It's Raining Men Part 30

'Has it put you off relations.h.i.+ps?' asked Lara, squeezing ketchup over the sausage, m.u.f.fins and eggs.

'Yes,' said Gene. 'Ren Dullem isn't exactly awash with women, as you know. That suits me fine.'

'Not all women are the same,' said Lara, hoping they weren't starting that argument again.

'Didn't say they were. I just don't want another one.' He speared a sausage as if imagining it were Colleen's neck.

'I'll take it that this isn't a date, then.' Lara laughed, then wished she hadn't made the joke, as it sounded flirty.

'No, it isn't,' said Gene Hathersage, spearing another sausage as if it were her neck this time.

Chapter 69.

Clare dragged May down to the lagoon for a swim. May stayed half an hour and then left her to it. She went back up to the cottage to dry her hair before going out to the baker's. She thought that fresh cream cakes might be a nice treat for this afternoon whilst sitting outside on the small terrace.

It was a lovely day, despite those annoying pretend clouds. May put on her favourite summery dress and strappy sandals and decided to sit on the front with a coffee and a pastry from Jenny's. She found a bench and watched the seagulls squealing and circling and noseying above a fis.h.i.+ng boat bobbing at the edge of the cove in the hope that it might offer them some pickings.

'Hi,' said a voice behind her. An unmistakable deep man's voice with a smile in it. May wiped her mouth quickly because the pastry crumbs had welded themselves onto her lipstick.

'h.e.l.lo, there,' she said, s.h.i.+elding her eyes from the sun.

'Breakfast?' said Frank.

'Yes.'

'Me too.' He was holding a paper bag and a coffee from the kiosk of rude Mr Unwin. 'Mind if I join you?'

I'd be absolutely chuffed to bits if you did, said May's heart. 'Of course not, no,' said May's mouth. Frank wavered. 'I mean no, I don't mind not no, I do mind,' explained May before bursting into a chuckle. 'Just sit down.'

As Frank opened up the bag the delicious smell of fried egg and sausage escaped from it. 'I'm just grabbing a light bite,' he said and winked.

'Doing anything special today?' asked May, hoping she didn't look like the singing detective with all the flakes of pastry on her.

'Daisy's gone to the hospital this morning with her cousin, Pauline. I always try to take her out for a nice lunch or dinner when she gets back from her appointments. She gets a bit upset with all the tests they make her do.'

'You don't go with her, then?'

'She doesn't want me to go. She doesn't want to rub it in,' said Frank. 'I'm presuming, because nothing stays quiet around here for long, you know that it was me who caused her to be paralysed.'

'I had heard.' May was thinking she obviously didn't know Daisy Unwin that well, then. May would have put money on her being a master rubber-inner.

'Your pastry looks nice,' said Frank after a few mouthfuls of his sandwich. 'Come from Jenny's shop, by any chance?'

'Yep.'

'She's a good girl, is Jenny. It's just a shame she has so few customers. The old ones don't like to spend their money eating out and there aren't many young ones left.'

'This village needs a serious kick up the b.u.t.t,' May said. 'I'd love to get my hands on it. Even the name of it is . . . dull.'

'You know the proper name for it?' asked Frank.

'Proper name?'

'Reines de la Mer. It's French. It got shortened over the years to Ren Dullem.'

'Reines de la Mer?' May rolled the words around in her mouth. 'Queens of the sea? Why was it called that?'

'People said that strange sea creatures used to inhabit the harbour once upon a time.'

'What, like giant squid? Sea serpents?'

'Sirens, mermaids, whatever you want to call them. Attracted by the handsome sailors.' Frank grinned. 'For good luck, the village was named in their honour so they'd be flattered enough not to cause any damage to the fis.h.i.+ng boats.'

'How charming! And what a shame that the name was shortened. That would be the first thing I'd change back.'

'Is that what you do? Are you some sort of town planner?'

'No, I help set up new businesses,' explained May. 'I like to think of myself as a sort of financial fairy G.o.dmother.'

'Sounds a lot more fun than my job. Although I wouldn't be anything else. All I ever wanted to be was a farmer.'

