Two of the guest rooms were furnished, but they weren’t accepting visitors until they made sure they could handle the daily business of the tea room. They estimated opening at least four rooms in time for the week after Thanksgiving, when Hensley saw a slew of Christmas shoppers looking for the quaint antiques or unique crafts that crammed the shops on Main Street.
Betsy had started a routine of getting up early and taking a walk before the tourists hit downtown. It gave her time to clear her head and plan the day. It also gave her the opportunity to get a frothy coffee beverage from Hensley’s version of a coffee café. Merry refused to get an expresso machine for the B and B. British tea rooms did not serve expresso.
Betsy paid for her drink and turned around. That was the first time she noticed the woman in line behind her. She was bright and cheery, in a comfortable sort of way, but she was quiet. Betsy smiled at her, and the woman smiled back for a second, before suddenly her eyes rolled back into her head and she headed to the floor.
Betsy’s latte went flying as she quickly caught the woman and lowered her carefully to the floor. The girl behind the counter just stood up on her tip toes and peered over mouth open wide.
“Don’t just stand there, call 911!”
Betsy tried to think of what to do when someone fainted. She stripped off her jacket and covered the girl. She was breathing regularly, and Betsy said a silent word of thanks for that much.
The bell on the door tinkled and a man with a mop of hair, and a very beat up leather jacket entered. Whether it was the way he was dressed, or the way he carried himself, Betsy knew he was British before he even opened his mouth.
“Oi! What the fuck is she doing on the floor!” His face went white when he saw she wasn’t moving. Oh, God. Betsy couldn’t take it if two people passed out on her.
The man skidded to the floor on his knees and touched her cheek tenderly.
“Clare? Clare, Luv. You aren’t allowed to do this to me, sweetheart.”
“I’m okay.” She didn’t open her eyes, but both Betsy and the man breathed a sigh of relief.
“You still want me to call 911?” The girl behind the counter asked.
“You haven’t called yet?” What an idiot.
“I’m not supposed to leave the counter, and Jeff went out to take his break.”
The man looked up at Betsy and rolled his eyes. Kids.
“Please tell me I was smarter than that ten years ago,” the man said.
“Don’t call 911,” Clare said, finally opening her eyes. “My mom told me she had this problem too. She’d just keel over in the grocery store and then pop back up, right as rain.”
“Keeling over is not a normal occurrence,” Betsy stated.
“Al, I’m just fine. Please?”
Al sighed. “Luv, I think she has a point.” Al turned to Betsy. “My wife is a bit in the family way.”
“You don’t have to tell everyone we meet that I’m pregnant.”
Al rolled his eyes. He took a deep breath and yelled. “My wife is carrying my child!” He smiled at her. “Right. Had to get it out of my system. Where’s the nearest hospital. And where can we get a taxi in this town?”
“The hospital isn’t far, but getting a taxi might take a while. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen one in town.”
“Our car broke down yesterday. And I’m not going to the hospital. Besides, Al, we don’t have insurance yet.”
“I don’t need no bloody insurance. I’ll pay the fuckin’ non NHS leeches.”
“You know, my mom’s a nurse. She has today off. Maybe I could just ask her to take a look at Clare.”
“That would be wonderful. I don’t suppose you could help me up?”
Betsy and Al stood up, and then helped Clare up onto her feet. Sure enough, she seemed steady on her feet.
“Let me get you another coffee,” Clare said as she pulled out her wallet.
“No, thanks. Any more excitement and my nerves are going to be shot. Do you think you can handle a walk to my house? It’s only a few blocks. I’ll call my mom and have her meet us there.”
“I keep telling you I’m fine.” Clare directed this comment at her husband, who had a caution hand on her waist.
Betsy guided the pair out the door and down the street. She called her mom on her way. Betsy watched as her mom pulled in the driveway just as they reached the house.
Al stopped and stared, head slightly askew at the large house. Betsy realized he was ogling the Union Jack they had put up on the porch, just as Betsy had promised Merry.
“Oh. We’re opening a tea room next week. And then a B and B in a few weeks.”
“Tea? Oh, it’s so hard to get a decent cuppa around here,” Al said with a hint of longing in his voice.
“My friend Merry says the exact same thing. She’s a Brit too.”
As if on cue, Merry shuffled out the front door in a pair of blue flannel jammies and pink bunny slippers.
“Put the kettle on. We have guests,” Betsy shouted. Merry, who obviously had not had any caffeine yet looked at her watch.
“We don’t open until next week, or did I just have a really long nap?”
Betsy waited until her mom was also in earshot before explaining. “Long story short. This is Clare and Al. She’s pregnant and fainted dead away in the coffee shop. She says her mom used to do the same thing. Al wants to make sure she’s okay, so I invited them over so Mom could look her over.”
“All right. Come on in. Kettle’s already on, and probably whistling.”
Merry held the door open while they filed in the front door. Al, the last one in, looked down at her slippers.
“Nice bunnies. Had me a pair like those when I was five.”
“Cheers.”
Betsy led them into the tea room, and everyone except Merry took a seat.
“I apologize for the lack of silverware and tablecloths. The tables just arrived yesterday,” Betsy said.
“No worries,” Al said. His eyes widened as Merry brought out a tea tray, laden not with just one, but three large pots.
“Figured I might as well put you to work as tasters. I’ve got three tea blends. You can help by tasting them, so we can get a description in the menu.”
Betsy headed back to the cabinet and pulled out the teacups while Merry disappeared back into the kitchen.
A few days last week, Merry, Betsy and Polly had gone out on an all day excursion to as many garage sales as they could find. Their mission was to buy as many parts and pieces of different tea sets as they could. Merry had decided that the quaint miss match of the tea cups and pots would add a certain amount of charm. It also meant they could buy and replace broken pieces cheaply. Betsy had also been busy on EBay, filling in any pieces they couldn’t find locally.
