It was then that her phone rang, and she juggled with her hot chocolate as she tried to retrieve it from the depths of her bag.
Edward? She’d almost put him out of her head, expecting not to hear from him again after their strange parting at the chip shop. She swiped to take the call and clamped the phone to her ear, trying to hear above the hum of the crowds.
‘Ed? I didn’t expect to hear from you…’
‘Didn’t you?’ he asked, sounding vaguely surprised. ‘I did say I’d keep in touch.’
‘I know but…’ She gave a mental shrug and left it at that.
‘I was just wondering…’ he continued. ‘Have you got any further with your letter?’
‘I’ve got one or two bits of hearsay but not a lot else.’ She sipped at her hot chocolate. ‘Did you get a reply from the letting agent?’
‘They called me today, so I thought I’d better let you know… bad news, I’m afraid.’
‘They can’t tell you anything?’
‘Not a dickie. The owner of the house bought it at auction about seven years ago and has zero knowledge of the previous owners.’
‘Oh. I don’t suppose we could have expected anything different really. But thanks for trying.’
‘No worries.’
There was a silence. Dodie was just about to say goodbye when he spoke again.
‘What will you do now? You said last time I saw you that you might give up.’
‘I don’t know. George and Margaret are proving very elusive so far. I still don’t have so much as a surname for either of them. I’ve searched online and… well, it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. Worse than that, like looking for an invisible atom in a haystack.’
‘Isn’t the haystack completely made of atoms and therefore all of them completely visible in the form of the hay?’
‘Huh?’
‘Never mind – nerdy joke and not even funny. Ignore me.’
The fact that he was joking at all had Dodie flummoxed. Here he was again, unpredictable Ed. She was beginning to wonder if he had a secret twin going around pretending to be him. A very miserable, serious twin.
From the stage, the warbling notes of musicians warming up reached her. ‘Thanks for phoning,’ she said, aware that the concert was about to begin. The deep parp of a trombone followed and a titter of laughter rippled through the crowd as the trombone player stood at the front of the stage and took a bow for his accidental performance.
‘Where on earth are you?’ Ed asked. ‘Sounds like you’re at the Albert Hall or something.’
‘Not quite. A bit closer to home and less glamorous. I’m at the Lower Gardens.’
‘I had no idea plants could be so noisy.’
Dodie couldn’t help a smile this time. She liked this funny Ed. ‘It’s an outdoor brass band concert. For Christmas.’
‘Oh, sorry… I didn’t meant to interrupt a night out with your friends…’
‘Don’t worry – it’s just me, so don’t think you’re interrupting anything.’
‘You’re there on your own?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh.’ He paused. ‘Were you let down by someone?’
‘No. I don’t mind going out on my own.’
‘Well, I suppose I’ll let you go and enjoy your concert.’
‘Thanks… And Ed… thanks for coming door-knocking with me too. I really did appreciate the company.’
‘No problem. I guess this is it then. Merry Christmas, Dodie Bright.’
‘You too, Ed. Thanks again.’
The screen went black and Dodie turned her attention to the stage. The more she heard from Ed Willoughby, the more she was intrigued and confused by him. Her phone rang again and she frowned as she saw Ed’s number a second time.
‘Have you tried social media?’ he asked before she’d had time to speak.
‘For the letter?’
‘Yes. I was just thinking about it… Have you tried putting something on Facebook asking for help? Just a thought.’
‘I’m not much of a Facebook user to be honest.’
‘It’s the best way to reach a lot of people.’
‘I realise that, but I… well, I just didn’t go down that route because I was going to try to see what I could turn up myself first. And it seemed a bit random… Who on Facebook now is going to know anything about a couple from 1944?’
‘It’s about as likely as the person living in their house, and yet you still knocked on my door that night.’
‘Well, yes, but…’
‘It’s up to you really, but it seems daft not to try it. I could—’
The rest of his sentence was drowned out by the band beginning to play ‘White Christmas’.