'Nothing wrong with farming,' May said. 'I always wanted to keep chickens. Dad had a couple when I was a young girl: Elsie and Deirdre. I used to have a freshly laid boiled egg every morning, till an urban fox broke in and killed them.' She remembered that her dad had cried when he'd found them, for the fox hadn't eaten them, just worried them to death. He didn't get any more chickens after that.

'I've got chickens, pigs, ducks, geese and an old donkey. It's more like an animal sanctuary than a working farm.' Frank lifted the coffee to his lips.

He has a nice mouth, thought May, imagining it on her own. She swung her head away before she blushed.

'So are you going anywhere nice with Daisy when she gets back today?'

'We're going for dinner tonight. She likes this French place in Whitby. Not really my sort of thing but,' he shrugged, 'it's something I can do to make up for her having to keep going back and being prodded and poked at.'

Oh, you poor man. What a burden of guilt to carry. She only just stopped herself from putting her arms around his shoulders and hugging him. She had better go before she overrode her safety catch.

'Well, it's been nice seeing you again, Frank,' she said, standing and picking up her litter. 'I hope you have a lovely meal later.'

'Thank you, May,' he said. She felt full of warm syrup hearing him say her name.

'Bye.'

She turned from him and began walking, knowing that he was watching her. She concentrated on trying not to trip or let the wind blow up the skirt of her floaty dress, Marilyn Monroe-style.

Chapter 70.

Gene insisted on paying the bill. He wouldn't even let Lara pay as a gesture of thanks for the crutch. She could move quite fast on it now and reckoned she wouldn't need it in a couple of days. She wondered whether she should ask if he wanted it back.

They arrived at their destination at quarter past eleven: a rescue centre which had a long twisting drive flanked by huge trees that blocked out the sunlight. At the end of the drive was a large stone house with outbuildings next to it. Penny, the lady to whom Gene had spoken on the phone, was waiting for him in the doorway. She was a straight-backed no-nonsense horsey type wearing a disposable ap.r.o.n.

'Mr Hathersage? Welcome. I'm Penny.' She held out a meaty hand and gave Gene's a thorough shake. She threw a friendly h.e.l.lo at Lara too as she was getting out of the truck. 'Come in, come in and meet Gracie and Poppet. You okay there?'

'I'm fine,' replied Lara, following Penny and Gene into a sizeable kitchen dominated by a huge red Aga. At the side of it, curled into a small ball, was a light-grey dog looking up at the strangers with wary grey eyes. A s.h.a.ggy little pup came bounding over from across the room, his tail wagging so much that he almost knocked himself over with it.

'This is Poppet and that over there is Gracie,' breezed Penny. 'I gave you first refusal on Poppet but if you don't want him, he's got two people on the waiting list. As for our Gracie, well, she's been in the wars a bit, poor thing. She was found very scared in the woods with her back leg in a very bad state, so G.o.d knows what she'd been through. Had to take it off but she's doing very well. The vet thinks she's no more than nine months old. Bit nervy. Doesn't like noise or plastic bags. Likes a basket by a fireside and she'll sneak up on your lap when she thinks you aren't looking. Needs some patience and love and a quiet life.'

Don't we all, thought Lara, as Poppet jumped up at her in an effort to claim her attention.

'Someone took her and then brought her back after two days because she wouldn't come to them. I want to know that whoever takes her will persevere with her. I don't want any more upsets for her, she's had more than her share,' Penny said with a stern edge in her voice.

Gene squatted down to the basket, offering the back of his hand. Penny moved away and picked up Poppet, who was trying to cut in on the action.

'h.e.l.lo, girl,' Gene whispered. 'How are you doing?'

Gracie s.h.i.+vered to her three feet and, just when Lara thought she was going to walk away, her head came forward and she sniffed at Gene's fingers. He was talking to her gently, words that Lara couldn't make out because they were so quiet.

'He's got the touch,' said Penny. 'Lovely creature.'

Lara wasn't sure if she meant Gracie or Gene. The way he was trying to make a connection with the dog, talking to her softly, was fascinating to watch. She hadn't thought he could be so patient. Gracie didn't seem to be put off by his wild hair and black beard. In fact she settled down in her bed and let him stroke her head, even closing her eyes.

