When Alice Met Danny (27 page)

Megan was eyeing the bunches of roses. Alice could see that similar thoughts were going through her head as had struck Derek. It seemed best to explain. ‘The red ones are from a certain windsurfer.’ Megan caught her eye and smiled. ‘The white ones are from Daniel Tremayne. I have been on a mission for him this morning.’ She went on to relate the events in the kitchen of Manor Farm the previous day and then her visit to Vicky that morning. She was pleased to see Megan’s face light up.

‘Alice, we should be drinking champagne, not coffee. That’s the best news I’ve heard for weeks, months. So Daniel has made up his mind to restart his life. That’s so wonderful!’

‘And he used me as the messenger.’

‘It makes sense. He told you himself his emotions are still all up in the air. He would probably have got himself into a real old state. And that might have frightened her off. No, you do the Cupid act so well, you were the obvious choice.’

Alice gave her a smile. ‘Which reminds me, my spies tell me you are having fish tonight.’

‘I’ve always fancied finding myself a hunter-gatherer. And a man prepared to cook it as well, that’s amazing.’

‘My money’s on you having to do the washing up. Anyway, don’t be disappointed if the fish wasn’t exactly pulled out of the water by your man in person.’ She told Megan what Max had revealed down at number 23. ‘Anyway, it’s the thought that counts. And the fact that he’s doing all the work. That’s awesome.’

‘Awesome?’ Megan gave her a quizzical look. ‘Have you been consorting with the younger generation by any chance?’

‘Worse than that. If you reach behind you into the washing basket you will see my latest purchase. It’s the grey one.’ She watched as Megan pulled out the new, still slightly damp T-shirt and held it up. ‘Now it’s official. I’m a windsurfing WAG.’

‘Getting serious, eh? So, dinner last night..?’

‘…was a picnic on the cliff tops. Yes, very romantic.’ She gave Megan the edited highlights of the evening. ‘And tonight he’s coming round here for dinner.’

‘And what are you giving him?’

Alice knew that as far as she was concerned, the menu was the least important part of the evening. ‘I’ve bought some scallops. I’ll do them with a mixed salad and a few boiled potatoes. And strawberries and cream for afters. I know it’s not very inspired, but it’ll do.’

‘It sounds lovely. I’ll think of you, as my personal chef waits upon me hand and foot.’

As Alice walked Megan to the door, she remembered that not everything had gone smoothly that day. On the doorstep she related her encounter with
my friends call me Danny
. Megan shared her outrage, but did her best to look on the bright side.

‘It’s not the end of the world. There will be lots and lots of material coming out about the First World War over the next few years. It is the Centenary after all. I’m sure you’ll find other sources for your research. Cheer up, it could be worse.’

Chapter 44

After Megan had left, Alice tidied the kitchen and then started preparing the food for that evening. As she peeled the potatoes, she thought about what Megan had said. When all was said and done, she was right. The loss of the war letters was not the end of the world. They had served their purpose by whetting her appetite for that period and getting her to commit to the MA. She would need to do a lot more background reading, but Danny Green had already given her a good idea of life in the trenches.

She began to feel more and more excited at the prospect of the night ahead. Around five o’clock she went upstairs, took a bath and washed her hair. She spent an hour in the bathroom before making a very careful choice of clothes. She was still trying on underwear when she heard her phone ringing in the kitchen. Anxious to avoid a repeat of the embarrassment of that morning, she wrapped a robe around her and ran downstairs. She glanced at the caller ID. It was him.

‘Hi, Danny.’ She felt breathless with anticipation.

‘Hi, look, something’s happened. I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it tonight. I’m sorry, really sorry.’ His voice sounded weary, his tone subdued.

‘What is it, Danny? What’s wrong?’ She could hear it in his voice. She sat down on a chair. ‘Is it something you want to talk about?’

‘I can’t talk now.’ He was keeping his voice low, little more than a whisper. From the background noise, it sounded as if he was in a public place. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow. I’m going to be staying down here for a while longer. Like I say, I’ll call you tomorrow. I’ll explain then and I’ll see you. All right? I’m really sorry. Bye.’ He hung up.

