Bob of Small End

by David Hockey

  Chapter 13 Sally

  Bob packed the suitcase he’d taken to Portugal in the evening adding his slippers and a dressing gown. After that he looked at the map of England that Betty always kept in their bookcase. The shortest route to Boston from Small End skirted London on the M25 but he didn’t want to go that way. People drove too quickly and there might be long tail-backs. So he decided to go through Oxford. He wrote the names of the towns he would pass through on a post card, connecting each town by a line upon which he wrote the road number. This, he thought, would save him from constantly stopping to look at the map.

  He was through Southampton by nine Wednesday morning and continued until he arrived at Newbury where he stopped for coffee and a piece of cake. He had skipped breakfast being anxious to start the journey and was now feeling peckish. He had more then two hundred miles to drive, a very long trip for him, so he planned to stop every fifty miles and have a rest. Breakfast would be the first, lunch the second and an early tea break would be the third. He had told Aunt Sally to expect him about five.

  As he drove he thought back to the times he used to visit her. Mostly he remembered his uncle, for he spent most of his time with him when he wasn’t busy in his office. His uncle was a stock broker and he and Aunt Sally lived in a big house at Wyberton, a village a couple of miles south of Boston. Uncle Brian often drove him to the seaside where he sometimes rode on one of the donkeys. They always bought two ice cream bars, one as soon as they got there in the morning and another in the afternoon and they usually ate fish and chips for lunch. Uncle Brian died eight years ago and he and his mother went to the funeral. There were many people there but the only relatives were Aunt Sally, his Mum, himself and Brian’s sister. He didn’t enjoy that visit and he didn’t like Brian’s sister. She was overweight, wore thick glasses and stared at him all the time, why, he never discovered.

  He remembered the bedroom he always had. It was big and at the back of the house, overlooking their garden and the fields. Aunt Sally only grew flowers. A gardener came each week to care for the flower beds and to cut the lawn. There was a tiny pond at the back of the garden that Uncle Brian had dug. They put minnows they caught in one of the large ditches that drained water from the fields in the pond and wondered if there were any of their youngsters still there. His uncle took him to see the pillboxes that stood near the sea and was told that machine gunners would be stationed there if there was an attack during the war. Sand had partly covered them and spilled into the entrance but he climbed into one and looked through the holes. It was dark and scary inside and there could have been a rat in one of the corners so he didn’t stay long. The best times, apart from being at the seaside, was when they went blackberry picking or when he picnicked with both of them and his mother. Aunt Sally made cucumber sandwiches and he had his own big bottle of lemonade. The only bad thing about those visits was going and coming. It was a long journey, travelling by buses and trains. He liked sitting in the trains but travelling all day wasn’t much fun.

  He had lunch in a pub half-way between Oxford and Northampton and ordered a half-pint only, not wanting to be even slightly incapacitated, and chose one of the beers made in that area. He ate his Plowman’s lunch in the garden at the back of the pub, enjoying the sunshine and peace for the pub was almost empty. After eating he examined the map to see if he could find the road that Aunt Sally lived on but all it showed was the main street going through Wyberton. He remembered what the house looked like but did not know exactly where her road was. He’d ask someone if he couldn’t find it.

  He stopped for a pot of tea in a café in a village just before Peterborough. Driving through Peterborough wasn’t difficult although he had expected it to be busier than Bournemouth. The worst part was the construction detours but the signs were easy to spot and most of the traffic was following the same route.

  He remembered Wyberton once he had arrived and quickly found his aunt’s road. The house was just as he remembered although the gardens needed tidying. Some of the bushes had grown too large and should have been trimmed or removed. He parked the van in the road, walked to the front door and knocked. Then he remembered that there was a door bell and he searched for the button. It was partly hidden by a cluster of ivy leaves. He pressed it and heard it ring. He waited, then pushed it again. After another thirty seconds or so the door opened. It was Aunt Sally but she sat in a wheel chair and a tube curled from a metal bottle to her nose.

