The Pharmacist

Jack Priestly studied his wife as she stacked the dishwasher in the kitchen of their new home. At forty-seven, Sarah was still a beautiful woman, slim and small framed with a pretty heart-shaped face, blue eyes and blonde hair. She was the first to admit that these days the hair colour received some help from a bottle, and her figure was maintained only through regular exercise and a good diet. Sarah was nothing short of Jack’s ideal wife, and he was every bit as much in love with her now as when she’d first captured his heart over twenty years ago.

Being a policeman’s wife wasn’t always easy, but Sarah was supportive, accepting of his often unpredictable schedule, and a great listener whenever he needed to offload his feelings. Jack knew how fortunate he was in this regard; he’d seen too many colleagues’ marriages fail through the job’s pressure, too many wives feeling like second fiddle to the force and too many children used as pawns in bitter divorces.

Fulfilled by her role as a wife and mother, Jack knew that any ambitions Sarah may once have cherished in her youth were willingly superseded by her marriage to him and the birth of their two sons, Jake and Dan. With neither Jack nor Sarah driven by materialism, money was never a primary issue to the family, and as long as there was enough to live comfortably, they were content. Sarah delighted in being a ‘stay at home mum’ when the boys were young, and even as they grew and needed her less, homemaking was still her priority. When their sons attended primary school, she volunteered in the classroom, which she continued long after both the boys had left for senior school.

Even now, after only six weeks in their new home, Sarah was already involved in another voluntary position in a local nursing home, The Elms, a job she already loved. Jack was proud of her altruistic nature and often felt that she was too good for him, but he appreciated his good fortune and tried to care for her the same way she did for him.

Moving to Penrith was a huge step for Jack and Sarah, but one they’d carefully considered for many months beforehand and now embraced with enthusiasm, relishing the potential such a new beginning afforded. Of course, it was a whole world away from Leeds, where the couple had spent all of their married life. But then, that was one of the area’s chief attractions and here they’d found the tranquillity they’d been seeking

Even the air in Penrith tasted different, cleaner and woodier somehow, a scent Jack was already beginning to appreciate. Leeds did, of course, hold its attractions, the nightlife was second to none, and Sarah loved to shop in the city centre, yet they were ready for a change of pace and Penrith certainly ticked the box on that score.

With an approximate population of 16,000, Penrith was far from a sleepy backwater and, in Jack’s opinion, was located close to some of the UK’s most stunning scenery. It was their long-held dream to move near the Lake District, escape the city’s noise and grime and live at a more leisurely, pace, and now it had become a reality.

Their sons had also relocated further north in recent years, which became the deciding factor for Jack and Sarah. Jake, their elder son, lived in Carlisle with his girlfriend, Grace, and worked for the police as a civilian at divisional headquarters. He did something with computers that Jack couldn’t even begin to understand, but which Jake found totally absorbing. Dan, a year younger, was at medical school in Edinburgh, both places so much more accessible from Penrith than Leeds.

Jack was a proud father. In a world he often viewed from the very lowest level, Jake and Dan had both turned out well. However, he did give credit for this to Sarah, their needs always took precedence over her own, and there was no doubt she was the glue that held their family together.

The cottage they’d discovered and subsequently bought on the town’s outskirts was also a dream come true. It was a home with character and charm, stone floors, exposed beams – the whole package and a place which delighted them both. The downstairs rooms still boasted the original rough lime plaster, restored sympathetically over the years. Sarah loved the look and was unconcerned at the challenge it presented to her husband each time she asked him for more shelves or to hang pictures. Jack had already nearly ruined the chimney wall when attempting to hang a large oval mirror, one of Sarah’s antique shop finds, as the plaster proved too fragile to hold the weight. An original inglenook fireplace was a feature they both loved and was now fitted out with a new log-burning stove, for convenience yet in keeping with the room.

Having worked tirelessly to restore the cottage in the few weeks they’d been in residence, only the garden was left to tackle. Sarah required nothing less than an old English cottage garden, which Jack knew would be amazing when his wife set to work. Their friends in Leeds joked that they would need masses of room for the many visitors they’d inevitably receive, and Jack countered that he’d keep their new address a secret.

Jack was in no doubt that their move was the right decision. At work, night time call-outs were much less frequent, allowing him to spend more time with Sarah, who appreciated his regular hours. When not visiting their sons, weekends off were spent exploring their new locality, long leisurely walks, discovering new places to eat and visiting local attractions.

At forty-eight, Jack was almost certain that this would be his last post in the police force, although he viewed impending retirement with mixed feelings. Sarah laughingly suggested he could become a private investigator. He quickly pointed out that there was minimal call for a PI in a town as small as Penrith or the surrounding area and that perhaps she read too many novels. Various hobbies were mooted by some of his new and helpful colleagues now that they’d got the measure of their new boss and discovered him to be approachable, with an effortless sense of humour. Pigeon racing, woodturning, and breeding ferrets were a few of the more repeatable suggestions – but Jack wasn’t a hobby kind of man. He was a policeman through and through, devoted to the job, a devotion which only his family trumped.

For now, however, there was work to be done. Jack would worry about retirement in due course. He kissed his wife goodbye and set out on the short drive to Hunter’s Lane, notching up the police station’s proximity as another plus in his new life.