My heart was a lonely house, where strangers wandered in and out. Until Tuesday. (Everything's Tuesday, Chairmen of the Board)
Cynthia pulled up at Mount Busby Farm, Delia was due a blood pressure check and needed her bunions treating. Bernie noticed a familiar Mini parked in Cynthia's usual spot. She mostly got on very well with its owner Jane. She was a regular church goer and one of Bernie's closest and oldest friends, at times though things could be wee bit awkward between them. Although her friend professed to share the same beliefs as Bernie, her chosen profession had given Bernie some cause for concern.
The carer was greeted by a tall striking woman looking about 20 years younger than her age declared on Wikipedia. The flecks of red in her grey perfectly coiffed hair attracting the late afternoon sunlight stretching through the grand doorway.
"Go through, Nurse. Delia won't mind. I think they are nearly finished."
"I would prefer to wait, if you don't mind, Ms Mount," Bernie politely declined.
"As you wish and it's Patsy, I will go and pop the kettle on."
Bernie shouted her own name after her host in reciprocation of the gesture. She wondered whether to follow Patsy, when both Delia and Jane came down the old oak staircase. Jane hugged her friend and, discovering that this was Bernie's last visit of the day, agreed to also take tea with the two sociable farmhouse residents.
Once sat in the parlour Bernie wrapped the BP cuff around Delia's arm.
"It should be in my boots," remarked the tiny Welsh woman, "After an hour with the lovely Jane and her healing hands."
Bernie exchanged a weak smile. Jane was well aware of Bernie's reservations concerning her healing skills, she wasn't the only church member to view Jane's gifts with speculation. Some openly disapproved and refused to sit anywhere near her, nevermind talk to her, as if heresy was contagious. Bernie however had never discussed Jane's treatments even though they often visited the same homes. Bernie was too polite and would never wish to offend anyone, especially someone as kind as Jane. The healer was also not in the habit of defending her choices, she didn't push her claims and went about her work quietly. She was very busy for someone who didn't indulge in self promotion, her reputation and word of mouth from those she helped, sufficed to fill her diary.
When the two friends took their leave of the farmhouse they meandered over to the paddock where the Alpacas were busy munching grass.
"We haven't been out in a while Bernie, do you fancy popping over to Appleby Thornton on Saturday? I could do with picking up a few boxes of tea-lights and some oils. We could make a day of it."
Bernie hesitated, "I can't Jane, I'm working, I am afraid."
"Sister Crane got you working weekends Bernie?"
"Erm no, it's not for Phyll."
"Moonlighting, Bernie Mannion I am shocked."
"No it's completely legit, Phyll knows, even encouraged me," Bernie started defensively and then relaxed seeing the twinkle in her pal's eye.
"Are you sitting with someone?"
"No, unless you mean Paddy Turner," Bernie managed a smile, "I am working at the Crown."
"The pub!" Gentle Jane's sudden raise of voice startled the Alpacas.
"No the Queen, I do sentry duty of a weekend at Buck Palace."
Jane burst into laughter, "Well you're beginning to sound like cheeky Val, can you flirt like her too?"
"Stop it Jane! I really like her, she's been very good to me."
"I am joking, I give her an aromatherapy massage once a month, she has me in stitches."
"Do you? I thought it was supposed to be relaxing?"
"Well some clients do fall asleep, but Val never shuts up. It's usually a Tuesday and I think I am just a small cog in the complex preparations to meet the next Mr Right." Bernie laughed at her friends revelations with comprehension.
"Your dad was a bit the same." Jane gasped aware of her mistake.
"My dad?"
"Oh Bernie I am so sorry I promised not to tell. It was just some reflexology he found it soothing with all the burdens he shared. I am so sorry. I always gifted my fee to the collection plate."
"How did I no ken? I had no idea." Her voice sharper than anticipated, the alpacas retreated further down field.
"He asked me to be discreet, he thought you might not approve."
They parted on good terms one disappointed in herself for betraying a confidence and one fighting back the tears for being outside of that confidence.
Later:
"I wouldn't be to upset old thing, I hear she is very good. I have been fancying a bit of a rub down myself for a while. But somewhat afraid she may up her fee due to the extra mileage involved." Chummy snorted.
"I think she covers Appleby Thornton," Bernie said perplexed, "She seems willing to travel. You only live in the next town, Chummy."
"Oh Bernie you are so sweet, I meant my extra surface area." Chummy laughed so hard at her self deprecating joke she wobbled on the bar stool she was precariously balanced on.