  “Hello Bob. Come in, come in. It’s so good to see you! Sorry I took so long to answer the door.”

  “Hello Aunt Sally,” and he bent to kiss her on her cheek. “I didn’t know you were in a wheelchair, nor that you used oxygen. I’m sorry for knocking then ringing twice. If I had known I’d have waited.”

  “I didn’t hear the knock, I was probably napping. It takes me a while to move about now I’m in this chair. I should have walked. That’s what I usually do because it’s much quicker but I felt lazy. Come in. I’ll tell you all about my troubles later. Where’s your bag?”

  “Oh, it’s in the van Aunt Sally. I’ll go and fetch it.”

  “Van? What van? Did someone drive you here?”

  “No. I drove myself. I’ll tell you about the van and all I’ve been doing when we sit down.”

  “You can drive Bob? I never knew that.”

  “I’ve just learned. Let me fetch my bag and lock the van and I’ll tell you.”

  “Put the van in the driveway Bob and I’ll put the kettle on for tea. I’ve given you your old room, the one at the back. Put your bag there. You remember where the bathroom is?”

  “At the end of the corridor.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  During tea they began talking about the old days, when he, his mother and father visited during and after the war, rather than what Bob had been doing the past few months. All Bob remembered about the war was loud bangs, usually at night, when bombs dropped in Southampton or on the docks. Normally they only heard the explosions when the wind was blowing in their direction. He told her that he remembered Uncle Brian taking him to see the pillboxes and how scary it was inside, and how they went to Skegness and ate ice creams and had tea and cakes in one of the villages on the way home.

  “Would you like to do those things again Bob?”

  “Why, yes, I would.”

  “Then lets do that tomorrow. I don’t get out very often and it would be nice to visit some of those places again.”

  “Well there’s lots of room in the van. Your chair can easily fit in the back.”

  “Oh we don’t have to use the van, we can use my car. I sold Brian’s Rover after he died but kept my Vauxhall. It’s in the garage. It’s a good car but I haven’t used it for two or three years.”

  “The battery’s probably no good then. If you have booster cables I can start it with the van’s battery.”

  “I’ve a better idea. Give me the phone,” and she pointed to the shelf under the table where his tea was. He passed it over and Sally dialled a number.

  “Hello. Is that David?”

  “Yes, and you must be Sally. I haven’t heard from you for a long time but I can always remember your voice.”

  “Yes it’s me. How are you and are you busy?”

  “You know me Sally, I’m always busy, but not just at this moment. Can I do something for you?”

  “Yes please David. My nephew, Bob, is staying with me for a couple of days and I want him to take me out in the Vauxhall but I haven’t used it for a long time. Can you have one of your men come and check it? Bob thinks the battery might be dead although we haven’t tried it yet. And the oil or something might need changing.”

  “Dick is free at the moment. I’ll send him over. Say ‘Hello’ to Bob for me, although I don’t expect he’ll remember me. We met at Brian’s funeral.”

  “Yes I will. Thanks David.”

  She replaced the phone in its cradle then explained that David owned one of the garages in Boston and that he serviced t
heir cars and was one of Brian’s friends. “They would occasionally play golf together and I would talk to his wife at the club dinners. Dick won’t be long. Do you want any more crumpets?”

  “No thanks. I’ve eaten four and I feel very full. Do you still make cucumber sandwiches?”

  “Not this time of the year but I do in the summer. Funny you remembering them. They’re one of my favourites. Now I didn’t know what to give you for supper. I usually don’t eat much. I try to cut down on my food these days because I don’t want to get fat. I don’t get any exercise ‘cos I spend most of the day sitting down. I’d like another cup of tea though. Could you make a new pot?”

  “Of course.” He carried the empty teapot to the kitchen, filled the kettle and put it on the stove then returned to his chair.