‘I’ll have to call you back!’ Dodie yelled into the phone, unable to hear his reply and hoping that he wouldn’t be too offended that she was about to hang up on him. ‘But thanks for the tip and I’ll definitely think about it!’
Shoving her phone back into her bag, she sipped at her chocolate as she turned to watch the stage. The strains of a brass band would normally have her smiling as she became six years old again, sitting in between her grandparents as they ate ice cream on the grass. But her attention wasn’t quite as devoted to the concert as it would normally have been. Ed Willoughby was on her mind, and she was beginning to wish he’d get off it.
As the band took their applause before launching into ‘Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree’, Dodie forced the enigmatic Ed from her thoughts. She’d come out to enjoy a brass band, not to fret about some hot-and-cold man she barely knew, and that was just what she intended to do.
When she’d first arrived at the concert, Dodie had been warm enough in her coat with her hot chocolate. But pretty soon, as the cup was emptied and the night drew its icy cloak around the gardens, her feet began to feel numb, then the end of her nose, and the rest of her body quickly followed. After an hour she felt bitterly cold, and though she was enjoying herself, she wished desperately that she was the kind of girl who favoured jeans and walking boots with thermal socks instead of sixties twinsets and Mary Jane shoes. A freezing fog had dropped over the grass, swallowing shrubs and frosting the lamps with dewy halos. The crowd thinned as people wandered away to warm themselves at the faux log cabin or simply decided they’d had enough of being cold and went home. Despite the tempting idea of her own cosy flat not far away, this was the most festive she’d felt so far this year, and Dodie was determined to stick it out until the end. As the strains of ‘I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus’ rang out over the park, a light tap on her shoulder had her spinning around. When she saw who it was, her exclamation was almost louder than the band.
‘What are you doing here?’
Ed grinned. ‘Charming. I decided to check the concert out. It’s ages since I’ve seen a brass band in action. Actually, I’ve even marched to one or two in my time.’
‘But…’
‘You don’t mind, do you?’ he asked, his grin fading. ‘Only I thought…’
‘It’s a public performance. I couldn’t mind if I wanted to… I’m just surprised. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea. In fact, it’s almost nobody’s cup of tea.’
Ed glanced around. ‘Looks popular enough to me.’
‘I just didn’t expect you to like this sort of thing.’
‘I thought it might be fun, that’s all. I’ve hardly seen anything of Bournemouth since I arrived so I thought it was about time I got involved.’
The band stopped playing and a ripple of polite applause spread through the crowd. Dodie turned and added her own, though she hadn’t been listening to the last song at all. When she looked back, Ed was watching the stage expectantly, hands in his pockets and beanie hat pulled down over his ears. Wearing the hat that way, he looked a little like a Christmas elf himself. A rather muscular, chisel-jawed Christmas elf who could knock you down with a well-aimed punch but would wish you compliments of the season as he did it. Dodie didn’t know whether to laugh at the
image or be alarmed by it.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve been a wonderful crowd and we could play all night,’ the conductor announced, ‘but I’m afraid this is our last song, so let’s make it a good, rousing one, eh?’
There were cheers and Dodie couldn’t decide whether people were cheering because they’d enjoyed the show or whether they were happy they could finally go somewhere to get warm. The first notes of ‘Here Comes Santa Claus’ rang out. She turned to Ed, unable to hold back the broad smile that lit her face.
‘This is one of my favourite Christmas songs!’
‘It is a good one,’ he agreed. Probably to be polite but she was impressed by his tact. Ryan would have laughed right out and told her she was sad. ‘Shame I missed most of the show,’ he added. ‘I didn’t know anything about it until you mentioned it on the phone.’
‘Would you have come for all of it if you’d known?’
Ed nodded slowly, as if giving the matter a great deal of consideration. Something about it looked endearingly comical and it was hard to imagine him in combats with a gun at his side. ‘I might have done,’ he said.
‘Next time I know who to ask when I can’t get anyone else to come,’ Dodie smiled. ‘They have concerts here all the time in the summer but I usually end up watching them alone these days.’
