estate,’ Kev piped up from the end of the bar. ‘Promised his dad he’d keep it together.’
‘See, it’s hard for local people to find somewhere to live,’ Dave amplified. ‘Cottages that used to be for rent, incomers buy ’em up for holiday places, and push the prices up so locals can’t afford ’em any more.’ He gave her a hard look as he said it, which she withstood as steadily as she could. ‘And then, the Blackmores have owned the land round here time out of mind. Be a terrible shame if the estate was broken up and sold off and the family went. Piece of history gone, you see.’
‘Yes, I see,’ said Kate. ‘Well, I can see why you were surprised. But it’s all true – I bought it fair and square.’
‘Course you did,’ Dave said, exonerating her. A plate appeared in the hatch and he turned and retrieved it and placed it in front of her. ‘Sure you’re all right here?’
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘It looks lovely.’ It did – a big, crusty half of a French loaf, a slab of Cheddar, the smell of which was already making her mouth water, pickles, pickled onions, an individual dish of butter and a little mound of salad. Just what she had been fancying.
While she ate, she got her companions to talk, starting off with the dog, going on to local breweries, drawing them out on the village darts tournament, and ending up with whether Minehead would beat Bridgwater in the Somerset Premier League final.
And as they got over their shyness they asked her about her father’s family and her local connections, and were interested and impressed that she was doing the work in the cottage herself. Ollie said she could get herself a lot of jobs as a handyman if she needed the money. Wayne was able to give her the phone number of a chimney sweep, and Ken knew a good plumber who, he said, could also put her on to an electrician. They seemed genuinely friendly, and altogether it was a very useful half hour: lunch, so to speak, had paid for itself.
She was just getting to the bottom of her pint, and thinking regretfully that she really shouldn’t have another if she was going to do any work that afternoon, when the door opened and a man came in.
Kate, glancing over, thought it must be another tourist, because he was very smartly dressed in a good suit and tie. He was in his forties, she guessed, and with a firm, alert look about his face that suggested intelligence. His hair, prematurely silver, was very short, well cut and contrasted with his tan. The only point against him was an expensive camel coat over the suit, and leather gloves he was just taking off, but that was simply a personal prejudice: she didn’t like camel coats and leather gloves – at least, not on men.
But that he was not a tourist was immediately proved when Dave looked across at him and said, ‘Hello, Phil. Didn’t expect to see you in here this time o’ day.’
The man came forward, sparing Kate one hard, all-encompassing glance and then dismissing her, to stand between her and Ollie and say, ‘Give me a G and T, Dave. Make it a double.’ His mouth was set hard, as though he had something on his mind. He was heavyset and broad shouldered, and with his thick wool coat he took up a lot of room, forcing Kate to shrink back a little on her stool. As he changed balance to reach inside his coat for his wallet, he must have stepped on the dog, for there was a little yip and a scuffle of movement. The man looked down briefly, and Ollie said, ‘Come out of there, Gyp,’ reaching down to take the dog’s collar and pull him to the other side of his stool.
Putting the glass in front of him, Dave said, ‘What’s up, then, Phil? You don’t look your usual cheery self.’
‘Ach,’ he said, a formless expression of disgust. ‘I’ve been all the way to Taunton on a wild goose chase, that’s all. People mucking me about. I’ll get to the bottom of it, though, and when I do …’ He threw back half the gin and tonic in one gulp, put
‘See, it’s hard for local people to find somewhere to live,’ Dave amplified. ‘Cottages that used to be for rent, incomers buy ’em up for holiday places, and push the prices up so locals can’t afford ’em any more.’ He gave her a hard look as he said it, which she withstood as steadily as she could. ‘And then, the Blackmores have owned the land round here time out of mind. Be a terrible shame if the estate was broken up and sold off and the family went. Piece of history gone, you see.’
‘Yes, I see,’ said Kate. ‘Well, I can see why you were surprised. But it’s all true – I bought it fair and square.’
‘Course you did,’ Dave said, exonerating her. A plate appeared in the hatch and he turned and retrieved it and placed it in front of her. ‘Sure you’re all right here?’
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘It looks lovely.’ It did – a big, crusty half of a French loaf, a slab of Cheddar, the smell of which was already making her mouth water, pickles, pickled onions, an individual dish of butter and a little mound of salad. Just what she had been fancying.
While she ate, she got her companions to talk, starting off with the dog, going on to local breweries, drawing them out on the village darts tournament, and ending up with whether Minehead would beat Bridgwater in the Somerset Premier League final.
And as they got over their shyness they asked her about her father’s family and her local connections, and were interested and impressed that she was doing the work in the cottage herself. Ollie said she could get herself a lot of jobs as a handyman if she needed the money. Wayne was able to give her the phone number of a chimney sweep, and Ken knew a good plumber who, he said, could also put her on to an electrician. They seemed genuinely friendly, and altogether it was a very useful half hour: lunch, so to speak, had paid for itself.
She was just getting to the bottom of her pint, and thinking regretfully that she really shouldn’t have another if she was going to do any work that afternoon, when the door opened and a man came in.
Kate, glancing over, thought it must be another tourist, because he was very smartly dressed in a good suit and tie. He was in his forties, she guessed, and with a firm, alert look about his face that suggested intelligence. His hair, prematurely silver, was very short, well cut and contrasted with his tan. The only point against him was an expensive camel coat over the suit, and leather gloves he was just taking off, but that was simply a personal prejudice: she didn’t like camel coats and leather gloves – at least, not on men.
But that he was not a tourist was immediately proved when Dave looked across at him and said, ‘Hello, Phil. Didn’t expect to see you in here this time o’ day.’
The man came forward, sparing Kate one hard, all-encompassing glance and then dismissing her, to stand between her and Ollie and say, ‘Give me a G and T, Dave. Make it a double.’ His mouth was set hard, as though he had something on his mind. He was heavyset and broad shouldered, and with his thick wool coat he took up a lot of room, forcing Kate to shrink back a little on her stool. As he changed balance to reach inside his coat for his wallet, he must have stepped on the dog, for there was a little yip and a scuffle of movement. The man looked down briefly, and Ollie said, ‘Come out of there, Gyp,’ reaching down to take the dog’s collar and pull him to the other side of his stool.
Putting the glass in front of him, Dave said, ‘What’s up, then, Phil? You don’t look your usual cheery self.’
‘Ach,’ he said, a formless expression of disgust. ‘I’ve been all the way to Taunton on a wild goose chase, that’s all. People mucking me about. I’ll get to the bottom of it, though, and when I do …’ He threw back half the gin and tonic in one gulp, put
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