  “Why do you need oxygen Aunt Sally?”

  “I have emphysema. Brian and I smoked but I stopped after he died. He didn’t get it, he died from a heart attack. I find it hard to breath now and oxygen helps. It’s too difficult to climb the stairs so I sleep in Brian’s study. It’s a nicer room than the dining room and has a better view. I’ve enlarged the downstairs toilet and put in a bath. A lady helps me bathe twice a week.”

  “Do you cook all your meals auntie?”

  “No. I mostly live on frozen pre-made dinners. I should call them lunches really for I eat them at noon.”

  “I eat the same things too but eat them in the evening. Do you use a microwave?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m thinking of buying one. They’re supposed to be much quicker than the oven.”

  “Quicker and much easier. As long as the meal is on the right kind of plate or in a suitable dish there’s nothing to go wrong. Don’t use plates with a metal design on them. The instructions that come with the microwave will tell you what to use. Ah that’s the kettle. Remember where the tea bags are?”

  “No.”

  “In the cupboard on the left side of the sink on the second shelf.”

  He went to the kitchen and returned with a fresh pot and put it on the table. “I’ll let it sit for a while.”

  There was a knock at the door. Bob opened it and Sally called, “Is that you Dick?”

  “Yes Mrs. Jackson. Can I have the keys to the garage and the car?”

  “Yes. Bob will bring them to you. Here Bob. It’s these two.”

  Bob removed them from her key ring and told her he’d wanted to see what Dick did so he’d go with him to the garage. “Pour your tea while it’s fresh Aunt Sally. And don’t clear, I’ll do it when I come back.”

  Dick opened the garage door, climbed in the car and tried to start it. “Yes, the battery’s dead. I’ve got a charged one in the truck. Just a minute.” He fetched it and two cables then opened the bonnet and used the cables to connect the batteries. He turned the key and with a groan then a roar the car started. He let it run for a minute, stopped the car, removed the spare battery and tried to start the car again. It started but only just. “It’s not good enough,” he said. “Mrs. Jackson will have to buy another.”

  “I don’t know if she will want to do that. She doesn’t use the car now. Can you fix it so it will run?”

  “I can lend you this battery but we must have it back tomorrow morning.”

  “We were going for a run tomorrow Dick. Let me go and ask her what she wants to do.” Bob left Dick in the garage and went to the house.

  “Aunt Sally, the battery is dead. Dick can lend us his spare but he wants it back tomorrow morning. We’ll have to go for our ride in the van, I’m sorry.”

  “No. Tell Dick to put in a new battery. The car will need one when I sell it so it might as well have it now.”

  “All right,” and Bob told Dick what his aunt had said.

  “Then I’ll go back to the our garage and put a new one on charge. I’ll bring it early tomorrow. The oil’s okay but it should be changed. I can do that here tomorrow too if you like.”

  “Well, yes, please. I think she will want that doing as well. Will it make a mess?”

  “No. I’ll change the oil filter too.”

  “Okay, thanks. Does it need anything else?”

  “I don’t think so. If you have any trouble when you’re driving call us and I’ll come and fix it or tow you to the garage, but I think you’ll be fine. We used to maintain this car and it seems to be in good shape. I’ll be here about eight thirty with the new battery. Is that okay?”

  “Yes, thanks Dick.”

  Bob told his aunt what had happened and she was pleased. “Dick’s a good mechanic. If he says it’ll be okay then we’ll be fine.”

  They talked for nearly two hours that evening. Bob told her all about his busy months, about going to Portugal with friends, enjoying it so much that he wanted to go every year and how that made him decide to make more toys to earn the money.

  “Then Ken joined me and we formed a partnership. He’s got lots of ideas. We will be able to make toys quicker now. That means we’ll soon have plenty of money. We’ve rented a building and are building a bigger shop there. It should be finished when I return.”

