Changing Seasons. Autumn V, part 2

Autumn V, part 2 “Mmm, coffee. The smell brought me down.”
“You’re up and dressed early,” Molly said, blinking the sleep out of her own eyes.
“I know. I couldn’t sleep – no, the bed was fine – with the excitement of being here, where Grandpa Geo grew up, the place all his childhood stories were about…” Georgie Rivers came over and joined Molly at the table.
“I want to go everywhere, see everyone and everything! But I think I need to start with checking out Grandpa Geo's old house. Is that okay with you? I don’t want you to feel like I’m treating your house like a hotel.” “Of course it is. Come back when you’re hungry, or beg a meal from someone – no-one will mind you asking. And everyone’s been looking forward to meeting you. A new person is a Big Event round here, you know.” “Make sure you have a good breakfast before you go, though.”
Bess came into the kitchen wide awake, dressed, and firing on all cylinders.
“I’m making pancakes, so you can get yourself round some of those. And there’s cereal too, and toast and home-made preserves…You’ll be doing a lot of cycling today.”
Molly smiled fondly at her mother-in-law. “I’ll go get dressed then, and leave Georgie in your capable hands.” But before Molly headed off into the bathroom, she did what she did every morning now – relaxed on the bed for ten minutes, enjoying her beautiful bedroom. No planning, no mulling over problems. Just letting herself enjoy the transformation, the peace, the this-is-my-home-ness of the room. Bess had been so right to insist that they did this next. It made her day so much better. And she loved the bathroom too. The child-free bathroom! The no-grubby-fingerprints-on-the-towels bathroom. John was pretty keen on it too, especially the no-children-bursting-in-unexpectedly aspect of it. “Yay! Pancakes!” Janet said, slipping in to her seat. Georgie was taking Bess’s advice and starting with toast.
“Yes, and that table won’t lay itself, so suppose you go and make a start on that,” Bess said, flipping a pancake neatly.
“It’s Richard’s turn!” It was, too. “Bess says, ‘Them pancakes ain’t going to improve on keeping, so why don’t you come inside and get some breakfast in you.’ I think she means right now.”
Molly laughed. “I might well do that. I was just checking my bike tyres – you’re welcome to use it, as I won’t need it today. And then I realised that the tomatoes were ripe and needed picking, and wilting and needed watering…Enjoy yourself!” This was Grandpa Geo’s old house? It didn’t look like the place of his childhood stories. In fact, it looked really depressing. I’m not sure I can start with this, Georgie thought. So what else is on the list? “You’ll want to go and visit Clara,” Bess had said. “I reckon the two of you’ll probably get along just fine. You’ll find her house no problem – it’s Tom Tench’s old house, just round the corner from your Grandpa’s house. The painted and fixed up one, with the flowers at the front of it.”
“Hey, that’s some rug,” Georgie said, her eye caught by it as soon as she stepped inside.”
“Yep. I’m the town childminder, in case you didn’t know. But not today, so I’m longing for some adult conversation. Tell me all about why you’re here! Every detail, please…”
“It’s quite a long story…”
“I have rations. And tea and coffee. And lunch if we need it.”
Bess was right – Georgie found herself warming to Clara straight away.
“Well. My Grandpa Geo grew up here…” “It was really nice of you to invite me to stay here…”
“Hey, no problem! Janet gets her bed back, I get company, you’re way closer to your Grandpa Geo’s house. Mind you, you don’t get Bess’s amazing pancakes. I can make them, but not on a work morning.”
The two of them had talked through most of Saturday and then on Sunday Clara had cycled over and suggested that she put Georgie up instead.
“But she’s helping us with the weeding,” Janet had protested. “And Richard only snores a bit.”
“I’ll finish this weeding with you first,” Georgie promised.
“Brilliant,” Clara said. “Can I use your phone, Molly, to borrow a spare bed from Marcus and Annette?” “That’s my namesake you’ve got there. Clara Anne. And this is her older sister, Mary. They both belong to Marcus and Annette, who have the vineyard I was telling you about. As Annette says, she gets a lot more done with only one child at home instead of three. Clara Anna has a twin sister…”
“Oh my. I can see that three toddlers at once could be quite a handful.”
“Euan and Patience have six children – triplets twice.”
“Is there something in the water round here?” “I think I’ll go and see Tom Tench first. Then I’ll come back here and take a good look at that house. I’ll feel brave by then.”
