Winter Magic in Port Berry (Port Berry #3)

Chapter 2

Ginny

Three grocery shops later and Ginny still hadn’t found the brand of strawberry jam her mother liked. It was time to give up, else she’d be late for work. She had given her most trusted member of staff, Annie, a key and the alarm code for the café so she could open up on days Ginny was running late. Today was definitely one of those days. Annie didn’t mind, but Ginny always did. She hated being out of routine. Weighing up her options, she popped in one last convenience store to see if they had what she needed. Nope!

Ginny felt deflated even before she crossed the threshold of her mum’s house.

‘Did you get Birdy’s jam?’

Ginny wrinkled her nose at her mother’s care worker. ‘I swear to high heavens, Suzanne, I blimming well tried. I told old Smitty he needs to get it back in stock, but he said he’s been trying. I did consider making my own, but who makes strawberry jam in October?’ She plopped the shopping bags on the kitchen table and huffed.

‘Is that Ginny?’ yelled a rough voice from the living room.

‘Yes, Mum.’

‘Did you get my jam?’

Ginny’s shoulders flopped. She entered her mother’s space, already knowing the reception she would get regardless of right or wrong conserves. ‘Smitty said it’s still not in stock.’

‘Bet you didn’t tell him it was for me,’ she grumbled, slowly turning the page of her magazine.

‘He knows.’

‘Did you use my real name or nickname?’

Ginny silently sighed. ‘He knows you’re Yvonne and Birdy. He’s known you for years. It makes no difference to his stock.’

‘I’ll have to call Lee. See if he can send me some.’ She scowled at Ginny. ‘Your brother works hard, you know. I shouldn’t have to bother him with this stuff. It’s not as if he lives up the road.’

‘Speaking of work, I have to—’ A black kitten rubbed along Ginny’s ankle, catching her attention. ‘There’s a cat in here.’

‘Well done, Sherlock. At least your eyes work. Shame they’re not blue like Lee’s. Hazel is such a boring colour, don’t you think?’ Birdy started making kissing noises, but the kitten seemed to prefer Ginny’s leg.

‘Who does it belong to, Mum?’

‘It’s mine, isn’t it? Stupid.’

Ginny clenched her teeth, determined not to bite back. It wasn’t as though she wasn’t used to the name calling. She scooped up the skinny creature, then pulled back her face from its fishy breath. ‘Where did it come from?’

‘It’s not an it. Her name is Lucky, and I bought her from Mary up the road. Her cat had kittens.’

‘You can’t have a cat. You’re going in a home soon.’

Birdy slammed her magazine shut so hard, poor Lucky jumped and tried to wriggle further into Ginny’s khaki dungarees. ‘Why don’t you come round here more often with your cheery statements?’ Her brow creased. ‘You can’t wait to lock me away, can you?’

The last thing Ginny wanted was another argument about the care home. ‘I’m not locking you away,’ she said gently, ignoring the kitten nuzzling her earlobe.

‘You’ve always hated me,’ snapped Birdy.

That’s rich!

‘It’s got nothing to do with me, Mum. You need help getting in and out of bed now.’

‘I’ve got Suzanne. She’s a good girl. I bet she wouldn’t toss her mother out with the rubbish.’

‘She can’t do everything for you anymore. You need full-time care.’

Birdy flicked the magazine to the carpet. ‘Then why can’t you move in and look after me? You’re only thirty-four. Got lots of strength left in you.’

‘I have a full-time job running the café.’

‘So, give it up.’

‘I can’t afford to do that.’

Birdy huffed. ‘Of course you can. I know you’re loaded.’

Ginny almost choked on her laugh. ‘I’m not loaded.’

‘Oh please. This is me you’re talking to. I know how much that loser left you.’

Ginny hated it when her mum called her dad names, but she bit her lip, not wanting to stoke the fire.

Birdy wasn’t done. ‘Didn’t leave me anything when he snuffed it, did he? Oh no. Just you. Didn’t even care about Lee.’

‘He didn’t know Lee. Lee had his own dad. Anyway, he didn’t know me either. He left when I was two.’

