06 Educating Jack by Jack Sheffield Page B

display of his new range of
Snow White
garden gnomes and Happy was very close to being seriously disconcerted.
    ‘Any road, our Nora said t’come ’ere fust t’get settled in like,’ said Lofthouse.
    ‘Er, yes,’ said Timothy without enthusiasm. Lofthouse had never been the tidiest of guests. ‘Ah’ve put yer in t’second bedroom wi’ m’Meccano set.’
    Just before five o’clock Vera and I buttoned up our coats and walked out of school to Nora’s Coffee Shop. A steady stream of villagers and distant members of the Pratt family were ahead of us and Heathcliffe Earnshaw, outside the brightly lit shop window of Pratt’s Hardware Emporium, was not one to miss an opportunity.
    ‘Penny for t’guy
please
, Miss Evans, Mr Sheffield?’ said Heathcliffe politely. A very realistic-looking guy in a baggy blue boiler suit, cardboard mask, Wellington boots and an incongruous pair of worn-out oven gloves was slumped in a wheelbarrow next to him. However, the guy lacked a hat, which would have hidden Jimmy Poole’s distinctive head of curly ginger hair.
    Vera opened her purse and put a five-pence piece in the tin offered by little Terry Earnshaw. ‘Well done, boys,’ she said. ‘That’s a wonderful guy … very realistic.’
    I rummaged in my pocket and added a ten-pence piece. ‘I thought Jimmy might be helping you,’ I said.
    There was a movement of black-button eyes behind the mask. ‘’E’s busy, Mr Sheffield,’ said Heathcliffe quickly … and, of course, truthfully.
    Nora Pratt was daydreaming when Vera and I approached the counter. She was secretly in love with the television sports presenter Des Lynam, even though she had no interest in football and thought Aston Villa was a stately home. With his white jacket and a black shirt unbuttoned to reveal his hairy chest, he looked the perfect man. His moustache was the final
pièce de résistance
and Nora wondered if it tickled when you kissed him.
    This was going through her mind as I approached the counter. ‘Two coffees please, Nora,’ I said. ‘And congratulations.’
    ‘That’s weally appweciated, Mr Sheffield,’ said Nora.
    ‘You look lovely,’ said Vera. ‘A beautiful dress.’
    ‘Thank you, Miss Evans,’ said Nora.
    A copy of
Woman
magazine was open on the counter and I glanced down at an old photograph of the elegant and beautiful film star, Grace Kelly.
    ‘Ah feel so sowwy for ’im,’ said Nora sadly.
    ‘Who’s that, Nora?’ I asked.
    ‘Pwince Wainier of Monaco,’ said Nora, ‘after Pwincess Gwace died. Ah saw ’er in that ’Itchcock film,
Wear Window
.’ She passed over two cups of steaming froth. ‘An’ enjoy y’fwothy coffee … on the ’ouse.’
    We took our drinks to a corner table and sat down. Vera attempted one cautious sip and then pushed the cup to one side. ‘Oh dear,’ she said and we settled back to enjoy a half hour of people-watching.
    * * *
    Nora’s distant upmarket cousin from Harrogate, Veronica Pratt, had approached the counter with her usual haughty disposition.
    ‘’Ello Vewonica,’ said Nora.
    ‘Good evening, Nora,’ said Veronica, known as ‘Veggie-Ve’ in the family.
    ‘Ah y’still a vegetawian?’ asked Nora.
    ‘I’ve become a vegan,’ said Veronica rather primly.
    It crossed Nora’s mind that it sounded like a planet in
Star Trek
. ‘Well ’ave a bit o’ salmon.’
    ‘I don’t eat anything with a face,’ said Veronica.
    Dorothy stopped rearranging the display of rock buns. ‘Do fish ’ave faces?’ she asked.
    ‘Yes, they do, young lady,’ said Veronica.
    ‘Well, ’ow about some nice ’am if ah slice it reight thin?’ asked Dorothy, trying to be helpful. Veggie-Ve was unimpressed and ignored the offer.
    After much deliberation, she selected a mushroom omelette sprinkled with grated Wensleydale cheese and Nora went off to put it under the grill.
    Milburn and Gwendolin Pratt, who ran a bed-and breakfast in Bridlington, were sitting next to the juke-box. Both had removed