When Alice Met Danny (3 page)

Alice thanked him. As an afterthought struck her, she turned back. ‘Would you be able to give me the name of a good surveyor? Maybe some builders too?’

‘Of course, Ms Grant, you can count on me. And –’ he caught her eye, ‘– I know some very good industrial cleaners.’

Oh dear
, she thought to herself as she set off down the road,
what have I got myself into
?

She discovered the answer to that question less than five minutes later. Lyndhurst Avenue was a charming street, just as Mr Melhuish had told her. The rows of mellow late Victorian houses curved gently down towards the river at the end. Beyond that, a steep hill sloped sharply up to the observatory at the top. The pavements were clear and clean, the houses smart and well looked after. All except number 23.

‘Oh my God.’ She couldn’t stop herself. Her hand shot up to her mouth, but not before she had groaned out loud. A lady with a spaniel on a lead looked across the road at her in concern. Alice ignored her, totally riveted by the apparition before her.

‘Oh, no.’

The front gardens were little more than narrow strips. Whereas all the other houses had filled theirs with flowers and bushes, or at least slabs or gravel, number 23 was a heap of junk. And not just a small heap. The pile of rubbish completely obliterated any view those in the front room might have got. She leant up against the window and peered through the grubby glass. The inside mirrored the outside. The room was packed with an impenetrable wall of stuff.

‘Pretty grim, eh?’ Alice jumped at the sound of the voice. It was the lady with the spaniel. She had crossed the street. ‘You were looking a bit upset, so I thought I’d come over and ask if everything’s all right.’

‘Oh, thank you. That’s very kind.’ She was a friendly-looking lady, who appeared to be in her seventies. Alice did her best to sound positive. ‘Everything’s fine, thank you. At least, I think so…’ Her voice tailed off as she paused, uncertain how or whether to continue.

‘You poor thing.’ The old lady’s eyes were fixed on the key in Alice’s hand. ‘Have you bought this place?’

Alice nodded miserably.

‘Well, you’ll certainly have your work cut out here, no doubt about it.’ Seeing the look of desperation on Alice’s face, she did her best to offer support. ‘But it’ll all work out, you’ll see. Are you going to be all right now?’

Alice collected herself. ‘Yes, thank you. Thank you very much. And I’m Alice, by the way.’

‘Joyce Parker from number 44. Just come and bang on the door if you need anything.’ She gave a cheery wave and set off with the dog once more.

Alice pushed the key into the rusty lock. The paintwork alongside it was greasy with accumulated filth. The key turned surprisingly easily and she pushed it open. The door soon came up against an immovable obstacle and stopped. She stuck her head round the edge and made two discoveries. First, the hall was filled from top to bottom with piles of old newspapers and cardboard boxes. Second, the smell in there was absolutely overpowering. She whipped her head back outside again, desperately blowing the infected air from her lungs. It smelt like a long-dead corpse. Or at least what she imagined a long-dead corpse might smell like. She came very close to vomiting as she recoiled away and slumped down on the low brick wall.

‘You poor thing.’

For a moment she thought Joyce Parker from number 44 had come back. She half-turned. Instead, she saw a friendly-looking younger woman, holding a little baby, standing in the doorway next door. They exchanged glances.

‘Just been inside, have you?’ She gave Alice a gentle smile.

‘Only my nose, but that was enough.’ If the other woman hadn’t been there, Alice would have cleared her throat and spat on the ground. As it was, she burrowed in her bag for a mint. She took one and offered the packet. The other woman shook her head.

‘You look as if you could do with a cup of tea.’

Alice gave her a grateful nod. ‘Anything to get rid of that smell.’

‘Come on in.’ Alice walked back out onto the pavement and along to the next-door gate. The woman ushered her inside. It was a cosy house. There were toys on a sheet on the lounge floor and a huge stockpile of disposable nappies behind the kitchen door.

‘Hello. I’m Vicky. And this little bundle of joy is Daniel. Do have a seat. Do I presume you are the brave person who has bought the loony lady’s house?’ She filled the kettle and turned it on with one experienced hand, while the other still clutched the child.

‘Wrong adjective, I’m afraid. I’m the stupid person. No bravery at all. My name is Alice Grant. Thanks for taking me in.’