  He told her how they would run the company. Ken would hire helpers and that a teenager had already applied and that he would start on Monday. Then he told her he would be going to a conference of toy and gift retailers and hoped to meet retailers who would buy toys from them.

  “My, you’ve been busy Bob. My, my! Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

  “I think so, but sometimes I wonder. I’m not young any more but I don’t think that I’m too old to try something new, as long as other people do the hard parts. I get tired if I do too much. We’ll see what happens. I’ll give it a year or two and if it’s not what I want to do I’ll quit and let Ken have the company.”

  “If the company is successful then you’ll make money, but if it’s not you’ll lose money won’t you?”

  “Yes that’s right. I’m using some of the money I saved from selling my toys over the last few years. I was saving it for the grandchildren in case they needed some for their education. But I’m sure we’ll be alright. I’m already selling toys through two other retailers and they sell many more than Rose does. Probably because they’re in towns and Rose’s shop is in the village.”

  “Yes I know Rose and her shop. I visited it several years ago.”

  They talked about Bob’s activities for another hour but he didn’t say anything about Claire or Maria. Maybe he would, tomorrow. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Would she want to hear about his interest in other women? She was his mum’s sister, after all, and might expect him to remain faithful to Betty forever.

  As the conversation slowed Sally said she’d make a mug of Ovaltine and asked Bob if he would like one.

  “Yes please. Ovaltine’s another thing I haven’t had for a long time. We didn’t drink it at home and I think the only time I had it was when I was here.”

  “Ovaltine and biscuits then. Or would you like something else? Baked beans or sardines on toast?”

  “Oh, no thanks, auntie, I can still feel the crumpets. Ovaltine and biscuits will be nice.”

  After their drink Sally said she was going to go to bed, “but you can stay up as long as you like. Here’s the television control. I don’t know what’s on, I usually go to bed at this time. When do you get up?”

  “Between six and seven.”

  “I get up at seven. When’s Dick coming?”

  “About eight thirty.”

  “We’ll have finished breakfast by then. Do you want a fried one?”

  “No thanks, Aunt Sally, I usually just have toast or porridge and a mug of tea.”

  “All right. Then we’ll have that about eight. Sleep well. ‘Good night, don’t let the bed bugs bite!’ Do you remember us saying that when you were young?”

  “I do now, yes. Sleep tight, auntie.”

  Bob turned on the television but found nothing he wanted to watch so he went to bed ten minutes after his aunt had left. He slept well, and
there were no bed bugs, as far as he knew.

  Bob watched Dick as he changed the battery, oil and oil filter. Some of the oil dripped onto the newspaper Dick had put on the concrete floor. There wasn’t much room under the car and he was glad it wasn’t him changing the oil. If he ever bought a car he would have that done in Tim’s garage. What he had to do was interesting though, and Bob liked learning new things; he’d never seen anyone change a car’s oil and filter before.

  Dick cleaned up then backed the car out of the garage and left it beside Ken’s van in the driveway. He told Bob the garage would send his aunt the bill then drove away.

  Sally had put a coat on and was standing by her chair when he returned. “I can walk from here to the car if you hold my arm and the oxygen bottle” she said. “Put me in the seat then fetch the wheel chair and put it in the trunk. There’s plenty of room for it.”

  Bob did that, locked the house then sat in the car. “Now, where would you like to go?”

  “Anywhere. It’s so nice to be out. Let’s go towards the coast and find a place for a morning coffee. Do you drink coffee?”

  “Oh yes. Usually every morning, about ten.”

  “That’s what I do too. Brian and I always liked to have coffee together at that time when he was at home.”

  Bob found the Vauxhall easy to drive. It had an automatic shift, the first he had ever driven and it was a bit strange to use only his right foot. Peter had told him what to do when driving an automatic. “Keep your left foot on the floor all the time. Just use your right foot to accelerate and to brake.” Automatic shift made driving much easier when they were in Boston’s semi-static queue. Once out of town he headed towards Skegness, occasionally pulling into a lay-by when there was something of interest to look at.