Bernie frowned. Ever since Camilla had transferred from the Berkshire force as a young rookie and started attending St. Preservus church they had become firm friends. They had kept in contact while Bernie was in London, Camilla had even come down for a weekend. The only time Chummy didn't make Bernie laugh was when she made jokes at her own expense. She knew she wasn't alone in this and the other person who disapproved of it had just come in.
"Bernie, this is a pleasant surprise," exclaimed Peter, "Where is Smiler?"
Bernie hadn't time to reply, Chummy was there before her.
"Old Temperance has gone to the Tea-cups apparently and Bernie has stepped into the breech, isn't it just splendid?"
Bernie smiled, Chummy was always so supportive, not just when she had told her she was moving to London to find God's plan for her life. Chummy had been equally enthusiastic when she had explained her long held dream of returning to Scottish birthplace to build a retreat. She had been just as supportive when Bernie had nervously informed her at church on Sunday morning, that she couldn't stay for tea and biscuits, because she was expected at the Crown.
"The Fourteen Tea-cups, I bet she reduces it to The Tea-cup by the end of the month."
Bernie giggled mostly at Chummy's over-the-top reaction to Peter's weak joke. She really was a good friend to everyone and Bernie often thought, Poplar and the surrounding area were so lucky to have her looking after them.
Tuesday nights were a lot different to Saturday and Sundays, but there was a steady flow of customers all evening. Bernie knew Tuesday was usually Paddy's unofficial night off too, the kitchen was closed as Vi liked to go to Bingo with Reggie. She kept telling Paddy she would be OK on her own and would soon let him know if she got into difficulties. She was determined to prove to him she wasn't a liability. He left a couple of times for the flat, but always returned on some vague pretence a few minutes later. She wondered if he would ever trust her. She told him to at least go and play pool with Tim and Jack, but his son had made it very clear his father's presence was not required in the adjacent games room. Eventually she gave in, he was good company, but she had so wanted to make a good impression on her first shift without the supervision of Val.
Bernie had returned from the kitchen after retrieving a lemon. She was surprised to see both Chummy and Peter had left without saying goodbye. Paddy informed her they had just nipped out to the beer garden.
"But neither of them smoke and it's a bit nippy out there tonight." Bernie was confused.
Paddy just smiled, it was one of the ones that had started to make her tummy flip. He squeezed her arm as he moved past her. Did he know what he did to her she wondered, was the squeeze out of sympathy for her rogue insides? Bernie knew she had coloured slightly after the exchange and decided to go and see what her friends were up to. Telling Paddy she was going to check the ashtrays and see if the two workmates knew how to turn on the outdoor heaters. Paddy smirked again, Bernie was more prepared this time and tightened her stomach muscles in preparation.
"I wouldn't worry Bernie, I think they will be warm enough," Paddy winked.
Bernie wasn't prepared for that and the disobedient organ flipped again.
Bernie returned a few seconds later, her stomach was now doing somersaults but it wasn't this time due to Paddy. He smiled at her again and continued serving a regular a pint of Timothy Turner Mild.
"Bernie," a familiar voice hissed behind her and a hand squeezed the same arm Paddy had earlier, this time leading her into the small snug used mainly by dinners. In the empty room Camilla talked quickly,
"I am so sorry you had to witness that, we really should be more careful." Chummy was obviously distressed by her friends recent intrusion.
"You have nothing to apologise for," gabled Bernie, "I am happy for you, really I am. You could have warned me though," and she broke into a smile.
"That's just it, we can't tell anyone. If the powers-that-be find out, they will separate us, put us on different shifts, we will never see each other either at work or play." Chummy was frantic.
"Oh, I didnae think, but I wouldnae tell, you know that Chummy." Bernie was quickly piecing the puzzle together.
"Did you really have no idea?" Chummy was a radiant blush pink
Bernie truthfully shook her head.
"Did you think Peter was just a terrible policeman or just awful at exams?"
Bernie felt stupid, "Of course, if he became Sergeant you would be separated, too. Oh Chummy, that is so unselfish of him and the most romantic thing ever."
"I think so." Chummy's nerves were calming.
"Wait how long has this been going on?"
"3 years, 6 months, 2 weeks and 74 hours roughly," Chummy added in all seriousness.
Bernie giggled and then stopped, "And you didn't tell me even when I was in London and very unlikely to slip up with your secret."
"Oh Bernie I am sorry, I would trust you with my life, you know that."
"But not this." Bernie was trying not to sound hurt.
"I wasn't sure you would approve, old thing."
"I understand your reasons for discretion, it's not like you've been blatantly lying." Bernie was trying to hide the indignation in her voice.
"That's not the thing Bernie, Peter doesn't go to church, he doesn't class himself as an atheist, more a sceptic shall we say."
