Winter Magic in Port Berry (Port Berry #3)

Chapter 3

Will

Will had been busy all week clearing out his grandmother’s cottage He was so glad Marie had agreed to help him. The cottage was sold and the money would be banked for ongoing care home fees.

‘I feel terrible doing this,’ he told Marie, holding up a glass vase.

Babs had gone off with just a few pictures for her wall, her favourite chair, some trinkets from her early years with her husband, and her clothes.

Marie packed books into a box, ready for the charity shop. ‘This is making me realize I don’t need half the stuff in my house. I’ll have a good clear-out in the new year.’

‘I’ve never had much. I was hardly home anyway.’

‘You could have bought this place now you’re sticking around, then you could have had all this.’

Will breathed out a small laugh as he perused his grandmother’s things. ‘Not sure we have the same taste.’

‘What’s your place like in Wales?’

‘Pretty plain. Basic needs. Small flat. That sort of thing.’

Marie laughed. ‘Sounds homely.’

Will tossed some bubble wrap her way. ‘Hey, it does the job.’

‘I guess it does, but homes are more than a roof over your head. You make it your own by surrounding yourself with things that spark joy.’

‘My kettle sparks joy. I do love a cuppa first thing.’

‘I’m being serious.’

Will laughed. ‘So am I. Anyway, what’s the point of any of it when it all gets thrown away when you’re gone or carted off to a home?’

Marie huffed her way up from the floor and onto the sofa. ‘The point is, you get to enjoy it while you’re here. Don’t you ever have those moments where you glance around your home and just smile because you love the wallpaper or your fireplace or rug or something?’

‘Nope. Can’t say that’s ever happened to me.’

‘Oh, Willard, that seems so sad.’

‘Please stop calling me Willard. No offence to my grandad, but I’ve always hated my name. Will suits me just fine, thank you.’

‘Okay, Will, but my statement still stands. You need a happy home, not a basic-needs one.’

‘You know I was in the navy, right? Wasn’t exactly all scatter cushions and eyelet drapes.’

‘I’m now visualizing your flat painted battleship grey.’

Will laughed. ‘Close.’

‘What kind of property are you looking for around here?’

‘Not sure yet. I’ll have a look around while I’m staying at the B the only two people Will knew in Port Berry were his gran and Marie.

Ah, wait, the owner of the B&B. Yep, that’ll do it. She had gossip written all over her.

He chewed back his grin as he gestured at the noticeboard. ‘Know this place, sir?’

‘Name’s Jed Moore, and yes. The centre has a few ex-military as members. One lad lost his limbs when he was a soldier, and there’s another over there who swears the place helped cure his PTSD. They have therapists and social workers that work closely with the centre, you see. So join in. Could help if you’re lost on Civvy Street.’

Will laughed. ‘Do I look lost?’

Jed shook the kettle his way. ‘Everyone who steps foot in here looks lost.’

‘I was just looking for some local work. Perhaps some property to buy as well.’

‘Sticking around then?’

‘My grandmother lives here, so I want to be close by.’

Jed nodded, placing some chocolate biscuits on the light-wood table. ‘Heard about Babs. Shame when the mind goes.’ He motioned towards the window. ‘As long as I can remember my love for the sea, I’ll be okay.’

Will followed his eyeline. ‘Were you in the navy?’

‘Nope. Fisherman, me. And speaking of jobs, I don’t need any more help, but I might know of some other fishermen that do. You want me to ask around for you?’

Will shook his head. ‘Thanks, but no. I’ve given up my sea legs.’

Slate-blue eyes sparkled his way. ‘No such thing, son.’

‘Perhaps I’ll still have the odd paddle.’

‘You can come sea swimming with me anytime you like. I often go out with Matt. He’s my granddaughter’s partner. First guest this here Hub saw, you know. We fixed him up good and proper. Your turn, I guess.’

Will had to laugh. He thought he was popping inside to check out the noticeboard, but he’d been offered choccy bickies, swimming mates, and the offer to perhaps become a fisherman. ‘I’m sure there are more in need than me. I’m just looking to settle in around here.’

‘I’m sure there are, but it doesn’t mean you can’t be helped as well. You’re Babs’s grandson. You’re one of us, and by the end of the week, you’ll be Port Berry through and through. Come on, sit. I’m making tea.’