She sat there in bewilderment for some time. He had sounded sad and vulnerable, no longer the confident windsurfing god. For a moment she wondered if he was unwell, but surely he would have told her if he was. She felt a cold nose against her fingers. Danny the dog could tell that all was not well. She stroked him with her hand. She felt puzzled and, deep down inside, bitterly disappointed.

She went back upstairs and changed into more comfortable underwear. She slipped on a T-shirt and jeans and made her way back down to the kitchen. It was gone six o’clock. She decided to take the dog for a walk to clear her head. After the excitement of her meeting with Vicky, the rest of the day was turning out to be an unmitigated disaster. She had lost her friendship with
my friends call me Danny
, she had lost her connection with wartime Danny, and now her eagerly-awaited night with her Danny was not to be.

‘I’m losing Dannys left, right and centre.’ The dog looked up at the sound of his name. ‘At least I’ve still got you, Danny.’ He wagged his tail, but that might have been the prospect of the walk.

She roused herself and they set off down the road to the field, but her mind wasn’t really concentrating on where they walked. She was more interested in wondering
what was the matter with Danny
? He had sounded so grim. She had never heard him so desperate before. Nevertheless, she did her best to stay positive and threw a stick for the dog. He at least was unaffected by her troubles. Some of his delight at being out in the open communicated itself to her and she began to feel a bit better.

The clear patches of sky had clouded over. It was just beginning to spit with rain again by the time they left the field to return home. Then, as they came along the lane at the back of the church, she stopped dead and did a double-take.

There, parked at the side of the road, was Danny’s car – the trio of windsurf boards tied to the roof unmistakable. She swallowed hard, trying to make sense of what was before her. It took a few moments before her befuddled brain registered that the car was parked outside the lovely faded ochre cottage belonging to Mandy the gossip, aka Danny’s ex-wife.

She hurried past, face averted in case anybody might glance out of a window and see her. She and the dog jogged back up the road, past the pub, until they reached home, where she let herself in and closed the door firmly behind her. Still in a daze, she walked through to the kitchen, absentmindedly put the kettle on and offered a biscuit to the dog. He took it back to his basket and collapsed with a weary sigh. She sat down at the table with a similar sound.

‘Was Reggie right, Danny?’ The dog was too busy with the biscuit for small talk. ‘Are they getting back together?’ She remembered seeing Mandy on the beach, just before the windsurfing event. She had looked younger and very attractive. Maybe she had been able to rekindle her ex-husband’s feelings for her. A shiver went down her spine.

She opened the fridge and took out the bottle of Chablis Premier Cru she had bought specially for the occasion. She dug out the corkscrew, drew the cork and poured herself a full glass. She set it down on the table and thought about food. She didn’t feel like very much to eat, so she made herself a snack of salad and celery, along with a piece of Daniel Tremayne’s cheese. She sat down at her laptop. The events of the last few hours had shaken her out of her good humour. She felt quite wretched. What had started as such a wonderful day was finishing in misery.

She did her best to concentrate, but it was no good. Finally she closed the laptop and flicked on the TV. The local news was just finishing with a report about people flooded out by the day’s downpour, a car crushed under a fallen tree, sheep marooned by floodwater, and a bridge washed away only a few miles from Woodcombe. The weather forecast was equally depressing, with the prospect of a very wet morning for Mrs Tinker’s funeral the next day.

To make matters worse, there was nothing worth watching on television. The next programme was billed as a documentary about paedophiles. She switched it off and spent the evening catching up with the ironing.

At least
, she thought to herself,
I’ll have my Awesome T-shirt ready to wear next time I see Danny
. When, she wondered, would that be?

Chapter 45

The weather forecasters were dead right. Tuesday dawned grey and very wet. Not the monsoon-like conditions of Monday, but nevertheless most unpleasant. Alice got up at seven, conscious that the dog was waiting for his walk. The walk itself was a hasty dash around the smaller field, trying not to get too wet. She deliberately chose a route that avoided passing Mandy the gossip’s house.

Unexpectedly, her waterproofs proved up to the task that morning so, when she got home, she did not have to rush upstairs and change into fresh clothes. She went into the kitchen and did her best to dry the dog. Then she put the kettle on. As was their habit, Danny got a slice of bread as an early morning snack. She had just given it to him when her phone rang. It was two-legged Danny. She felt a pulse of excitement, immediately followed by a sense of foreboding. She found herself struggling for words.

‘Hello.’

‘Alice, is that you?’