‘Don’t tell me about my own life. I was the one who lived it, not you. Left me alone with a nipper. Good thing Lee’s dad did come along. He was so lovely.’ She pulled a peach hanky from her cardigan pocket and sniffled. ‘Look, you’ve made me cry now. Pleased with yourself? You know how much I loved him.’

Oh, she knew. Heard it all her life. Lee’s dad this, and Lee’s dad that.

‘It’s your fault your brother’s dad left me.’ Birdy scrunched her handkerchief. ‘Didn’t want someone else’s kid, did he? Couldn’t put up with you. But did I lock you away somewhere so I could live a carefree life? No, I bloody well didn’t. You’ve always been selfish, just like your old man.’

Her mother’s words failed to sting anymore. She’d heard them so often, she knew each line off by heart.

‘Even when your dad died and left you everything he had, you still didn’t bother giving anything to me, and I’m the one who raised your sorry arse. See what I mean about you.’ She dramatically raised a hand to her brow. ‘Oh, Ginny, why couldn’t you just be different? You drain me, you know that. I gave up everything for you.’

‘I need to get to work,’ Ginny said softly, swallowing hard.

‘You haven’t even made my breakfast yet.’

‘Suzanne’s making it right now.’

‘Yeah, with horrible jam, no doubt. Oh, well, never mind your poor old mum, as long as your customers get a bit of decent grub.’

Ginny placed Lucky back on the carpet. ‘You’ll have to give her back to Mary.’

‘Mind your own business.’

‘How old is she anyway? She looks too young to be away from her mum.’

‘You still here?’

Ginny scrunched her tired eyes, then turned to leave.

‘Where you going now?’ bellowed Birdy, causing Lucky to scoot under the sofa.

‘I’m just going to talk to Suzanne a minute, then I’m off to work.’

‘Talk about me, no doubt. Horrible cow. Stab me in the back soon as I turn, wouldn’t you? Where’s my Lee? I want to ring him. Pass me the phone. At least he cares about me.’

Yeah, that’s why he moved to Yorkshire and never calls you.

‘It’s too early to ring him, Mum. He works late so won’t be awake yet, remember?’

Birdy lowered her head. ‘He’s a good boy,’ she mumbled, seemingly talking to herself.

‘I’ll see you later, Mum.’

There came no reply.

Ginny rested her head on the doorframe as soon as she left the living room and took a calming breath.

Suzanne waved her towards the kitchen. ‘What was that all about? I heard raised voices.’

‘Oh, just Mum feeling irritated because she hasn’t got her favourite jam for brekkie. She’ll be okay in a bit.’

Suzanne didn’t look convinced, and Ginny wasn’t surprised, especially if the carer heard some of the names that were spat out. ‘I like your head scarf choice today, Gin.’

Ginny absentmindedly touched the polka dot red-and-white material covering her dark bobbed hair.

‘I always like your 1940s get-up. You always look great.’ Suzanne glanced at her own black pumps. ‘I only wear these for work. I might invest in one of those tea dresses you wear though. Next summer probably. A bit too nippy now. Do you think forty is too old for a tea dress?’

‘No. Wear what you want at any age, chick. I’ll point you in the direction of some online shops.’

‘Lovely. Now, shouldn’t you be getting a wriggle on?’

‘I wanted to talk to you about what happens to this house once a place becomes available in a care home.’

Suzanne shook her head. ‘Don’t worry about that, lovely. The council will sort it. Did you want to move back in?’

I’d rather eat my eyeballs.

‘No. I’m happy in my house.’

‘Don’t blame you. These are nice and that, but I’d much rather have one of those pastel harbour houses up Berry Hill. You’re lucky to have one.’

Ginny had no memory of her dad, but she certainly had a lot to thank him for. Had he not left her his money seven years ago, she wouldn’t have been able to buy her home or café, which came with a flat above that she rented out.

‘I need to get off. I’ll be back after work. Oh, and please give the cat back to Mary, will you?’

Suzanne saw her to the door and waved her off.

Ginny sat in her old army jeep and stared out the windscreen for a while before starting the engine. There were moments when she liked to pretend she was only alone in the world because her man was in the military during the Second World War. He’d return soon, and they would live happily ever after just like in the old war films she would watch as a girl. But until then, she had to knuckle down and simply get on with things like the women in the 1940s, her heroes. All that hardship, and yet they carried on. They had always been such an inspiration.