"I've seen him at church lots," Bernie protested.
"That's because he wants to be with me sometimes, when," Chummy chose her words carefully, "When he has stopped over, shall we say for a night cap, that's when he comes."
"Oh, I see," Bernie felt tears prick her eyes for the second time that day at a friends revelation.
"You are so certain about what kind of man you want to marry, I thought you might disapprove of this relationship."
"It matters to me Chummy, I want to open a retreat and do God's work, remember it's important that my partner wants the same things as I do. I know God has someone special for me or I will stay single, whichever is his will." Bernie felt a lot more at ease explaining this to Chummy than she had to Val a few weeks ago.
Chummy nodded and shuffled on her size 7 feet. Bernie continued,
"You are already following God's plan for you, by serving the community and Peter has that same vision. He is a good man Chummy and who knows if he accompanies you to church often enough, his heart may eventually open. It might be meant to be." Bernie added reassuring herself.
"Quite right," added Chummy, "Until then it will be our little secret. I am so relieved that you finally know. Friends shouldn't have secrets." She enveloped the much smaller woman in a bear hug, Bernie's feet leaving the ground for a second.
The last punter had drunk up. The tables and bar had all been cleaned, glasses all washed. Paddy added ice and the last of the lemon to two tumblers and emptied the premium gin bottle of four shots. He added a Mediterranean tonic to one and took the top off the other but left the contents inside. He leaned over to the straw carousel and plonked a black straw into the glass that was minus the tonic.
"I think we have earned this."
"Straws Mr Turner are for soft drinks only," Bernie did a remarkable impression of her predecessor.
Paddy grinned in surprise, "Hidden talents, Miss Mannion."
"That's me Shelagh Bernadette Mannion, barmaid of mystery," she giggled as they took a bench seat.
"It was busier than I expected," Bernie queried.
"Hmmm, news must have got out about the new barmaid," Paddy said by way of explanation, "Apparently she's a real looker."
"Paddy, you are so old fashioned," Bernie's scolded trying to hide her blushes.
"No I am just old," he laughed.
"No you are not, that's nonsense, you are still Poplar's most eligible bachelor," she giggled.
"The merry widower," Paddy replied ruefully.
"Oh Paddy, I am so sorry." Bernie could have kicked herself, "I don't know what's wrong with me today, I have had so many difficult conversations."
"Bernie this isn't difficult, I didn't mean to correct you, forgive me."
"I found out today that people I thought trusted me, have been keeping secrets from me." She surprised herself with her confession to her new boss.
"If you're talking about Chummy and Peter, I should have stopped you going outside. It was just too funny." Paddy also confessed.
"You know!" Bernie was so shocked she actually spilled the whole bottle of tonic she was pouring into her drink. "Bugger!" she muttered. Paddy looked bemused. "My friend in London, she taught me lots of bad habits I am afraid."
"What did you do for her?" Paddy asked trying not to laugh.
"Introduced her to Jesus," Bernie beamed.
Paddy roared with laughter, checking to see if Bernie was also amused and was relieved that she was,
"Fair trade," he added
"She says I saved her life, but she is prone to exaggeration," Bernie added shyly.
He sensed she didn't want to say more. Paddy returned to the original topic.
"So who else has been keeping secrets?"
"My dad and two people I thought knew me so well, they didn't tell me stuff because they thought I'd disapprove of them. What does that say about me?" Bernie was suddenly very serious.
Paddy answered slowly, "I think it says they cared about you and didn't want you to feel uncomfortable, they obviously valued your opinion."
"My dad stopped doing something with someone that gave him comfort because of me." Bernie protested.
Paddy raised an eyebrow, "Go Wilf."
Bernie hesitated a second and then squealed, "Paddy, not that!"
"I don't know what your talking about, you have a filthy mind Bernadette, for a vicar's daughter."
"No, that's my da you're talking about, behave yourself," trying so hard to sound vexed and not giggle and failing badly.
"Your dad had a terrible sense of humour, you should have heard him in some of those council meetings, even made the Matron blush once."
Bernie was hooked, "I feel like I didn't really know him, when I thought I did. Tell me more Paddy, please."
"Well for a start, he was very proud of you."
Bernie gulped and for the third time that day she felt tears in her eyes. She really must start wearing her glasses for work. Paddy was still looking at her, directly into her eyes. He was serious now, there was no hint of amusement in his own dark eyes, more a searching for something. They were sat so close together she hadn't realized their thighs were touching, only separated by Bernie's freshly laundered compulsory black skirt and Paddy's faded jeans.
Paddy moved forward just slightly and Bernie quickly spoke up,
"Please Paddy, tell me about my dad."