‘Yes.’ She still didn’t know what to say. And she was terrified of what he might be calling to tell her.

‘Where are you?’ He had called her on the mobile.

‘In the kitchen.’ She could hear the strain in his voice. He sounded exhausted. This, more than anything, helped her natural hospitable instincts reassert themselves. ‘I’m making tea. Want some?’ She was doing her best to sound normal, but her voice sounded hollow to her. He didn’t appear to notice anything.

‘Yes, I would. Would you mind if I came round?’ She couldn’t miss the anguish in his tone.

‘Danny, you know you’re welcome any time.’

‘Two minutes. Bye.’

She barely had time to retie her hair before she heard footsteps at the front door. She and the dog were there before he could ring. She opened the door and waved him in. He was wearing a short jacket without a hood. He was soaked, his hair plastered down around his face, his jeans dark blue where the water had run off the jacket onto his thighs.

‘You should have worn your wet suit.’ She half-smiled at the sight of him, but his expression wiped it off her face. She led him, unresisting, into the kitchen and sat him next to the Aga. The damp dog came over and rested his head in his lap. Danny stroked the Labrador absentmindedly.

‘Want to talk about it?’ She went over to the kettle, hardly daring to listen, dreading what he might be about to tell her. She was unprepared for what he had to say.

‘It’s Mandy.’

Alice’s ears pricked up, although she carried on making the tea.

His voice was barely audible. ‘She’s been in an accident.’

‘She’s what?’ Alice whirled round.

‘She was in the car, yesterday morning.’ His voice sounded totally drained. ‘Just this side of Exeter on the main road. A tree came down on top of her car. She’s in Intensive Care.’

The TV news story flashed though Alice’s head. ‘Oh, how awful. That was Mandy? The poor girl.’ She didn’t know what to say. ‘So what are they saying at the hospital? What’s the prognosis? Will she recover?’

‘They won’t pronounce, but it doesn’t look good. I suppose they don’t know themselves. They know her back’s broken, but it’s too soon to know how bad it is. There’s a lot of damage to her head, and she’s in a coma. I got the call at lunchtime yesterday. I’ve been rushing round ever since. When I phoned you yesterday I was at Exeter St Davids station. Janie came down as soon as she heard.’ He looked up wearily. ‘We were both at the hospital last night. I couldn’t leave Janie there on her own. You do understand, don’t you? I can’t leave either of them at the moment.’ She abandoned the tea making, went over to him and cradled his head against her. The ramifications of what he was saying were slowly sinking in.

‘Of course I understand. How simply terrible. I do hope she makes a full recovery.’

‘She looks awful, with tubes and wires all over the place.’ He glanced up at Alice, his face distraught. ‘I know we were all but divorced. I know things were pretty bad between us, but I feel it all the same. Somehow I’m still responsible for her. She hasn’t got anybody else. Her mum’s got dementia and Janie’s up at university.’ He wrapped his arms around her and hunched there like that for a while. Finally, he roused himself. ‘Janie’s at home, asleep. They told us we couldn’t do anything at the hospital, but we didn’t get to bed until late last night. I don’t know about Janie, but I didn’t get much sleep.’ Alice bent down and kissed the top of his head. Then she went over to the worktop.

‘Want something to eat with your tea?’ She handed him the mug. ‘I’ve got some scallops that need eating.’

He looked up and grimaced. ‘I’m sorry, Alice.’ She shushed him.

‘Not a word. Well, if not scallops, how about some toast?’ She didn’t wait for his reply. She went over to the toaster and put in two slices. By the time they were done, she had laid butter, jam and fruit on the table. He made a feeble attempt to refuse, before falling on the toast and devouring it, along with two peaches. She sat quietly, sipping her tea and watching him. Finally she deemed the time right to start speaking again.

‘So what’s the plan? I presume you and Janie will be staying down here?’ He nodded. ‘Any idea how long she’ll be in Intensive Care?’

‘I’m going in to see her this morning. I rang the hospital a few moments before I rang you. The specialist will be looking at her first thing. Hopefully they’ll be able to tell me more by the time I get there. I’ve got to start calling the relatives. Her mum’s in no fit state anyway to ring round to tell people. To be honest, I’m not even sure she’s understood what has happened to her daughter. I’ll have to do all that kind of thing.’