“Give Old Tench my love,” Clara said. “Well, well, well. Ole Geo Rivers’ granddaughter. Ain’t thought of him for years and now here you are, sittin’ next to me. What’s the ole rascal been up to these past years?” “And so, after all he did for us when Dad was so sick, for so long…we all owe him so much. And I’m the one of us who’s most footloose and fancy-free, so I said I’d come here, have a look around, see how the house is looking – and if he wants to come back here, then I’ll come too for a bit, to keep an eye on him, get him settled in, give him a hand…” “You ain’t said what you do for a livin’.”
“I’m a journalist…”
“Can’t abide journalists! Not a decent bone in their bodies, the lot of ‘em…”
“I’ll tell Grandpa Geo that,” Georgie said demurely, amused by Tom Tench’s look of disgust. “That you don’t think I’ve got a decent bone in my body…” “You know I wasn’t talkin’ ‘bout you…”
“But I’m still a journalist,” Georgia said firmly. “I like finding stories that are worth telling. Or re-finding stories that have been lost. If we lose our stories, we lose who we are.”
A silence fell between then, broken by Old Tench saying, “You might be right there too. Since folks have started comin’ back, I’ve found a heap of stories I’d clean forgotten ‘n I’m better for it.”
“Are the newspaper offices still here? Grandpa Geo said the building was worth seeing.” “I’ll take you there, iffen you like. Now’s fine by me. Ain’t got nothin’ planned for today.”
“Great. And you can tell me just why you called Grandpa Geo an old rascal. In all the stories he tells us, he’s positively saintly…I need some ammunition to get back at him.”
“Well, there was the time Miss Kirk asked us all to go find some autumn leaves for the class display…” “Wow. That is quite fancy for a small town newspaper office.”
“Iffen you go over to the other side and take a look at the old Dunbarton factory, you’ll be seein’ a likeness. Stuart Dunbarton, he founded the newspaper way back when. Said a town needed its newspaper for its births, marryin’s and deaths and all them bits in between too.”
“Stories,” Georgie said softly. “My kind of reporting.” And then, aloud, “How do we get in? Or can’t we?”
“Follow me,” Old Tench said. “That Clara, she’s found her way into just ‘bout every buildin’ round here and this one ain’t no exception. Never did ask her how come she was so good at doin’ that…” Georgie laughed with him.
“This here was the old printin’ shed afore they put the new press in downstairs. But then that company took over the paper – forced the owners into sellin’ by not givin’ them any advertisin’, so I heard – promisin’ to keep it goin’. Only the very next week the press ‘broke down’ and they never fixed it. Said it was only worth breakin’ up for scrap and wouldn’t let no-one else take a look at it to see iffen it could be mended.”
“I really don’t like what I’ve heard about this company so far.” “Hey, that’s a Campbell!” Georgie said, looking at the rusty old printing press they were passing.
“They don’t make ‘em like that anymore,” Old Tench agreed. “Through there,” he went on, pointing at the door ahead of them. “That’s where the action useter be.” “This here was the newsroom. Never was more ‘n the editor plus one cub reporter, but folks would send stuff in. I remember my Mary getting’ a poem published one time when she was just ten. My, but she was proud as punch.”
As Old Tench went on talking, Georgie gained a picture of what the local paper had been like – a once-a-week paper full of local news, celebrating the good things and commiserating with the bad. If Grandpa Geo does decide to come here, she thought, I know what I want to do… “Good day then?” Clara asked, coming in from her I-need-to-stretch-my-legs run.
“So interesting! I’m writing stuff down before I forget it. This town is full of amazing stories.”
“Watch it. You’re already beginning to sound like a girl who wants to stay.”
“Worrying, isn’t it? I’m going to have to get that house and garden tidied up so that I can send Grandpa Geo some appealing pictures. Next time I’m in Newborough…”
“You can always write to him though. Drop the letter off with Minnie and she’ll mail it from her local postbox.” “Now you really look like you belong here,” Clara said as she headed for the bathroom Georgie had just vacated. “Everyone round here has an outfit like that. Some of us live in them…”
“I figured I’d be needing this when I packed to come here, if only for cleaning. You said Minnie sells cleaning stuff, didn’t you?”
“Cleaning stuff, gardening stuff, decorating stuff – you name it, she sells it.”
“I know where I’ll be going as soon as I’ve measured up then.” “Clara’s home looks really nice,” Georgie told herself. “With some serious work, I can get this one to look good too. Come on, girl, you can do this. Let’s work out how much paint we’re going to need. Where’s that tape measure Clara lent me?”