When Alice Met Danny (7 page)

Alice’s face turned green.

‘And buckets and buckets of what they called “solids”.’

‘Oh, dear God.’ Alice pulled out a tissue and blew her nose in distaste. In the distance she heard a plaintive wail.

‘There’s Danny. He’s had his after-lunch sleep and he’s woken up. He probably heard your voice and wants to say hello.’ Vicky went off and returned with the little boy in her arms. He was red in the face and a bit cranky. She handed him over to Alice, who took him readily.

‘Hello Danny, I was thinking about you the other day.’ She smiled down at him, while reaching into her bag with her other hand. She looked across at Vicky. ‘I saw this in a shop in London the other day and couldn’t resist it. Here.’ She passed the little package across. Inside was a tiny sweat shirt with a big D on front and back. ‘It’s a little thank you for the life-saving cup of tea last week.’ She looked back at the little boy who decided to give her a big smile. In an instant she forgot her woes and burrowed her face into his tummy. He chortled.

‘Thank you, it’s sweet, but you shouldn’t have.’ Vicky placed a mug of tea in front of her and a packet of biscuits. As they chatted, Alice took one and nibbled it. She was tickled to see that the baby’s eyes followed her hand each time she raised it to her mouth, just like the Labrador. These two very different Dannys had that in common. She wondered for a moment if the two grown-up Dannys held strong views on biscuits. This thought, too, helped to raise her morale.

‘So what do you do, Vicky?’ Alice asked, and noted a cloud cross the younger woman’s face for a moment.

‘You’re looking at him. This little chap is keeping me fully occupied at present.’ There was a soft note to her voice, but there was something more underneath. She looked up at Alice. ‘And I love him to bits. But, to be honest, as soon as I can, I’d like to go back to university.’

Alice gave her a smile. ‘That’s a coincidence. I had exactly the same thought. What would you want to study?’

Vicky looked happier now. ‘A teaching qualification. I think I’d enjoy teaching. I did a languages degree here at Exeter a few years back. I’d really like to try teaching French and German.’ The cloud crossed her face again. ‘And I’m probably going to need the money. What about you?’

Alice noted her discomfort, but made no comment. ‘I’m thinking of history. Maybe try to get in to do an MA.’ She swallowed the last piece of her biscuit and reached for her tea.

The little boy, obviously tired of watching people eat and drink, extended his hands towards his mother and let out a squeal. Vicky gave him a tender smile. ‘You’ve only just had lunch, you know?’ She glanced up at Alice, a wistful look in her eye. ‘Just like his dad. Always eating.’

Chapter 13

Over the weekend, Alice settled down to research the First World War. She pulled out her laptop and set it up on the little table in her bedroom, looking out onto the garden. Since her last visit, the sunny weather had brought out more and more leaves and flowers. The garden looked fuller, the hedges thicker. She gazed out at the scene from time to time as she tried to take in the facts she read. Apart from ordering a couple of books on the war, she read her way through a number of websites dedicated to it. They made for sobering reading. The casualties were of epic proportions: sixteen million dead and twenty million wounded. For the first time, slaughter had been on an industrial scale.

As the sun dropped lower towards the horizon, she heard Mrs Tinker calling up to offer a cup of tea. She shut the laptop and headed downstairs, her mood darkened by her reading. There was no doubt in her mind, however, she was getting more and more interested in that period.

A mug of tea and packet of biscuits stood on the table. The Labrador came over to greet her and accompanied her to her seat. He had already worked out that the chocolate Hobnobs were on the table. He sat down beside Alice and studied her every move. Today, however, she resisted the temptation.

‘So have you been having a little snooze?’ Mrs Tinker gave her a knowing look. Alice had returned from Beauchamp at four and it was now almost seven o’clock. ‘Tired after the journey down, I expect.’

‘No, that’s not it. You see, I promised myself, once I was settled in Devon, I would see if I could get a place at university to do an MA.’ She looked up, still trying to come to terms with the horrors she had read. ‘I’m thinking about going for the First World War.’ She took a mouthful of tea. ‘It’s a fascinating, if deeply sad period.’