  “There’s a nice place to have coffee around the next bend Bob. Brian and I would often go there, especially in spring time. It’s a coffee shop attached to a garden centre. They have a conservatory where I’d like to have coffee. I hope there’s room for us. Yes, there, that’s the place. Pull in as close to the front door as you can and we won’t use the chair.”

  Luckily there was a parking space near the door. They took it and Bob walked his aunt inside. Luck was with them again, for one of the four tables inside the conservatory was empty.

  “What would you like Aunt Sally?”

  “A large mug of their normal coffee Bob. They have espresso or latte and other types if you want them.”

  “Regular coffee is all I drink auntie.”

  “Call me Sally, Bob, I’d much prefer that. Auntie makes me feel a bit too old coming from a grown man!”

  “All right, auntie, I mean Sally. It’ll be a bit strange at first but I’ll try. What would you like to eat with your coffee, Sally?”

  “I’ll have a slice of apple pie if they have that. Otherwise nothing Bob.”

  They did have apple pie and he bought two slices and two large mugs of coffee. They took their time, eating slowly and only sipping the coffee. It was very nice, sitting there and looking at the flowers and listening to the tinkle of water dripping from a small ornamental fountain that centred the room.

  Bob stretched his legs and began telling Sally about Lagos and being shown around by Maria. She seemed very interested so he added that Maria would be guiding a tour in the Lake District in August. “I’ve told her I want to go on it. They tell me it’s a lovely place, good for walking, with lakes and rivers.”

  “Are you interested in the place or in her Bob?”

  “Both, I think. There was another woman I was attracted to last December but she married another man. I’d like to have a girl friend but I can’t tell if a woman’s interested in me, that’s my problem Sally.”

  “I would think that many women would be interested in you Bob. And if they are you needn’t worry. They’ll let you know, one way or another. Do you want to marry again?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so. When I think about that I remember Betty and don’t want to spoil those memories. Marrying again might do that. No. I don’t think that I would marry someone else.”

  “Betty wouldn’t mind if you did. Nor would she mind if you found a lover. She’d want you to be happy, that’s all.” Sally sat still for a minute or so then said, “We should be going, we haven’t see the sea yet!”

  They were in Skegness twenty minutes later. He drove slowly along the road next to the shore. There weren’t many people on the beach, most were on the pavement next to the shops. He parked the car and Sally asked him to push her along the path that edged the beach. He did that for a while then she said that she’d had enough. “I’m feeling a bit cold from the wind Bob. Is it too early to have lunch?”

  “Not if you’re ready. It’s gone twelve.”

  “Then I’d like to go to the North Sea Restaurant. Did you ever go there? It’s the one at the end of the beach, the one with the lounge that gives a great view of the sea. It’s another place Brian and I often went to.”

  So Bob drove her to the restaurant and parked close to the front door and Sally said she would walk again.

  The waiter remembered her and found them a nice table by the window. “Do you want your usual Mrs. Jackson?”

  “Fish and chips with a glass of white wine? Yes please. I would like that.”

  “And you sir?”

  “I’ll have the fish and chips but a half-pint of Bass please. You have that on tap I see.”

  “Yes we do sir. Would you like a soup or a salad?”

  “I’d like a soup please,” said Sally.

  “Me too,” said Bob.

  Sally chose the minestrone and Bob a clam chowder.

  Lunch was very enjoyable. Bob was tempted to buy another half-pint when Sally had a second glass of wine but decided not to, remembering what Peter had told him.

  Afterwards they drove towards the shore at Freiston then along the road that led to the pillboxes Uncle Brian had taken him to. He stopped when they got there, left the car and climbed the small bank to examine them. They had not changed, just more sand and grass. He didn’t try to go inside. When he climbed into the car Sally told him it was time for her nap and asked him to drive home. She dozed a little on the way back. When Bob helped her into her chair she told him she would likely sleep for an hour or so. “What would you like to do?”

