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When Alice Met Danny Page 8
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A tall man with a shaved head was now standing by Megan’s table. She and he were talking. After a short exchange of conversation, the man came up to the bar. He caught sight of Reg and nodded stiffly. Alice noticed that Reg, stony-faced, totally ignored him. The tall man ordered a pint of lager and a mineral water and took them back to the vicar’s table, where he sat down. Alice looked across at Reg.
‘Do you know who that is?’
Reg never took his eyes off Megan and the other man. ‘Yes, I do.’ There was a pause during which Alice began to despair of getting any more out of him. Then he cleared his throat and continued. ‘Yes, his name is Jack Long; Jacko to his friends, but I’m not sure how many of them he’s got.’
‘You don’t like him, then?’
Reg shook his head. ‘I’ve known him for years. He’s a plasterer. We have worked on sites together. He’s a lying, dishonest little tow rag, and I don’t care who knows it.’
Alice was dismayed. Megan should be told as soon as possible. ‘You don’t think he might have changed, turned over a new leaf, maybe?’
Reg turned towards her. She could see the anger in his face. ‘Only a few months back we had to sort out an old lady’s house after him. He charged the old dear a fortune and did the shoddiest job imaginable. To be honest, Alice, if you hadn’t been sitting here, I would have told him a few home truths. He’s scum. And our Megan’s far too good for the likes of him.’
‘You like her, don’t you, Reg?’
To her amazement, he blushed like a schoolboy. He didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. He drained his glass and stood up. ‘I’d better be moving on. I’ll see you at seven-thirty on Monday morning.’
‘Thanks for the drink. And, Reg –’ he turned back. ‘– I’ll see that she knows. I like her a lot too.’ He gave the ghost of a smile and walked out.
Alice spent the next three quarters of an hour trying to catch Megan’s eye. Her plan would be to steer her towards the Ladies and tell her what Reg had said. Unfortunately, Megan never looked up. Alice ordered a curry and took her time over it, constantly looking across the room. Finally, just after she had finished her meal, things resolved themselves. Jacko got up and left the pub without a backward glance. Only then did Alice manage to catch Megan’s eye and beckon her across.
‘How did it go?’ She noticed that Megan was looking a bit flushed.
‘Not well.’ She sounded deflated. ‘At first he sounded reasonable, looked reasonable and I thought I might be onto a good thing. However, his good behaviour didn’t last. Mucky little man. I won’t be seeing David again.’
‘I think you need something a little stronger than mineral water.’ Alice stood up and pushed her into the seat vacated by Reg. She ordered two glasses of red and returned to the table. She decided not to press Megan for any more detail on “David”. She also decided there was no point in telling her everything Reg had said about him. She just settled for edited highlights.
‘Reg Burrell was here. He knows “David”. First of all, his name isn’t David.’ She saw the shock on Megan’s face. ‘It’s Jacko. Second, Reg says he’s a bad lot and he can’t stand him.’
Megan pulled herself together. ‘Well, that’s something Reggie and I agree on.’
Alice thought of a good way to bolster her confidence. ‘There’s something else you ought to know, Megan. I think you might have made a conquest in Reg.’
‘Reg?’ Alice noticed that Megan’s expression was not quite as surprised as she might have expected.
‘That’s what I said; Reg. But you already knew that, didn’t you?’
Megan had the decency to look a little embarrassed. ‘Well, I’m not sure about the conquest thing, but I sort of thought he might have a bit of a soft spot for me.’
‘Well, why didn’t you do something about it?’
Megan raised her hands in frustration. ‘It’s like I said, Alice. He’s a parishioner.’
‘But only since you arrived.’ Seeing real surprise on Megan’s face this time, she continued. ‘I admitted to him that I wasn’t a churchgoer, sorry Megan, and he admitted the only reason he goes to church is to see you.’
‘The little devil.’ Her expression belied her words. ‘Well, fancy that!’
Alice lifted her glass. ‘I rather think he does.’