‘Ah, the Great War. That’s what my dad always called it. It only became the First World War after 1939. Of course, the men who came home from the war in 1918 couldn’t have imagined that Europe would be stupid enough to start a second one so soon afterwards.’ Mrs Tinker gave a sigh. ‘My uncle Tony was killed quite early on.’

Alice nodded, remembering seeing the name Corporal A. J. Tinker on the Woodcombe war memorial.
Of course, A for Anthony
.

Mrs Tinker went on, a faraway look in her eyes as she scoured her memory. ‘My dad was one of the lucky ones. He had TB as a child. They wouldn’t take him for the trenches.’

‘I bet he was grateful.’

Mrs Tinker looked up, an expression of incomprehension on her face. ‘Anything but, Alice. All his life he regretted the fact that he hadn’t done his bit, as he put it. The fact that he would almost definitely have been killed didn’t come into it.’ She shook her head sadly, a tear in her eye.

Alice reached across and laid her hand on hers. Her mother had died several years ago and she had never known her father. Somehow this old lady would make a wonderful surrogate grandma, if not mum. She gave her hand a squeeze.

‘Still, if he had gone off to war, you probably wouldn’t be here now.’ Mrs Tinker shot her a weak smile, pulled herself together and stood up.

‘If you’ve got a moment, there’s something through here that might interest you.’ She led Alice into the sitting room, where there was a bookcase along one wall. Mrs Tinker pointed to the bottom shelf. It was filled with volumes about the Great War. ‘Those belonged to my father. He read all of them. It’s a shame he’s no longer with us. He would have been able to answer all your questions about that time.’

Alice stared, wide-eyed, at the hoard of books, then looked up at Mrs Tinker. ‘Do you think I could read some of these? It’s an amazing collection.’

‘Of course you can. Take as many as you like. He would be pleased to know that you young ones are still interested after all these years.’

They returned to the warmth of the kitchen. It had been chilly in the other room. With clear skies, the nights were still cold, although spring was bursting out all over.

Alice went down to the King’s Arms for dinner. She told herself sternly that once she had got her own house, she would have to stop eating out. What was it she had said to Danny about slobbing out?

She brought her iPad with her to the pub, anxious to carry on with her research. She ordered a mineral water and a salad.
Just because I’m in a pub, it doesn’t mean I can’t still have good, healthy food
, she told herself. She checked her e-mails, but there was just the invoice for the clean-up at number 23 Lyndhurst Avenue. As the surveyor had said, it was more than expected, but she had no regrets.

The pub was crowded and she recognised a few of the faces around her from the previous times she had been there. There was no sign of the vicar or Daniel Tremayne, but a couple of young men gave her welcoming smiles. She began to feel a bit more cheerful. The fact that they were all ten or fifteen years younger than her gave her a lift. Maybe there was life in the old dog yet. Thought of the old dog made her think of Danny the Labrador. He really was a good dog. She was smiling at his memory when her iPad bleeped. It was an e-mail from Sally.

Hi Alice

I hope you don’t get this email until tomorrow because you are out with your handsome vicar tonight. Make sure you don’t tire him out too much. Tomorrow is his busiest day of the week, after all.

If you do get this tonight, you have my sympathy. The man must be gay or an idiot to ignore you. Mind you, life on a vicar’s stipend isn’t going to be easy, so cast your net wider. Remember what they say about fish in the sea.

XXX

Sal

Alice smiled as she read the message. She ordered a herbal tea and decided she had better set the record straight.

Thanks for thinking of me, Sal, and, no, I’m not out with the vicar. Which is probably just as well as she is a very nice lady called Megan. My mystery man isn’t the vicar after all. He’s the local landowner and he’s very handsome. You never know, I might get a ride on his tractor yet.

XXX

Alice

She debated for a minute whether to remove the tractor remark but, in the end, left it. Sally would only come out with it or something similar or smuttier otherwise. She pressed
Send
and found herself wondering how Daisy the cow was getting on.

Chapter 14

Alice met the surveyor on Monday afternoon. She was greatly relieved upon entering the house to find the chemical smell almost gone. More importantly, the smell upstairs was far less noticeable than before. Nevertheless, Peter picked it up immediately.