  “I’d like to look around the garden then go for a walk.”

  “All right. There’s a key on the tray in the hall. Lock the door when you leave.”

  “All right Sally.”

  The back garden was overgrown, just like the front, with bushes spreading into each other and upon the lawn. He searched for the pond then found it hidden under the low-lying branches of a tree. He moved the branches and looked carefully into the water to see if descendants of the fish had survived but couldn’t see any. He let the branches swing back then walked out onto the road leaving it to join one of the paths leading to Wyberts Castle, a route he had taken several times with his uncle when they were looking for butterflies. He saw only two this time. On the way back he stopped for a pint at the inn. It was a holiday, wasn’t it, he thought, and he didn’t expect to drive any more that day.

  Sally was in the kitchen when he returned warming scones in the microwave. There was a container of clotted cream and a pot of raspberry jam on the tray. “Rita buys scones and cream for me a couple of times each month. I told her to bring six this week because you were coming. I like raspberry jam more than strawberry jam; it’s got more flavour. Come, sit down in the lounge and we’ll eat them.”

  So Bob sat and they ate and talked. This time Sally told him that she did not have long to live. As a former nurse she understood what was happening.

  “That’s also why I asked you to visit Bob. You’ll have everything when I die. I was very close to Betty and I am your Godmother. I have no relatives except you.”

  “You won’t die for a long time Sally. You did very well today. I think your oxygen tank will keep you going for man
y years.”

  “No I don’t think so. I’d like you to have my car Bob. I was going to sell it but now you can drive you might as well take it, I don’t need it anymore. Rita has a car and she comes here three times a week. She does the shopping and cleans the place for me. Sometimes I go with her for a ride but driving to Boston’s supermarkets isn’t much fun. I could ask her to drive me to other places but she has other jobs to do and I don’t want to ask too much of her. So you take the car.”

  “I can’t Sally. I have to drive the van home.”

  “Oh I don’t mean this time. Come again. I’ll get David to do all the paperwork and we can sign it over on your next visit. You’ll have to get here by bus and train though.”

  “Well thank you very much Sally. I’d love to have it. I really enjoyed driving it today.”

  “And there’s the clock and the three pictures I’d like you to have. They are in the dining room. I don’t go in there very much and I won’t miss them. I don’t think that they are worth very much but your grandmother owned them. If you take them today the lawyer won’t have to included them when calculating inheritance tax. David will state that the Vauxhall is worth less than £3,000 and I don’t think that’ll be included either.”

  “I don’t know anything about inheritance taxes. When my mother died it was all looked after by the bank. I don’t think we paid anything.”

  “Well there will be some to pay when I die but don’t worry about it. Our lawyer will contact you and he’ll periodically send you cheques until the estate’s settled. That’s what happened to us when Brian’s father died. Now I don’t want to go out any more today but I’d like to tomorrow, if you have time.”

  “I’ll have time Sally. I’ll not leave until the afternoon. Where would you like to go?”

  “I’d like to go to King’s Lynn, to the cemetery where Brian and my mother and father are buried. I want to take some flowers from the garden. Then I’d like to look at the school I attended and drive back through Spalding to look at the tulips. Brian proposed to me there. We could have lunch out or come home and have something.”

  “Let’s have lunch out Sally. I enjoyed the one we had today.”

  “Good. That’s what I’d like too. Now go and look at the clock and pictures and let me know if you want something to wrap them in. I’ve got some brown paper somewhere.”

  The clock, a wooden mantelpiece clock, was on the sideboard. Bob wasn’t sure where he would put it in his house but he’d make room for it. There were two small pictures, about ten by fifteen inches, of rivers meandering through meadows and trees. The third picture was twice as large, showing a three-masted sailing boat scudding along in the wind. That he would put in his living room; the smaller ones might best be hung in his bedroom.