Will did as he was asked, glancing around at the framed affirmations on the walls. ‘So what is this place exactly?’

Jed turned. ‘A few of us along here got together and opened it up to help folk. Saw a couple of homeless people one day down by the harbour, and it got us thinking. We’re a food bank now as well.’ He nodded at the back room. ‘Not a lot of space here, but we deliver some food parcels as well as hand them out here. We’ve helped people get jobs, therapy, haircuts, all sorts.’

‘Sounds like a lot of teamwork.’

Jed beamed, showing his pride. ‘We’re a close-knit community here.’

Will smiled. That’s how he felt about the navy. A hot brew was passed his way, so he happily dunked a biscuit, seeing how they were right in front of him. He still hadn’t had lunch yet, but figured one choccy bickie wouldn’t quash his appetite.

Jed sat opposite. ‘Hmm, so, what kind of job can we get for you? Have you done much since jumping ship?’

Laughing through his biscuit, Will nodded. ‘I just did a year as a rescue worker in Wales.’

‘Firefighter?’

‘Snowdonia.’

Jed nodded. ‘Interesting. Not much call for that sort of thing around here. Although, the Sunshine Centre have rock climbing as an activity. You could help out with that.’

‘Yeah, I’m going to pop over there at some point.’

‘You eaten in the café along here yet? Harbour Light Café. Bit of a landmark around these parts. Always good for lunch and breakfast.’

‘You should be a salesman.’

Jed grinned as he raked one hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. ‘Lived here all my life. I know all the best places.’

Will touched his own hair. ‘You can definitely sort me out with a barber.’

‘I’m going to give you a list, son.’ Jed reached over to the sideboard and grabbed a notepad and pen. ‘Everywhere you should go around here. You’ll soon get your bearings.’ He raised the pen to his ear. ‘Artie’s son-in-law, Shaun, has his own building company. Fixing up Lottie’s house as we speak, only up the road. You up for a spot of labouring? I can get you in there.’

‘Erm, I—’

‘Tell you what we’ll do. You go have your lunch, then come back here. My shift will be over, and I’ll take you to meet Shaun. If he’s not about, we’ll fix another time to see him. There, that’s another thing sorted.’

It wasn’t a bad plan, if a little rushed and unexpected.

Will nodded. ‘Sure, that’ll be great, thanks.’

‘No worries. Go on, get going. Time and tide wait for no man.’

Will managed to get in one more gulp of tea before being manhandled towards the door.

‘You’re in safe hands, Willard Pendleton,’ said Jed, giving him a hefty shove in the direction of the café.

Will brushed some crumbs from his lapel as he turned to speak, but Jed had closed the door on him. He had to laugh.

I didn’t even tell him my name.

He glanced over at the sea, inhaled the salty air, and smiled at the seagulls circling a fishing trawler. There was something about the place drawing him in already, and that was without the old fisherman in the Hub trying to organize his life.

The crisp air nipped his neck, so he turned up the collar on his navy-coloured coat and hurried towards the café.

Whoa!

The nautical theme made him smile immediately. He glanced up at the fishing nets and fake seagulls above, then at the framed pirate story to his side. Now, if only he owned such a place, he’d never bother looking for work again. It was an idea. Perhaps he could get himself something similar.

Will sat by the window, perusing the menu. Harbour Light Café was giving him all sorts of business ideas, and he started to wonder if Jed had method in his madness when he sent him there.

He glanced up at a storm lamp hanging high above him. Yep, he could do something with a nautical theme, but what? A café of his own? No, they already had this one. Some sort of gift shop for the tourists, perhaps, but he’d seen quite a few in the area. He needed to find a gap in the market. Something they didn’t have that would be a good fit for a seaside village and would make money all year round, not just peak season . . .

A tearoom.

He racked his brains, pretty sure Harbour End Road didn’t have one. He’d double-check after lunch, but so far so good. He used to love going in the one along by his flat in Wales, and it was always busy. All he needed was to secure some premises. What a lovely way to become part of the area. He was sure the locals would enjoy having a tea shop along the harbour. And he wouldn’t be stepping on anyone’s toes.