When Alice Met Danny Page 2

  ‘What do you think?’ Her voice echoed through the flat.

  He returned to the living room. She had left the computer and was in the kitchen, making tea. He glanced at the screen. There was a pretty, red-brick terraced house for sale with a guide price of less than a hundred thousand. He gawped. The same house around here would be closer to half a million. Alongside the keyboard he saw that she had opened the letter from Nigel. She had tucked it back into the envelope again. He found himself hoping desperately that it would be sufficient for her to be able to keep the flat and rent it to him.

  ‘Afraid I haven’t got any biscuits.’ She reappeared with two mugs of tea. ‘If I had them in the house I would only end up eating them. Just because I’m unemployed, I don’t intend to slob out on the sofa.’

  She looked, as ever, utterly gorgeous. He risked a compliment. ‘I can’t imagine you as anything remotely resembling a slob. You always look fantastic.’

  Her head jerked up. That sounded remarkably like a compliment. Mind you, she thought to herself, he’s probably just trying to cheer me up. She kept her tone light. ‘A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.’

  He did his best not to think of either her lips or her hips. He turned his attention to the laptop and pointed at an address on the screen. ‘See that? Beauchamp-by-the-Sea, I know that place. Did you know the locals pronounce it “Beecham”? It’s got a lovely sandy beach. Good for windsurfing, if you’re ever interested.’

  She concentrated on the house agents’ blurb. ‘It’s in East Devon. That’s an area of outstanding natural beauty. I like the sound of that.’

  He took a good look at the description of a terraced house. ‘It says here this one is in need of total refurbishment. Are you ready for a bit of DIY?’

  She took a sip of her tea. ‘Do you know, Danny, I think I am. Something physical might be just what I need after years sitting in an office. I know what I’ll do, I’ll buy something in Devon that needs to be refurbished. In the meantime I’ll rent a place down there, so I’m not living in the midst of a building site.’ Happy with her decision, she pointed to the letter on the desk. He was pleased to see her smiling. ‘You can tell Nigel that he was right. It is a good severance package they have offered me. So, Danny, if you want it, this flat is yours. I’ll find out what the going rental rate is and send you an e-mail. OK?’

  He jumped to his feet and extended his hand. ‘It’s a deal. Shake on it?’

  She took his hand. ‘It’s a deal.’

  Chapter 4

  ‘So you bought it without viewing it first?’ Sally was aghast.

  Alice looked a bit sheepish. ‘It was at auction, and it was so very cheap. I thought I’d got nothing to lose.’ In fact, she acknowledged to herself, she had been caught up in auction fever. Although she had registered, she had only intended to view the different lots as they went under the hammer. But then when this one had appeared for so little, she had decided to put in a bid. To her surprise, nobody else had followed, and she was now the owner of a terraced house in East Devon.

  ‘So what are you going to do now?’ Sally still sounded very dubious.

  ‘I suppose I’d better go down and take a look at it. Then I’ve got to pay for it. Plus I’ve got to arrange insurance and all that stuff. I suppose I’d better get it surveyed as well. While I’m at it, I could look for a place to rent until the other one is finished.’ She swilled the last of the cappuccino around in her cup before swallowing it. ‘I don’t suppose you fancy a trip to Devon sometime soon?’

  ‘I’d love to, Al, but I’ve got my boys to look after.’ Her boys were two Yorkshire terriers and a husband. ‘If I take Cain and Abel on the train, they’ll probably throw up. Come to think of it, Adam might throw up as well.’

  ‘How is your perfect man?’ Alice had always liked the big, quiet man that Sally had married. For a while they had even tried to set Alice up with his brother, but to no effect. She had always been far too busy.

  ‘My perfect man is no doubt sitting in a fire station somewhere, rubbing baby lotion on his muscular body after rescuing a few old ladies and a pussy cat.’ Her eyes became positively misty before she returned to the real world. ‘As for Adam, he’s fine. He’s joined a gym because he reckons he’s getting a bit porky.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Between you and me, he’s right. Anyway, how about you and men? Any on your radar, now that you’ve got the time to dedicate yourself to their pursuit?’