Chapter 18
The building work proceeded at a cracking pace. In spite of a very wet and windy start to May, the Burrell brothers, aided by Billy and his quite astonishing muscles, cleared the garden and knocked the dining room wall down in the first week. Alice made a point of being there most mornings, in case they needed a decision on anything, but she soon realised that they were more than qualified to press on and get the job done without any input from her. From then on she limited her visits to the house to three or four times a week, usually armed with doughnuts or biscuits.
One day, while Max was off in the truck, picking up sand, and Billy at the shops buying pasties, Alice had a chance to exchange a few words with Reg on a personal matter. She had been practising just how to broach the subject of Megan for a few days now. She was surprised when he was the first to bring the topic up.
‘Alice, did you tell the vicar about Jacko?’
‘Yes, yes I did. She had already worked out for herself what sort of man he was. She soon sent him packing. He was out of the door by the time I finished my curry.’ She saw a satisfied look on Reg’s face and paused for a moment, trying to remember the lines she had been practising. ‘Reg, I don’t want to intrude on your personal life, but I wondered if you knew that Megan rather likes you.’ Even under a layer of cement dust, she saw him blush.
‘She wouldn’t be interested in the likes of me. She’s a classy woman.’
‘What, not be interested in a tall, handsome self-employed builder whose firm has a wonderful reputation all over the area? I think you’re wrong there, Reg.’ She heard the front door slam as Billy returned. ‘Give her a call, Reg.’ Seeing the fear in his eyes, she added in a stage whisper, ‘Do it.’
Alice often dropped in on Vicky in the house next door and gladly took on the task of childminder. She did this quite a few times over the month of May, so that Vicky could get a bit of peace and quiet, go shopping or get her hair done. She found little Danny a delight. She was soon confidently ensuring that the appropriate food went in one end and dealing with what came out the other in a far more hygienic fashion than his erstwhile next-door neighbour.
There was no sign of Danny’s dad. Vicky never spoke about him. She never used the word husband, although Alice saw that she wore a wedding ring. There were few personal items on display in the house, but she did spot a bundle of letters under a paperweight on the mantelpiece. She often wondered whether they contained the answer to the riddle, but, somehow, she could tell that Vicky did not want to talk about him.
Back home in Woodcombe, she spent more time with the other Danny, the four-legged one. Mrs Tinker developed a pain that kept her awake at nights, and made her very tired. Alice was only too happy to take Danny out for regular walks in her place. As the weeks went by, the Labrador soon accepted her as stand-in pack leader. The gate between the two gardens was left open and Danny became an ever more regular visitor, particularly when the wet weather finally gave way to a blissfully warm spell. Alice kept her back door open and the dog divided his time between the two kitchens. On one occasion she put him in the car and took him to the beach. He had the time of his life, although she was never completely able to remove all the sand from the boot as a result.
One thing she quickly came to realise was that dog-walking is a sociable pastime. She soon got to know a number of people around the village through their dogs. In particular she often met and walked with a woman who lived in a pretty ochre cottage behind the church. The dog, a rescue greyhound, was called Panda because of her unusual markings, but Alice had no idea who the lady was. It was the same with the owners of Spot, Ben and Grenville the portly Basset Hound. Within a few weeks she was
on smiling, nodding and “Good Morning” terms with a number of folk, without having a clue as to their names. One morning, as she was bending down to pick up a packet of tea in the Beauchamp supermarket, she heard a voice.
‘Hello, it’s Danny, isn’t it?’
She straightened up. It was the owner of Panda the greyhound. She was an attractive woman, probably about the same age as Alice. ‘Yes, and I’m Alice.’ She gave her a smile. Somehow, here in the supermarket, it was quite natural to disclose personal details, while out in the fields, conversation was much more general.
‘Mandy. Well, it’s Amanda, but everybody calls me Mandy.’ There was a slightly awkward pause.
‘So, how’s Panda?’
‘She’s fine. And how’s Mrs Tinker?’
Alice had told her how she was a surrogate dog owner while Mrs Tinker was feeling poorly. ‘Not very well, really. The doctor wants her to go the hospital for a scan. I hope it’s nothing serious.’
‘So do I. Listen, Alice, there’s a rather good coffee shop at the back of the store. Would you like a cup of something?’
