‘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?’
‘I can do better than that.’ Mrs Tinker set down her mug. She was smiling. ‘Much better. You remember I told you I used to have more guests?’ Alice nodded. ‘Well, you see, I used to put them next door. I own both halves of the cottage. There’s this half with two bedrooms upstairs and there’s next door. It’s sort of a mirror image of this place. Since my George died, I don’t need the space, so it’s just been mothballed, so to speak. Would you like to take a look?’
Alice jumped to her feet. For the first time that day, she began to feel a bit more optimistic. Together, they went out of the back door and through a gate in the fence. The dog was left in the kitchen. Mrs Tinker pulled a key from her apron pocket and opened the back door.
‘Welcome to Duck Cottage.’ She ushered Alice inside. ‘Mine is called Drake Cottage. We didn’t name them. They’ve always been called that. Now, don’t be put off by the chill in here. I can soon get it tidied up, heating on and warm as toast.’
Alice followed her round the little cottage, delighted with everything she saw in there, from the woodburning stove in the lounge to the modern bathroom next to the main bedroom. And the views were, if anything, even better than from next door.
Mrs Tinker tapped the wall behind the bed head. ‘Your bedroom for tonight’s just the other side of there.’ She led her back down the steep little stairway. ‘Well, what do you think?’
‘I love it, Mrs Tinker. It’s exactly the sort of place I was dreaming of.’
‘I’m glad you like it. I’m sure you’ll be comfortable there.’ She led Alice back into her cottage. As they walked in, both of them got a friendly nuzzle from the dog. Alice surprised herself by finding it quite natural to pat his head as he did so. Children and dogs in one day?
‘Now let me see.’ Mrs Tinker sat down again and did some mental arithmetic. After a few moments, she went on to name a rental figure that was less than half what the two-legged Danny would be paying for the use of the London flat. Alice lost no time in accepting.
‘You’ve no idea how happy I am, Mrs Tinker. I thought this was one of the worst days of my life, but I’m feeling an awful lot better now. Now all I need is a good builder. Oh yes, and a surveyor, and a cleaning company with a strong stomach.’ She realised with a start that she was scratching the big dog behind his ear, while he grunted with satisfaction. She carried on in amazement. ‘I don’t suppose you know any good builders?’
‘I can do better than that, my dear.’ Mrs Tinker was enjoying her role as Alice’s saviour. ‘I can introduce you to my nephew. He’s a surveyor, and a good one, I can assure you. And he knows all the builders in the area.’
‘Mrs Tinker, you’re a marvel.’
‘I’m just glad I can be of assistance.’
The King’s Arms was almost empty at six o’clock. The young man behind the bar was friendly and attentive, and the food menu impressive. She ordered the mixed seafood platter and a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. A sign outside had boasted the existence of free wifi, so she took a table in the corner and pulled out her iPad.
A check of her e-mails revealed one from Nigel, congratulating her on accepting the severance package and repeating his regrets at the board’s decision. She deleted it with a smile. There was also one from Danny. Two-legged Danny, she thought to herself with a smile. He hoped everything was going well and wondered when she would be back in London. She told him she planned to stay in Devon until the end of the week and gave him a brief summary of the day’s events, doing her best to play down the true state of number 23. She ended by giving him the news that she had already found a house to rent. Just a few moments after she pressed Send, her fish arrived.
She had a very pleasant meal for a fraction of the cost of a similar dish in London, and followed it with a fresh fruit salad. She was just finishing when a man came up to her table.
‘Hello. Sorry to interrupt. I’m Peter. Are you Alice Grant, by any chance? I got a call from Auntie Agnes.’ He was a friendly-looking man, maybe in his late forties. ‘She told me there was a maiden in distress and I had to get myself over here as soon as possible.’ He gave her a smile. ‘So here I am.’
Alice smiled back. ‘She’s a wonder, your aunt. I hope I have even half her energy when I’m that age. Thank you so much for coming. Let me, at least, get you a drink.’ She made to stand up, but he caught her shoulder and pressed her gently back into her seat.
‘Maidens in distress don’t buy drinks. What can I get you?’ He pointed towards her empty glass. ‘Another one of those?’
She sat back and nodded gratefully. ‘This maiden in distress business isn’t as bad as it sounds. That would be lovely.’
When he returned with the drinks, he lost no time in introducing himself properly. ‘Here’s my card. I’m a building surveyor. I do everything from homebuyer surveys to full design and build projects. My aunt tells me you have a refurbishment project in mind.’
‘Slightly more complicated than simple refurbishment, I’m afraid.’ Alice went on to describe the circumstances surrounding her purchase of the house and its present state. She left nothing out, including her stupidity in buying it unseen