She parked up outside her pastel-blue home and quickly nipped indoors to pick up a cardboard box.

Harbour Light Café was just along Harbour End Road, at the bottom of her street, so it didn’t take long for her to walk to work.

Annie and some other staff were already serving customers, so Ginny set about opening her box to place the fake pumpkins it held along the windows.

There. At least now it looked ready for the season, even if the décor clashed a tad with the nautical theme of the place.

Flopping back in a chair, Ginny stared at the fishing net adorning the ceiling directly above her. It could do with a dusting. Perhaps after work.

Tears blurred her vision for a moment, as she allowed a few seconds of self-pity to take control. Sniffing, she straightened and pulled herself together. She wasn’t alone, not really. She had the most wonderful group of friends she could call on anytime, but she needed to crack on, so there wasn’t time to feel deflated or cry on anyone’s shoulder.

Ginny sprinted to the toilet, coated her lips with dark-red lippy, adjusted her head scarf, blew the mirror a kiss, then headed back to the front door.

Robson jogged by, stopping to wave.

Ginny stepped onto the pavement, gulped down the salty air blowing over from the sea across the road, and gave her friend a hefty pat on the back; he looked too sweaty to hug.

Robson jolted forward and laughed. ‘For someone so petite, you’ve sure got some whack.’

‘Sorry. Lots of arm muscles used in running a café, you know.’

‘If you took on my pub, you’d have arms like Popeye.’

Ginny poked his biceps. ‘So where are yours then, chick?’

‘Oi, cheek. I am of the athletic build.’

‘Oh, is that what it’s called?’

‘Here I am, out enjoying the early morning, and I get insulted by my best mate.’

Ginny nudged him. ‘You want a bacon sandwich?’

Robson’s piercing blue eyes sparkled as he patted his toned stomach. ‘Ooh, don’t tempt me.’

Ginny glanced down the road. ‘I don’t know why you get up so early when the Jolly Pirate doesn’t open till eleven.’

‘I do have a whole day to fit in before that time. Anyway, I like to keep fit. You should try it.’

‘I hardly sit down, thank you very much. I’ve got Hub duty today as well.’

‘What time?’

‘When I close at four.’

‘You still thinking about letting Samuel use the café as a food bank after closing time?’

Ginny shrugged. ‘The Happy to Help Hub has the food bank. He just wants to offer free dinners to those in need. But honestly, Rob, I’ve got too much on at the moment.’

‘How is your mum?’

Never one to tell what her mother was really like, she simply smiled politely. ‘Doing good. We should get word on a care home soon.’

‘That’ll be a weight off.’

Ginny nodded, then gestured towards the Jolly Pirate pub. ‘I’ll pop by later for dinner. Your chef makes the best fish pies.’

‘I’ll make sure he saves you one.’

She waved him off, then turned back to the calm sea to watch the boats bobbing gently. It would be nice to sail away and forget about life for a bit. She blew a kiss out to sea. She did it every morning so it would float off to her soulmate, whoever the poor sod was. Some of her regular customers were heading her way though, so dreams were pushed to the back burner.

Safe travels. Wherever you are.

‘My wife used to do that for me,’ said the old man passing her by.

Ginny grinned at her friend Sophie’s grandfather. ‘Morning, Jed. You off to catch some fish?’

He pointed to the Happy to Help Hub. ‘No. I’m opening the Hub this morning. Sophie’s got enough for the fishmonger’s today, so I offered to take the early shift. Makes no difference to me, as I’m rostered on to open up for the next couple of weeks anyway.’ His slate-blue eyes twinkled with mischief as he gazed her way. ‘So, who you blowing kisses to, young lady?’

‘Whoever needs them.’

‘You know, if you ever have a fella at sea, light a candle in your window each night to help guide him home.’ He scratched his wiry grey beard and walked off.

Ginny stared over at the dark water. She was definitely lighting a candle tonight. Even though her dream man had only been invented to help keep her heart from giving up the ghost altogether, it was a nice thought that she could somehow manifest him or, at the very least, throw him some positive vibes. If she felt so alone at times in the world, maybe her soulmate was out there feeling the same way.