‘Why stupid, Alice?’ The little child had fixed Alice with a steady and slightly unnerving stare. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

‘I committed the cardinal sin of buying it online, without coming to see it.’ She snorted in exasperation. ‘And I thought I was a pretty canny sort of person.’

‘Do you want to hang onto Danny for a moment? He’s being a bit grouchy. I’ll just make the tea.’ Alice didn’t have much experience with little children but, before she could put up any sort of objection, Vicky had passed the baby across. She took him gingerly. The child turned towards her and stared hard into her eyes. Alice could see that he was debating whether to bawl the house down. She surprised herself by bending her head towards him and kissing his cheek noisily, while murmuring something incomprehensible. The baby gave a delighted gurgle and treated her to a toothless smile. She sat back up, stunned by the emergence of this hitherto unsuspected maternal instinct.

‘You’ve got a fan there.’ Vicky poured two mugs of tea and set them on the table while the little boy continued to beam up at Alice. ‘The house must have come as a bit of a shock to the system. You looked as white as a sheet back there.’

Alice took the tea with a grateful smile. ‘Thanks. It certainly was a shock. And then there was the smell. It positively reeks.’ She caught Vicky’s eye. ‘You don’t think there’s a dead body in there, do you?’

She got a broad smile in return. ‘No, definitely not. There would be no space for a body to fit in there. Have you seen the piles of rubbish everywhere?’

Somewhat reassured, Alice decided to see how much information she could elicit. ‘So what’s the story, Vicky? Who is – was – the loony lady?’

‘Mary Browning. That’s her name. I’ve only been here since last summer, but my landlord told me all about her. He and his wife lived here for ten years before that and she had already been living here for a good while. When they moved in, she was almost normal, but she went downhill very fast.’

‘What does “almost normal” mean?’ Alice found she was enjoying the feel of the little baby in her arms.

‘Well, they said there were already piles of rubble and rocks in the garden, but the house was reasonably uncluttered. Over the next few years the garden turned into a disaster area. You haven’t seen it yet? You’ll see what I mean when you go round the back. Then it was the turn of the house. She started hoarding stuff until it got like it is today.’ She looked across at Alice. ‘To be honest, that’s why I managed to get this house at a decent rent. Nobody wanted to live next to her.’

‘So what’s causing the smell? Surely it’s more than just dirt?’

Vicky wrinkled her face and gave an embarrassed cough. ‘I’m afraid it’s much, much more than just dirt.’ Seeing that Alice still hadn’t twigged, she found herself obliged to spell it out. ‘The men from the council who came to take her away told me her bathroom was packed solid with junk. Nobody could get into it. So she had no toilet. She had to store everything in the house.’

‘You mean, the house is full of poo?’ Hearing the tone of her voice, the little boy stopped smiling and wriggled. Absentmindedly, Alice kissed him again and he settled down.

‘Last autumn she started dumping it in the back alley. Then she started pouring it onto Lyndhurst Avenue. That was when we called the Environmental Health people.’ She looked up in annoyance. ‘And you know what they said? If you or I were to go out in the street and pee in the middle of the road, we would be committing an offence.’

Alice shrugged her shoulders in agreement.

‘But, if you pee in your own home and then take it out and pour it on a public highway, that’s not illegal. It goes back to medieval times.’

‘Oh, dear Lord, so how did you get her out?’

‘Shortly after that, last winter, she started pouring the stuff,’ she was looking embarrassed now, ‘and I’m not just talking about pee, over the walls into the gardens along the back lane, mine included. The council put up a closed circuit camera and caught her in the act. Well, a number of acts to be honest.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Not nice at all. Anyway, as a result, she was sectioned and removed.’

The little boy had closed his eyes by this time and was drifting off to sleep. Vicky nodded approvingly. ‘Sorry it’s an unpleasant shock for you. But for me it’s wonderful to find that the place is finally going to be cleaned up. And, the fact that the developer is a talented childminder is an added bonus. Danny will be very pleased to see you again. Have you got kids of your own?’

Alice shook her head. ‘No, not yet.’ No sooner had she said it than she found herself wondering why she had used the word “yet”. ‘I’ve been working in London since I left uni. This is the start of my new life.’ Her eyes flicked over in the direction of the dividing wall. ‘Although I didn’t really expect it to start in a house full of poo.

