in terms of his health. Or at least that was what his dad had told him when he had described his drunken life touring around the world in a rock band.
They found a table quite easily in the relatively empty pub, despite the lively darts competition going on. Then Josh headed up to the bar to order the drinks.
‘Good evening,’ said Mick with a nod. ‘I see you’ve got the family with you tonight.’
Mick was a pleasant enough man with a slightly rumpled face who was always friendly to everyone apart from his own wife, with whom he suffered a hate-hate relationship.
‘And who else is that over there?’ asked Mick, squinting over at the table.
‘Mum’s goddaughter,’ Josh told him.
‘Well, I can’t remember the last time we had a pretty lady in here,’ said Mick, still staring at Amber over Josh’s shoulder.
‘Perhaps it’s the lack of feminine ambience that’s putting them off,’ drawled Josh.
The swearing and shouting of the darts match was increasing by the second.
‘Yeah, probably,’ said Mick. But he didn’t seem to notice or care about the noise.
Unlike his wife, Angie, who appeared suddenly from behind the bar. She rolled her eyes at her husband before turning to shout across the bar. ‘Oy! You lot! Shut it, yeah? We’ve got ladies in here.’
‘In here?’ said one the darts players, looking all around him and then shocked at seeing Cathy, Grandma Tilly and Amber sitting in the corner.
Tilly beamed and waved at the gentlemen whilst Amber shuffled in her seat, obviously uncomfortable at the attention.
‘Nice to the see the family in with you tonight,’ said Angie, her wide smile emphasised by the bright pink lipstick she wore.
Everything about Angie was bright. From her peroxide-bleached big hair, to her pink jumper, blue miniskirt and bright cerise long nails, she was loud and brash.
‘Right, I’m going to watch EastEnders,’ said Angie, pouring herself out a large gin and tonic.
‘I wanted to watch the football,’ said Mick, becoming cross.
‘Tough,’ said Angie, laughing almost manically.
‘Now wait a minute,’ began Mick, following his wife out the back.
The shouting could still be heard by everyone in the pub.
At the end of the bar, their niece, Belle, rolled her eyes and sighed. In contrast to her noisy and quarrelsome aunt and uncle, Belle was always smiling and friendly. That evening, her long black hair was tied back in a ponytail and she was dressed in jeans and a white shirt.
‘Have you got a menu?’ Josh asked her.
Belle looked shocked. ‘A menu?’
‘Mum fancied a nice meal out,’ Josh told her.
Belle was still looking worried. ‘Then I think she’s come to the wrong place.’
She had a point. The only food they ever served in the pub was microwaved and even that wasn’t particularly pleasant. But Cranbridge was hardly bursting with restaurants. In fact, The Black Swan was the only place to eat without having to get in the car to leave the village.
‘It was mum’s idea,’ said Josh.
Belle blew out a sigh. ‘Let me check what’s in the freezer.’
As Belle disappeared into the kitchen, Josh looked around. He shouldn’t like this grubby pub. The décor was from the 1970s. The food was probably cooked in the 1990s. It was worn and shabby and didn’t smell great. And yet he found The Black Swan a comfort. It was a mostly masculine atmosphere which he craved, missing his brother and dad’s company so much.
Belle was friendly, despite her aunt and uncle severely lacking in customer service, but there had never been any kind of connection between them, despite her being a similar age to him. He had always had a hunch that she had been attracted to Pete rather than him. So they remained only friends.
His own love life had been put on hold when he had moved to Cranbridge two years previously. Not that he felt he was missing much. He had enjoyed a string of dates over the years but nobody had ever come close to owning his heart. He knew that love existed. He had seen it between his parents over the many years of their happy marriage. He just wasn’t sure he would ever be so lucky.
He took a quick sip from the pint of beer that had been placed in front of him and glanced around the pub. Aside from the darts competition and his family, the only other customer in the pub was Del the coach driver. Or Dodgy Del as everyone referred to him.
Del had a good heart and would always manage to find anything that anyone needed, especially at short notice. But most villagers had learnt over the years that it was best to never ask where anything connected to Del came from in the first place.
‘All right?’ said Del as a way of greeting, between sips from his pint of cider. ‘So who’s that little beauty you’ve brought in?’ he asked, giving a wink and smile in Amber’s direction.