Alice agreed gladly. Mandy proved to have a wealth of knowledge about the village and its inhabitants. Within minutes, Alice had the full low-down on most of the other dog owners that she ran into from time to time. The discovery that the cheery man who owned Spot the collie was in fact the local undertaker came as a surprise. But Mandy had another surprise in store. ‘You’re using the Burrell brothers, aren’t you?’ Alice nodded. ‘Well, do you know about their boy, Billy?’
‘Billy, the body beautiful?’ Alice smiled. Billy was a bodybuilding fanatic and his muscles were legendary. Reg once remarked that he had ‘...muscles in places where most of us haven’t got places.’
‘That’s him. Did you know he was runner up in the regional Mr Universe finals last year? He’s a local celebrity and much in demand with the girls, I understand.’
‘Well, good for him. I’ll have to remember that if I get lonely.’
‘A pretty girl like you won’t be lonely for long.’
‘That’s funny. A friend in London said the exact same thing to me only the other day. Anyway, now that I’m full time walker for Danny the dog, I’ll never be lonely again.’ As she said it, she found herself wondering whether there might be any romantic prospects in the village. A handsome landowner, for example? She hastily returned to the Burrells. ‘So, is Billy the son of one of them?’
‘Yes, he’s Reggie’s son. You know Reggie’s wife died, don’t you?’
‘No. We never talked about it. What a shame.’
‘She was a nice woman. They used to live in the village, you know.’ Alice nodded. Mandy sat back and studied her. ‘So, what’s your story then, Alice?’
By this time, Alice had got the measure of Mandy. It was pretty clear that she was talking to one of the main founts of gossip in the village, so she chose her words carefully. ‘I’ve bought a house in Beauchamp, and I’m living in the village for a few months until it’s ready.’ Mandy already knew this from their early morning conversations in the doggie field. Clearly, she wanted more.
‘But you’re not from here, are you?’
This seemed safe enough. ‘No, I’ve been living and working in London for the last twenty years.’
‘What were you doing there?’
Alice decided to keep it vague. ‘Finance. You know, insurance and the like.’ Before Mandy could fire off another question, she decided to go on the offensive. ‘And what about you, Mandy? Have you got a family.’
‘No, I’m on my own now,’ there was regret in her voice. ‘since my daughter started university.’
‘Do you work?’
She nodded. ‘Today’s my day off, but I work at the cottage hospital in Beauchamp.’
‘Are you a doctor, then? Or a nurse?’
Mandy shook her head. ‘No, I’m in admin. You’d be surprised how often I find myself dealing with folk from Woodcombe. From what you were saying, I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw Mrs Tinker there one of these days.’
Alice looked at her watch. It was almost eleven o’clock. She had nothing arranged for the rest of the day, but this did not stop her. She really didn’t feel like spending the morning revealing her personal secrets to the local gossip. ‘I’m terribly sorry, Mandy. I’ve got to rush. I’m meeting somebody in town. Lovely talking to you. Bye.’ And she made her getaway.
On her way back to Woodcombe, she rather regretted not asking if Mandy knew anything about Daniel Tremayne. But on reflection, she knew it had been a wise decision. Probably just as well, she said to herself. To somebody with such acute gossip antennae as Mandy, her interest would have immediately been noted, embellished and repeated.
When she got home, she went round to see Mrs Tinker. She found her out of bed, but looking every one of her eighty-seven years. She was wrapped in a blanket, sitting right alongside the Aga, in spite of the spring sunshine outside. Her face was very pale. She gave Alice a weak smile. Danny the dog got up to lick Alice’s hand.
‘Would you like me to make some tea, Mrs Tinker?’
‘That would be nice, dear.’ Alice went over to the sink, washed the dog’s greeting from her hands and made the tea. Over her shoulder she told Mrs Tinker about her coffee companion.
‘Amanda’s the biggest gossip in Woodcombe, maybe the whole of Devon.’ The old lady snorted to herself. ‘And, if she doesn’t know it, she’ll invent it.’
‘I rather got that impression. Mind you, I suppose all villages have got them.’
