The Wolf Of Penshaw Lake
Chapter 13

The beautiful June sun turned into a curse when it came to heavy lifting. Sweating unattractively, I lifted one side of a withered, brown, leather couch to shift it a few inches to the right. Mum, somehow now a perfectionist, was just not keen on its placement, no matter where it went. She stood back against the door frame, as I slowly placed down my end, to get a good look. I swept back the few strands of hair that had escaped the confines of my ponytail and decided to stick against my forehead, wincing at the damp, sticky feel of my skin.

“I just don’t know where to put it?” Mum mused, gripping her chin with her left hand and pursing her lips in thought.

“The tip?” I muttered beneath my breath.

“I heard that,” She sighed. “It will do I think, I wish it was a fabric couch, not leather.”

It had taken us two weeks to fully move ourselves into Jane’s beautiful, yet archaic B&B. An antiquated cottage, it burst at its old, oak, seams with personality and vibrancy. But the key word wasold.The furniture had been withered from years of love and the wallpaper was cracked and yellowed. It took us the best part of those two weeks turning it into somewhere homely, yet modern. The cottage proudly owned five bedrooms, two shared bathrooms, a kitchen and open-plan living space and dining area. It was more space than I had ever dreamed of, and judging by the lack of visitors, we would be the sole inhabitants to embrace it.

I slumped down into the couch, crossing one leg over the other and flicking my hair out of the way. Resting my arm on the couch, I observed how mum flitted around the room, straightening the ceramic ornaments on the mantelpiece and smoothing out the corners of the frayed, grey rug with her foot.

“Mum, I honestly think you’ve done enough,” I commented, taking a swig from a water bottle I left on the oak, side table. It was now warm, due to the sunlight streaming through the bay window on my left. I made a face, but swallowed it down anyway, making a mental reminder to grab another bottle from the fridge.

“Do you think? I know it’s unlikely that we’ll ever get visitors, but if we do, I want it to be welcoming and homely.”

I sighed, “I’ve got an interview at Blossom’s in an hour. Take a break, while I get ready.” I said, as I stood to my feet. Suddenly, a wave of anxiety poured through my veins as my brain stumbled across a thought that hadn’t crossed it before. “Do you reckon they will take cash in hand?” I gasped.

Mum grinned, “No need, I nipped into the little bank yesterday afternoon. Using our fake identification, I set up a joint bank account for a Louise and Sophie Moore. Your wages can go into that.”

“They didn’t ask any questions?” I asked, sitting up on the edge of the couch.

“I think they were more than pleased to have new customers. This place is barely on the map.”

The safety of the seclusion, holding hands in harmony with its beauty, was what made Penshaw Lake so irresistible. I let out a breath I wasn’t aware I had been holding and held a hand to my chest. I smiled weakly and turned out of the living room to head upstairs. Gripping the mahogany banister, I danced up the stairs on my toes, my brain running circles around all the questions I could be asked, and my possible answers for them.

My interview outfit was hanging neatly on the door of the wooden wardrobe; shielding the silver mirror from view. I lifted the black, pencil skirt and loose, beige shirt from it and lay them on my bed.

My bed,I thought. I finally had a bed to call my own, after a year of hotels and motels, cheap sheets and housekeeping. I never thought I would be glad to wash my own sheets.

But here I was.

The shirt I bought from Dee’s the previous weekend was a light beige, silky with long sleeves. It felt loose and free against my skin, yet it was formal and smart. The black, pencil skirt I paired it with came to knee-length and I tuck the shirt into it, ensuring that there are no awkward creases. I tease my hair into a slicked back bun, secured with as many bobby pins as I can replace. I lightly apply some makeup, so I don’t look all sweaty, and I’m feeling ready to go.

Checking the clock on the end-table, I grimace as I realise I have forty-five minutes left until my interview.May as well get some sun,I decide and grab my black, ballet pumps to slide them effortlessly onto my feet. Leaving the B&B, I shout a goodbye to mum, who is still somehow cleaning. She barely hears me over the sound of a handheld vacuum cleaner, but gives me a fleeting wave and a shout of ‘good luck’ as I pass her and out of the door.

The sun immediately warms my skin, but this time I no longer feel sweaty from its effects. This time, I almost feel it penetrating through my skin and warming every inch of my body until I feel at home and perfectly content. I was a summer girl, through and through. The sun had begun to lighten my brunette hair, and now the golden strands shone among their darker companions. My bare legs, poking out beneath the skirt had begun to tan, leaving them a light, golden brown which I much preferred to the pale, pasty colour of skin during the winter time.

I entered Blossoms’, immediately spying Josie serve a couple some drinks. She turns to me, her dark hair swinging across her shoulders, not in a cap or up like the other waitresses. It surprised at how much she, and the others’, were able to get away with here. I wondered how they gained so much influence, money? Land? Family?

“Hey Sophie,” She called, flinging her tray in the general direction of the worktop, not bothering to pick it up when it flies through the window into the kitchens.

I laugh, “Hi Josie, I’m here for the interview. Where do I go?”

“I’ll come with and introduce you to my manager,” She explained, and lead me through the tables towards the back of the cafe, where we slipped through a door marked ‘Employees Only.’ Through the door, I was met with the kitchen on my right and a staff room on my left. Walking down the corridor, I spy the employee toilets and finally an office.

Josie knocked twice on the closed door, then threw it open, startling a older lady who was sat on the phone at her desk.

“Sophie is here for her interview,” She announced. The lady gestured to the phone, then sighed and shook her head before telling the person on the other end that she would call them back.