  “I think that I should wrap the pictures in paper but the clock could sit on the floor in front of the seat. It will be all right there.”

  “You should lock the mechanism and remove the pendulum of the clock before you move it Bob. Open the back and you’ll see how to do it.”

  “All right.”

  “And the brown paper is in the cupboard in the spare bedroom, I think. You might as well wrap the pictures now because you won’t have much time tomorrow if we go for a drive.”

  He placed the wrapped pictures in the front hall and the clock on the floor beside them. After that they listened to the news on the television then watched a documentary on penguins. Sally told Bob where to find the Ovaltine and how she made it. As they drank she said, “I always wanted to go to Antarctica to see the penguins but we never did. If you want to travel Bob don’t put it off. Eventually you won’t have the health to do it so go now, while you’re still able.”

  “Yes I’m thinking that way too Sally. I’m finding out that there are many interesting places to visit in the world. I would like to see some of them.”

  “Make a list. I did. Brian and I visited some of ours. China and parts of India were the most interesting. You should go there sometime. Put them on your list.”

  “All right Sally.”

  “And watch travel shows on the television. You’ll learn about different places and find the ones you’d like to visit. Lying on a beach didn’t interest us, we preferred to see how other people lived. We went to their museums and walked through the backstreets or sat in the tiny squares and drank coffee, watching what everyone did. And we preferred the local’s food, too.”

  Sally described some of the places they had visited and what they did when they were there. After ten minutes Bob took a piece of paper and made a few notes. Sally and he had similar interests it seemed. About an hour later she said she was tired and would go to bed and he followed her shortly afterwards.

  After breakfast the next morning Bob went to the garden and picked a large bunch of flowers collecting those that were nearly opening. He gave them to Sally who sorted them and put them in a heavy vase and told him to “half-fill it with water, put it in this wicker basket and kept it upright by pushing crumpled newspaper around the sides.” This he did, then helped Sally to the car, locked the front door and drove to the cemetery in King’s Lynn. Once there Bob pushed her along the path to Brian’s stone-covered grave. She asked Bob to remove the dead flowers from the pot standing in a hole, clean it and fill it with water. “The tap’s by the front entrance. And bring the basket with the vase and flowers from the car too please.”

  When he returned she took half the flowers from the vase and arranged them in Brian’s pot. Then he pushed her to her parent’s grave and helped her tidy it. Her parent’s had paid for permanent care so the covering grass was cut but stems near the headstone needed trimming. Sally used the garden scissors she had put in the basket with the flowers. Bob removed the dead flowers, cleaned the pot and filled it with water.

  “How often do you come here Sally?”

  “Every month. It’s one thing I do ask Rita to do. Sometimes I skip a month, if I’m not feeling too well or if the weather is too rainy or cold.”

  Then they drove to the primary school Sally had attended.

  “It hasn’t changed at all Bob. I had so many good times here and the staff were so nice. I often visited two of my teachers after I’d left.”

  “Do you want to look at your secondary school too?”

  “No. My time there was okay but I don’t have the same fond memories of it. If it was the weekend I’d probably ask you to push me around the outside and I could show you the classroom I liked the best but I can’t do that now. The children would watch us rather than their teacher!”

  They returned to the car and drove towards Spalding looking for a coffee shop and eventually found a rather dilapidated restaurant. They had coffee and shared a stale cream cake. They did not linger to chat as they had done on Thursday but continued towards Spalding, passing many fields covered with tulips, most in full bloom, looking for the field where Brian had proposed.

  The farm they sought had become a popular place to visit because people were allowed to drive along a track to a small parking lot in the middle of the field. The farmer had placed three benches on a rise so they could sit and fill their eyes with colour. Sally showed him where the entrance was and he followed the track then parked the car. The place was empty. Sally pointed to the middle bench.