“I like this one,” Clare said as she claimed one with flowers and butterflies painted along the rim.
“This one’s got my name on it,” Al said as he took the biggest one.
Guests seemed to like choosing their own unique teacup. Betsy filed away the thought to discuss with Merry later.
“So what part of England are you from?”
“London, but we met at Uni, in Canterbury.”
“You’re kidding,” Betsy said.
Al just raised an eyebrow at her.
“That’s where Merry and I met. At Uni. In Canterbury. I was in Eliot, and she was next door.”
“Bloody hell,” Al swore. Clare just giggled.
“The North South corridor?”
“No, the East West! I was there for a year.”
“So was I. Probably different years, though. I’m older than you. It’s been four years for me.”
“The year before last for me. Oh God. Did you read English?”
“Dr. Veltman? Did you have him?” Betsy nodded.
“This is just too freaky.”
“Seriously. Imagine, of all the people to faint in front of, it has to be someone who knows what The Gulbenkian is.”
The girls laughed. Merry came out with another tray, this time laden with breakfast food.
“Oh, Luv. You and I might be getting a divorce if that food is as good as it smells,” Al said as he picked up his fork.
Clare just rolled her eyes. “I don’t think she’d be willing to put up with you. Where’s your bathroom? I think I need to throw up now.”
Al seemed to be the only one to take her seriously. He scrambled out of his chair and hoisted her up. A look at Betsy, and she realized Clare wasn’t kidding. Betsy stood and showed them the way to the downstairs bathroom.
When they emerged, Clare looked slightly green and more than a little sheepish.
“I’m so sorry.”
“It was the breakfast smell,” Elizabeth added. She had come out to check on Clare as well. “It’s normal. You just need to take it easy for a while and hopefully the morning sickness will pass.”
“We actually have a guest room ready, if you want to take a nap. It’s the first room upstairs on the left.”
Al was half carrying Clare up the stairs before she had time to object.
“Just leave some of those bangers for me!” Al shouted down. “Cuz I’m not preggers and I’ve got me quite an appetite haulin’ the wife up and down the stairs!”
Betsy was just able to hear Clare admonish her husband before they disappeared into the room.
A few minutes later Al came down and began to demolish his plate of food.
“So have you been married long?”
“We got married her last year of Uni. Vegas, baby. Went about Europe on our honeymoon. Came back to the states, do a bit more traveling. But I think now the baby’s coming, it’s time for a little set down. Promised Clare a few things, though.”
Al eyed the platter with the last sausage on it. Merry scooped it up and dumped it on his plate.
“Got any other nice big places up for sale around these parts?”
“There is a bit of a real estate slump in California. But people in Hensley tend to stay in Hensley. Unless they die off, of course. Like Mrs. Thompson.”
Edna Thompson had been the creepy cat lady who had owned the house before Betsy. She’d had five zillion cats, never left the house, and had all her groceries delivered directly to the house once a week by Mr. Clement, an equally old and creepy caretaker. The house had been on the market for three years, simply because her she’d donated it to the local animal shelter, and they didn’t have the money to complete the renovations needed to turn it into a nice residence, or a B and B. Despite popular opinion, the inside of the house wasn’t a dusty ancient wedding feast of cobwebs. Mrs. Thompson had been quite a housecleaner. The house only needed a new roof, a fresh coat of paint, and a little love.
“I think there might be one or two cottages available, but those are mostly for people who want a holiday house away from the city,” Elizabeth said.
“It isn’t like London, but Hensley seems to be a bit overpriced for the location to me,” Merry stated.
“True. It really depends on your price range. I mean, there’s everything from slightly run down cottages for two or so hundred thousand to a whole Hippy Village for three million.”
“The Hippy Village is for sale?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yeah, I saw it listed when I was looking for this place.”
“Explain for non Hensleyans.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Back in the sixties and seventies a bunch of tree hugging, drug loving, communist hippies, well that’s what my father called them, anyway. They bought some acreage outside of town and started a commune.”
“Ooh, did they drink the Kool-Aide?”
“No, during the 1980’s they went through a leadership change and got some religion. So they switched over from vegetables and weed, to well, crosses, sermons, and prayers.”
“So they were reformed drug loving communist hippies?”
“Yes,” Betsy added. “They built up the complex with individual prayer cabins and a huge cafeteria where they could convert their new converts.”
“So what happened to them all?” Al asked.
“Apparently religion wasn’t as popular as weed. They ran out of money, and had to sell it off. They tried to convert it to a summer camp, but it never really took off.”
“Interesting,” Al said, with his eye on the last piece of toast. Merry stuck it on his plate.
“So you might as well stay here tonight,” Merry said. “I mean we haven’t officially opened, but I’ve got a feeling that Clare and Betsy are going to get along famously.”
Betsy smiled. “How’d you guess?”
“And I’m what? Chopped liver?”
“No. You’re the icing. She has a soft spot for Brits. Besides, it would lend a bit more credence to the place if we’ve got two Londoners hanging about.”
“I was paying one fifty a night at the other place. What’s your rate.”
“Really, I think since we haven’t opened-“ Merry put up her hand to stop Betsy. She put on her bargaining face.
“Since we haven’t opened, we’ll give you a reduced rate, to match theirs.”
“That include breakfast?”
“Of course.”
“Done!”
Merry sat back, looking pleased with herself. Al also looked pretty pleased.
“Would have paid two hundred. Their rooms were smaller and they didn’t feed me.”
“Would have given it to you for a hundred.”
The two of them sized each other again with a new respect. Al broke into a half smile. Merry laughed outright.
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