‘I’m going to draw up a list of action I feel needs to be taken to render this place habitable. I think it would be wise to rip up the floorboards in both bedrooms and the bathroom and replace them. It won’t be a major expense and it will get rid of any lingering memories of the former owner.’ He caught her eye and they both grimaced.

‘And the ceilings down below?’ Alice knew the answer before he said it.

‘They’ll have to come down. The plaster in the dining room looks as if it’s only being held in place by the donkey’s breakfast.’

‘Donkey’s breakfast?’ This was a new one to Alice. He gave her a smile.

‘Sorry, the proper name is woodchip wallpaper. Builders always refer to it as donkey’s breakfast because it’s made up of wheat and chaff between two layers of paper. It’s gone out of fashion these days so if you replace the ceilings you won’t have to worry about stripping it off.’

They walked around the house and decided to remove the back wall of the dining room and open it into the kitchen, making a good-sized kitchen diner. Upstairs Peter came up with the idea of splitting the big bedroom and creating a new, smaller bathroom. By so doing, the former bathroom became bedroom number three. He brought in a ladder and climbed into the roof space. Alice left him to get on with it. His parting words were that he would e-mail her his surveyor’s report before the end of the week.

It was another fine, dry day so, after he’d gone, Alice decided to leave her car outside the house and walk into town along the river. The footpath snaked down through the trees until the river widened and ran out into the sea. At this point she turned off onto the promenade and walked along, parallel to the beach. There were a few hardy souls sitting out in the chilly April sunshine. A host of dogs more or less supervised by their owners were having a wonderful time running and playing. Alice wondered whether Danny the dog ever came down here. A few windsurfers were out, but the gentle breeze was not really enough to power them. She paused to read a poster attached to a lamp post.

UK Windsurfing Competition Weekend

Beauchamp-by-the-Sea

14
^th
to 17
^th
June 2013

She looked back out to sea. The few hesitant learners out there were definitely not going to be taking part in that competition.

‘Hello again, Alice. Are you having your afternoon constitutional?’

She wheeled round. It was Megan, the vicar of Woodcombe.

Alice noticed that the vicar was dressed in sailing boots and a waterproof jacket. She had a bit of colour in her face and looked all the better for it. ‘Hello, Megan, have you been sailing? Is that your hobby?’

‘Well, I do enjoy messing about in boats, when I get the chance, but this afternoon I’ve been working.’ Alice gave her a quizzical look, so Megan explained. ‘One of my parishioners died a couple of weeks back. He asked for his ashes to be scattered at sea, so we’ve been out doing that this afternoon.’ She clapped her hands together. ‘It’s pretty chilly out there on the water.’

‘Would a cup of tea and a cake warm you up?’ Alice pointed across the road to the Sea View Café. ‘My treat.’

‘I like the sound of that. Thank you, Alice, I would love to.’

They crossed the road and managed to get a table by the window. The view along the beach to the red cliffs beyond was delightful.

‘So, how are things?’ Megan sat back and enjoyed the warmth in there.

‘Good. Very good, in fact.’ Alice went on to tell her what the surveyor had said. ‘All in all, it doesn’t look like there’s anything too wrong with the house structurally. But he says it is definitely dry rot. He’ll get a firm in to give an estimate for treating it. It sounds like we’ll have to do quite a bit of replastering, but he says it’s not terminal.’

‘Where’s the house?’

‘Lyndhurst Avenue. Do you know it?’

Megan looked up and nodded. ‘I know it quite well, actually.’

‘It’s a really nice quiet road. I really think I might move in there once it’s finished.’

‘Well, we’ll miss you in Woodcombe if you do. Of course, you could always sell it and buy somewhere in the village.’

Alice had been thinking about that for a few days now. Everybody in Woodcombe was so nice and friendly, but then, so were the neighbours she had met in Lyndhurst Avenue. ‘I know one thing for definite. London has had it, as far as I’m concerned. Wherever I end up, I reckon Devon is the place.’

‘Nobody waiting for you in the big city?’

Alice shook her head. ‘That part of my life is all over now.’

‘What, nobody at all? I thought a lovely girl like you would be fighting them off.’

‘Not that young, Megan. I’m thirty-eight, you know.’

‘You look younger. But, have you really been buried in your job to the exclusion of all else? When’s the last time you went out on a date?’