  “That’s where it happened. There weren’t benches there then; that’s where he parked the car. I was quite surprised when he asked me to marry him for I thought we were just having an affair, but no, he wanted to get married. It took me a minute to say ‘Yes’.”

  “Was it the right decision Sally?”

  “Oh yes. He wasn’t the kind of man I thought I would marry but he turned out to be all right. It’s a pity we didn’t have any children but that’s my fault, not his. I suggested we should adopt but he didn’t want to do that. In a way I miss not having bought up children but we had a good life, never-the-less.”

  “Betty and I had children as you know, and I’m very glad we did although I don’t se
e much of them these days. Nor the grandchildren. Just a few times each year. I had a good marriage and I think that Betty had a good life too.”

  “Yes, she did Bob. She told me so one summer holiday, that time you looked after the children and we went to Eastbourne together. For some reason Brian couldn’t take a holiday that summer.”

  “Yes I remember that. I took Sam and Regina out to dinner each night when you and Betty were away. We almost lived on fish and chips!”

  “You’re making me hungry now. Let’s find a place to eat but not fish and chips.”

  “Do you like curry?”

  “Yes very much. The first time I had it was when we were in India. Brian didn’t like it but I did. Sometimes I ask Rita to bring me a curry dinner from the supermarket.”

  “Well I saw an Indian restaurant when we drove near here on Wednesday. Why don’t we go there.”

  The meal was excellent. Bob had a beef madras, Sally a lamb korma. One naan and some rice and dish of mango chutney. Bob had a bottle of beer and Sally some water, saying she didn’t like wine with curry. After the meal they drove directly back to Sally’s home, for she knew it would be a long drive home for him. He helped her into the house then returned for the wheelchair. Then he parked the car in the garage and returned the keys to her.

  “I’ve very much enjoyed your visit, Bob, and I know you much better now than I ever did before. When can you come next? The car will be ready for you by next weekend.”

  “I can’t come for a while Sally. The conference I told you about is next week and it will, I hope, provide the names of several retailers who’ll sell our toys. I’ll have to visit them before I can return here. I don’t know how many there will be but, with that and the new shop, I think it will be three or four weeks before I can come back.”

  “All right, I understand, you must be very busy. Well, come when you can.”

  They kissed goodbye. Bob climbed into the van, drove it into the road, parked and closed the gate. He waved to the house as he drove by but thought she wouldn’t be able to see him. Then he settled down to the drive home. The van didn’t feel half as comfortable as the Vauxhall. Fancy! Next time he came here he would drive home in a smart-looking car. He wondered if parking it on his new driveway was the best place for it. But where else could it go? If he built a garage the only place it could go would be on the driveway where the van was parked. He didn’t think he would like that, it would block half the view from his front window. Then he turned his thoughts to the new shop, wondering how it looked now and what Ken had done in the last three days. ‘I’ll stop there on my way back. Maybe there’ll be someone there, though it’ll probably be seven or eight o’clock.’

  He followed the same route home as he’d used going to Boston, stopping once for petrol and another time to use the toilet in a town.

  There was nobody at the workshop when he drove up and he didn’t have a key so he drove home and parked the van in his driveway. He put the clock and the three paintings in the front room and decided to unpack his suitcase tomorrow. All he needed was his pyjamas, toothbrush and slippers. ‘It’ll be nice to put my slippers on’.

  There was an envelope waiting for him on the mat by the front door. A credit card. He had received unsolicited credit cards in the mail before and had simply thrown them away but this one was from the National Westminster bank and the card was his business card. Using it might be a bit of a problem for he’d never had one before. Then he had an idea; the van needed petrol so he’d fill-up at Tim’s garage and use the card there. Tim would show him what to do if he ran into any trouble.

  Then he called Ken. Mary answered and told him that Ken was out, having a drink with a friend. Bob asked her to tell him that he’d called. He opened a can of baked beans, warmed them in a small bowl and spread half of them on some buttered toast for his supper. He put the rest in the fridge to have another day.