'What do you think? Are you the man for our special little girl?' asked Penny, her friendly head on a tilt. 'Or are you more of a Poppet man?'

Gene turned to Lara. 'Well, which do you think I should take?'

'Are you kidding? You have to take Gracie. Poppet's got the chance of a home, two other homes.'

Gene nodded and turned to Penny. 'Yep. I think Gracie would fit in at La Mer, if you think I'm suitable to take her.' He straightened up. 'Got a s.p.a.ce by the fireside waiting for her. I think I must be a sucker for the wobbly-leg type.' He cast a furtive glance in Lara's direction.

'Can we say the weekend, then, for pick-up?' asked Penny, struggling to hold giddy little Poppet.

'Good for me,' replied Gene.

I won't see her settled in, thought Lara with a sad gulp. I'll be gone.

Penny saw them out.

'Pleasure to meet you, Mr Hathersage, Mrs Hathersage.'

Lara opened her mouth to say that they weren't married, but it was too much ha.s.sle to explain. For a moment, she imagined herself as Mrs Gene Hathersage. Then she imagined living at La Mer with a three-legged greyhound in a basket by the wood-burning stove in the kitchen. It wasn't a thought that had her rus.h.i.+ng in panic to the hills, as it would have done on day one of her holiday.

Chapter 71.

Gladys was frosty with her again and Joan didn't know why. She had been politeness itself to the woman and yet Gladys was throwing her enough cold looks to turn her into a snowman. That was unfortunate as Joan was hoping to engage her in conversation over a nice cup of tea and some cake, and subtly winkle information out of her.

Joan needed to go back to the Internet cafe in Wellem. It was such a nuisance having no access to Google in the village. There were questions that needed answering because at the moment she had crumbs of information that refused to bind together. She was missing the link that would connect all the pieces.

At the moment it wasn't much of a story to deliver to the newspapers for a mighty sum, but she suspected that it had the makings of a scoop. What she knew so far was that Gilbert Carlton, lord of the manor, was out in a boat in 1928 with twelve fishermen and the boat sank, but the rain saved them. Or a very able dolphin. For some reason Gilbert paid money to all twelve of them and the mysterious R, who was probably a woman called Raine de la Mer. And that money was still being paid to R, the wife of Seymour Acaster. R Acaster was the heir of the Carlton estate. And it looked as if she was still alive because if she wasn't, wouldn't Edwin have made a new will? Then again, Mrs Acaster had to be a hundred if she was a day. It had to be an oversight. She herself had claimed some of Stanley's benefits for a month after he died putting it down to grief when they caught up with her. Someone in Ren Dullem had been creaming off the estate for many years, though. Joan had to applaud their bra.s.s neck.

'So why did you take me with you?' asked Lara as they drove down the ridiculously littered lane that led to Ren Dullem.

'As a guiding beacon to steer me away from sentimentality,' Gene said, and sniffed. 'I thought that as a hard-nosed business woman you would help me make a sensible decision and not automatically load me with a dog that would require extra maintenance.'

Lara snorted with laughter. 'Sorry,' she said. 'And she's female.'

'Bound to be trouble, then.'

He sounded so grumpy yet Lara knew he was play-acting with her. He was as pleased as punch that he would be adopting Gracie at the weekend. He was looking forward to seeing her wander in, sniff around and settle herself by the fire when she realized she was home.

'I was being sensible. I couldn't see you with a ball of cotton wool like Poppet. You're more of a hound man.'

'Even three-legged ones.'

'You could make her a crutch. Don't forget the fish.'

She saw Gene's eyes crinkle and his mouth smile under his beard.

They were seconds away from Well Cottage.

'Thank you,' he said, using the same gentle tone of voice he had used with Gracie.

'I enjoyed it,' said Lara. 'And the Frannie's sausage filler,' she added. 'I only wish I could see Gracie walk into your house for the first time and take up residence by the fire.'

'You'll be catching up with all your stuff on your computer by then,' said Gene, braking by the front door.

'Very probably.' She sighed, and a cold draught brushed against her heart as she visualized it.

Chapter 72.