‘And it’s not as if she’s so perfect either. I bet she didn’t tell you about the skeletons in her cupboard.’
‘Just that she worked at the hospital. Is there more?’ In spite of her reservations about gossip, Alice found the idea of hearing gossip about a well-known gossip to be quite appealing.
‘She didn’t mention her husband, or rather her ex-husband, I bet.’
‘No, not a word. Just that she’s on her own now. What’s the mystery?’ She brought the mugs of tea over to the Aga and took a seat alongside Mrs Tinker. She waited expectantly for the story, but in vain. Instead, she heard Mrs Tinker sigh, and saw her mug of tea slip from her hand. Alice dived down to catch it but too late, it broke on the floor and splashed tea everywhere. Alice knelt down to pick up the pieces, offering Mrs Tinker some encouragement as she did so. ‘Don’t worry, it’s only broken into three big pieces. It’ll be easy to clear up.’
There was no response.
‘Are you all right, Mrs Tinker?’ She looked up. The old lady had toppled forward until her face was resting on her chest. She wasn’t moving. Alice sprang to her feet, grabbed her by the shoulders and straightened her up. Her eyes were closed, but at least she was still breathing. She ran for the phone in the hall and dialled 999. Once she had told the operator what had happened and the ambulance had been called, she went back into the kitchen. Danny the dog was sitting at Mrs Tinker’s side, his nose on her lap, making plaintive whining noises.
‘She’s not very well, Danny.’ Alice sat down and took the old lady’s hand in hers. The dog shuffled across to sit directly in front of her, the mournful brown eyes even sadder than normal.
‘She’ll be all right, Danny.’ But even she could hear the doubt in her voice.
Chapter 19
As the end of May approached, Mrs Tinker was still in hospital. To Alice, she seemed to be getting weaker and weaker. Alice visited her every day and brought news of Danny the dog, now her full time companion in Duck Cottage.
When she had been taken into hospital by the paramedics, Alice had given them the telephone number of Mrs Tinker’s nephew, Peter the surveyor. However, she had since wondered about any other relatives the old woman might have. One day, she decided to ask.
‘We only had the two children.’ There was regret in the old voice. She was propped up on three pillows, her face close to Alice’s ear, but her voice was little more than a whisper. ‘Robbie died young. He was a sickly boy. His younger b
rother Derek was quite the opposite. He was into all the sports; rugby, football, you name it, he played it.’ The smile had returned to her face.
‘And how do I contact him if there’s ever any need?’
‘He lives in Canada. He emigrated with his wife the best part of thirty years ago. He comes over every few years, though, and he phones me.’ She was looking much more cheerful now. ‘Peter’s been in touch with him and he phoned me a few days ago, here at the hospital. He’s going to come over in a week or two. If you need his number, it’s in the address book on the shelf above the Aga.’
Alice was delighted to hear the news and could imagine how much it would mean to Mrs Tinker to see her only surviving child again. She could also see that the old lady was tiring. She changed the subject and told her how the house in Beauchamp was progressing.
‘The Burrell boys are doing a terrific job. The kitchen looks about twice the size and the new bathroom upstairs is ready for plastering. The electrician and the plumber started today. They have to put in all their wires and pipes before the walls can be finished off.’
‘Who are you using to do that?’
Alice gave her a smile. ‘The plumber has more tattoos than a gang of Hell’s Angels, and the electrician would make your decorator friend, Neil, look like a dwarf.’ Seeing the expression on the old lady’s face, she giggled. ‘I’m exaggerating a little bit, but he’s so tall he has to duck to get in the door. But he’s as thin as a rake. His name’s Gerry, and they all call him the giraffe.’
Mrs Tinker reached out and caught her arm. ‘I know Gerry, he’s a lovely boy.’ This was not the phrase Alice would have used to describe the fifty year old beanpole of a man, but she nodded as Mrs Tinker went on. ‘And is the plumber called Scottie?’
‘That’s right, Mrs Tinker. He’s even got “Scottie” tattooed on the back of his head. You know everybody round here, don’t you? Which reminds me, you never did finish your story about my dog-walking companion, Mandy.’