“Josie how many times have I-” The woman began, before cutting herself off and turning to me. “Never mind, Josie doesn’t seem to understand the notion of knocking andwaiting," She says pointedly.

Josie shrugs, “This is much more important.”

The lady rolls her eyes at Josie, but doesn’t give her any more punishment other than that. She turns to me with kind eyes and introduces herself, “I’m Anna. I’m the manager of Blossoms’ and also the best friend of her mother.” She pauses as she reads the look in my eyes, “Which is probably the answer you’re looking for as to why I didn’t just give her a disciplinary for barging in. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

Josie chuckles, “You’d be lost without me here Anna. Anyway, I’ll leave you here with Sophie, I’ll get back to work.”

Josie leaves with a wink in my direction and shuts the door behind her. I’m left in Anna’s little office and suddenly feeling rather nervous. This would be my first job interview, I had to do well. Anna gestures for me to sit on the opposite side of her desk and she folds up some papers as she comes to sit back down in her chair.

“So, Sophie, how are you settling in to Penshaw Lake?” She asks, throwing me off my guard.

“Oh, um, great thank you. Everyone is very friendly, especially Josie. We’ve become good friends,” I reply, plastering a smile on my face.

“Do you have much waitressing experience?”

I feel my gut clench, I wanted so badly to do well, but I knew I wasn’t exactly the ideal candidate, “No,” I answered, “But I’m a quick learner,” I add.

“Have you any references from previous jobs?”

I felt myself sinking down into the chair. This was not quite going as I planned. I shook my head, “This would be my first job, ma’am.”

Anna raised her eyebrows, “Oh. Well, in that case you’re definitely going to need some training. Did you get any GCSE’s or college level grades?”

I nod, finally something I can give her, “Yes I have eleven GCSE’s, and my A-levels.”

“Great, so at least you’re not illiterate or thick. Josie seems taken with you, as does Mason,” She inquired nonchalantly.

“Mason?” I question, wondering what on earth he has to do with my interview.

She smiles knowingly, “I think quite highly of that boy and if he likes you then I trust in my gut I will be doing the right thing by hiring you.”

“You’re hiring me because of Mason?” I ask, bewildered.

“No, I’m hiring you because you’ve made an impression on all the people I hold dear to me. I trust my instincts, and I trust my family. I’ll give you a trial week in which Josie can train you. Be here on Monday at eight sharp.”

She stands, and I’m aware that the interview is over. Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, I thank her profusely and leave the office. The door slams behind me and I jump slightly, that was not the kind of interview I was expecting. Josie is stood by the staff room, waiting for me. I walk towards her as she clasps her hands together.

“Well, what did Anna say?”

“I got a trial!” I said, perplexed.

“Why do you look so confused? Did you think you’d bomb it?”

“I think I got it because of Mason,” I hesitated.

“Mason? Why Mason? Why not because of me?” Josie cried, as we walk back through the employee door to be greeted again by the hustle and bustle of the cafe.

I shrug, “She said something along the lines of, ‘if he likes you, then I trust in my gut I’m doing the right thing’ But that makes no sense, Mason can’t possibly like me.”

“Why not?” Came a husky voice from behind me.

My eyes widen in Josie’s direction who smirks at me and picks up a cup as she pretends to busy herself wiping it. I spin around and Mason is stood right behind me. My cheeks warm and I just know I’m blushing red. He runs a hand through his luscious hair and I just stare at his beard, not wanting to look him in the eyes for fear of blushing even more. I can feel the heat on my cheeks; it’s making me want to slather myself in foundation.

“Erm,” I stutter. “Well, we don’t even know each other.”

Mason smiles, “I told you a couple of weeks ago that I wanted to talk.”

I remembered. Two weeks since I cried all over him. God, I wanted to shrivel up and become nonexistent. Two weeks of being able to avoid him under the excuse of ‘decorating’ and ‘moving in’. Well, the B&B had been well and truly ‘moved in’ to and I had no more excuses to avoid him.

“I’ve been busy,” I shrug, trying to contain my nerves. My stomach was shot today, I needed a lie down.

Or a gin.

“But you’re not busy anymore?” Mason grinned and I can’t help but smile back. He was infectious.

“Maybe not, but I start work here soon.”

“Great, I love Blossoms’, I come here most days,” He teased.

“You do?” I faltered.

Mason edges closer to me, we are now so close I’m sure he can hear my heart beating out my chest. Not out of fear, though. Stood right here, I did not feel afraid of Mason. I felt afraid of the feelings he brought out in me.

Damn, I was horny.

Mason smirks, “-and now that you’re working here I think I’ve found an excuse to come a lot more often.”

Curse my feminine hormones. Men were not supposed to make me feel this way. I took a deep breath in through my nose and sent a small smile in Mason’s direction, side stepping past him I placed my hand gently on his chest, growing more confident in myself by the minute.

“I look forward to it,” I teased.

I walk past, my heart threatening to leap out of my chest. I don’t look back, I push the door to the cafe open and let the fresh air calm me down. Standing by the fountain, I let my hair out of its tight bun, feeling it cascade down my neck and resting in the middle of my back. Was I just flirting? Did I just flirt with a man instead of cowering away in fear? I smile to myself, but replace myself thinking back to mum.

What would she say? Would she think I was being foolish? Letting my guard down?

-and was she right? Would I regret letting Mason in? I refused to let him cloud my judgement, but when I looked at him...

I was surrounded by fog.