Chapter 6

Alice found accommodation for the night in a charming little bed & breakfast, located in the village of Woodcombe, only a few miles out of town. It was called Drake Cottage. She received a warm welcome from the elderly lady owner. The room was spacious and clean, with a view out over the well-kept back garden to the fields beyond. A young black Labrador was wandering round outside, sniffing the bushes.

‘This is a lovely room, Mrs Tinker. Am I your only guest tonight?’

‘I’m glad you like it, my dear. I only have the one room now. I used to take up to four or five, but it’s too much work for me now. I’m just glad to have the company from time to time.’

‘Is that your dog out there?’ Alice loved the garden and the countryside views.

‘That’s Danny. He’s still a youngster, but he’s a very good dog. Do you have a dog yourself?’

Alice reflected for a moment that she had now been asked if she had a child and a pet, both in the same day. Did this mean that fate was somehow trying to get her to settle down? And a dog and a child with the same name? This reminded her of the other Danny, who would be moving into her London flat in two weeks’ time. Hopefully he wouldn’t pee on any plants. She smiled at the thought.

‘No, we had a cat when I was growing up, but I don’t know much about dogs.’

‘Well, if you want to come down for a cup of tea once you’ve settled in, I’ll introduce you to him.’

When Alice had opened her bag and hung a few things in the wardrobe, she went back down the stairs. Mrs Tinker was waiting at the kitchen door.

‘Come in here, my dear. It’s warmer by the Aga.’

The kitchen was indeed very cosy. The old range heated the room to a very comfortable temperature. As Alice walked in, the black dog climbed out of his wicker basket and trotted over to say hello. Alice hesitated, unused to dogs and a bit afraid of such a big animal. She stopped dead and pressed her hands nervously against her sides while the dog sniffed her.

Mrs Tinker saw her discomfort. ‘Danny, come back here and leave Alice alone.’ The dog turned away as he heard the call and returned to his mistress. ‘That’s a good boy. Now lie down in your basket and leave the lady alone.’ She stroked his head affectionately and then pointed towards the wicker basket. The dog did as instructed. Alice was impressed.

‘You’ve got him well-trained already.’

‘That’s Labs for you. Give them food and they’ll do anything you ask. I dare say I could get him to play the piano if I had a few spare joints of beef. Now, how do you take your tea?’

Mrs Tinker gave her a key to the front door. As she handed it over, she winked. ‘But if you should forget it, I never lock the back door. Well, apart from at night, of course.’

Alice looked up in surprise. ‘But aren’t you afraid of burglars?’

‘I’ve lived in this house for over sixty years without anything happening to me. Woodcombe’s a safe place to live. It’s not like London here, you know.’

They sat and chatted. Alice learned that the village pub, the King’s Arms, served good food. And it was only a few minutes’ walk from the house. She resolved to eat there that evening. The conversation turned to Alice’s reasons for being in Devon. Uncomfortably, she related the story of the house in Lyndhurst Avenue. Mrs Tinker was appalled.

‘I’ve never heard anything like it. How could somebody behave like that? You poor thing.’

‘It’s my own fault, Mrs Tinker. If I hadn’t been so stupid as to buy the place without viewing it, I wouldn’t be in this pickle now.’

‘How were you to know? Really!’ She couldn’t believe it. ‘And you were planning on moving in there yourself?’

‘Well, not immediately. I knew there would be a lot of work to be done first. The agents’ particulars made it clear that it needed complete refurbishment.’

Mrs Tinker was clearly relieved. ‘So, are you going back to London, or are you going to stay down here while the work takes place? Chocolate Hobnob?’ She pushed the packet across the table. A black shadow materialised at Alice’s side. Mournful brown eyes gazed upwards. As Alice took each bite of the biscuit, she felt the dog’s eyes trained on her.

‘Don’t mind Danny. He knows he never gets food off the table, but he tries it on with newcomers. Just ignore him.’

Alice swallowed the last piece and sensed an immediate drop in interest from the floor. She washed it down with a mouthful of tea. ‘I have to go back on Friday, but my plan is to look around for a little place to rent for a few months, while the work gets done.’ She reflected for a moment. ‘Now that I’ve seen the place, I would imagine we are talking about quite a few months.’ She looked round the comfortable kitchen. ‘I don’t suppose I could stay here for six months?’