  ‘I haven’t had time, yet. First things first, I need to get my new life on track. Then I can think about men.’

  ‘What about that tall boy from your office?’ Alice looked blank, so Sally elaborated. ‘You know, the one you introduced me to in that pub that time.’

  ‘You’re going to have to be a good bit more precise, Sal.’

  ‘Tall, blond, good-looking, races yachts or something.’

  The penny dropped. ‘You mean Danny, Danny Kemp. He doesn’t race yachts. At least, I don’t think so. He does a lot of windsurfing, though. And, no, he’s just a friend.’

  ‘A handsome one.’ Sally was doing her best to get Alice fired up.

  ‘I can’t say I’ve noticed.’ That wasn’t strictly true. Only the other day it had occurred to her, but theirs was now a business relationship. ‘Actually, he’s renting my flat from me once I move out.’

  ‘With his bronzed Australian windsurfing girlfriend?’

  ‘Not so far as I know. He says he lives on his own. At least, that’s what he told me.’

  ‘What a waste.’ Sally glanced at her watch. ‘Well, got to go. I dare say you’ll find yourself somebody suitable once you are down among the haystacks. I can see you in a few months’ time, plucking cows, milking chickens…’

  ‘Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.’

  Chapter 5

  Alice rented herself a car from the station at Exeter. Buses to and from Beauchamp-by-the-Sea appeared to be few and far between. She made a mental note to add a car to her shopping list, when the time came to move out of London.

  After threading her way out through the traffic, she soon found herself in the Devon countryside. Easter was approaching and the fields and banks were peppered with daffodils and primroses. The sky was bright blue, the forecast good. She opened a window and breathed deeply. Maybe this change was the right thing at the right time of her life. She felt happier than she had for a long time. This mild euphoria lasted until she reached the offices of the estate agents responsible for the auction.

  ‘All I can say, Ms Grant, is that you are a brave woman. We have been describing number 23 to everybody as “not for the faint-hearted”. I’m glad you did not find it too off-putting.’ Mr Melhuish, of ‘Melhuish, Melhuish and Seymour’, was a charming man with a florid complexion and a taste for tweed suiting. He emerged triumphant from the key cabinet. ‘Here we are, the keys. Or rather, I should say, the key. We only found the one. None of us managed to make it through to the back door to see if there was a key in the door, but you will find that out for yourself.’

  Alice’s expression had moved from surprise to concern by this time. The penny was beginning to drop that there might, after all, be a good reason why there had been no other bidders.

  ‘If you could just give me directions to the house, please.’ She signed the forms he thrust at her. He looked up in surprise.

  ‘You don’t know your way there? Do you mean to say you haven’t seen the house?’ He looked bewildered. She just looked embarrassed.

  ‘Erm, no. You see, I bought in online. Did I do wrong?’ Alice was getting seriously cold feet by this time. ‘Is there something awful about it?’

  Mr Melhuish did his best to reassure her, but she could see that he wasn’t finding it easy. ‘Well, you see, it’s like this. The lady who owned the house was a bit peculiar.’ From the way his eyes rolled, this was clearly a considerable understatement. ‘She has since been put into a home where they can look after her. The sale was all done through the local authority to fund her care
. You see, she wasn’t what you might call a good householder.’

  Alice felt her spirits fall even lower.

  He attempted a smile and some encouragement. ‘It’s a good little house, in a lovely position. Once you’ve got it cleared out and refurbished, I’m sure you’ll find it just splendid. I’ve got friends in Lyndhurst Avenue. They all love it there.’ He eased her towards the door. ‘Anyway, it’s easy to find. Turn left, go straight along this street for a few hundred yards and you’ll find Lyndhurst Avenue off to your right. Number 23 is down there on the left. Five minutes and you’ll be there.’

  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 twig
ged, 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.’