‘I thought you didn’t mind going out alone?’ he said, cocking an eyebrow.
‘I don’t,’ she laughed, recalling their recent conversation. ‘But sometimes it’s fun to have a friend along. If you ever fancied being that friend…’
He smiled. ‘I’d like that.’
They listened in silence for the rest of the song. After brief applause, the band took their bows and began to pack away, the crowd dispersing to find other things to do.
‘Have you got to go home now?’ Dodie asked. ‘You said you hadn’t seen much of Bournemouth yet… maybe I could show you some places. Have you checked out the Christmas markets yet?’
‘Not yet. To be honest, I’m starving. Must be the cold working up an appetite.’
‘There’s plenty of street food – noodles, hog roast, kebabs, bratwurst… take your pick.’
‘I could eat all of it. What do you think? Hungry? Want to choose?’
‘I suppose I could eat something. And noodles might be good as long as I don’t get them down my chin, which I usually do. Even worse, I might get them on my coat and this coat is…’ She paused, somehow feeling guilty she was wearing Margaret’s coat in front of Ed but not knowing why. ‘Come to think of it,’ she continued, collecting her thoughts, ‘there’s potential for any of it to get all over me. I think street food was invented to make a mess.’
‘Noodles it is, and I won’t comment if I see any of it go down your chin.’
They began to walk towards the log cabins that lined the main shopping street outside the park. Fog clung to the glow of the streetlamps like cobwebs, shrouding the pavements in ochre mist. Crowds spilled out from various eateries and temporary bars, music blasting out while security guards looked on, expressions stony, though Dodie often liked to think that when they knocked off their shift they’d be in the bar sipping mulled cider too. Then Dodie stopped at a queue for a noodle stand.
‘Can you believe that even though I practically live in town I haven’t even tried any of these food stands yet?’ she said, turning to him.
‘I can, because I haven’t either.’
‘But you live further out so you have an excuse.’
‘Not that much further.’
‘Still more of an excuse than me.’
‘I expect your shop takes a lot of your time?’ he asked. ‘Must be hard to run it alone.’
‘It does…’ Dodie replied absently as a figure huddled in the doorway of the now closed bank caught her attention. She shook her head. ‘Sorry… I mean, it does but that’s because I’m still getting it off the ground. Maybe I’ll be able to get help when I’m turning a healthier profit.’
The couple in front moved away and the proprietor of the stall smiled. ‘Yes please?’
‘Chicken noodles for me,’ Ed said. He looked at Dodie. ‘This is on me,’ he added. ‘Fire away.’
‘Can I have two portions of chicken noodles?’ Dodie asked the stallholder, and Ed raised his eyebrows.
‘How hungry are you?’
Dodie laughed. ‘It’s not all for me. And I can’t expect you to pay for it either.’
‘It’s not that I mind paying… If not for you then who’s joining us?’
‘Nobody,’ Dodie said as she took two of the cartons from the stall and watched as Ed paid. ‘I’ve just seen someone I know who will appreciate a hot meal; that’s all. As soon as I can get a hand free I’ll pay you back for this one.’
‘I don’t want you to pay me back,’ Ed said as he followed Dodie, who was already striding across to the bank.
‘Hey, Nick!’ she called, and he looked up from the cigarette he was rolling with a bright smile.
‘Alright, sweetheart! I must have been a good boy to keep running into you like this!’
She stepped forward and handed him a box of noodles. ‘I hope you like Chinese. I took a punt on the fact that you would.’
He put the cigarette to one side and dug the provided plastic fork into the box, yanking out a gooey tangle of noodles and sauce. ‘Lucky you didn’t get chopsticks with it,’ he said, looking delighted as he shoved them into his mouth. ‘Just the job!’ he added with a thumbs up. At least it might have been that, but it was hard to tell through a mouthful of chow mein.
‘You watch yourself out tonight,’ Dodie said. ‘I know you don’t like them but you ought to get into a shelter tonight; it’s going to be cold.’
‘You know me,’ Nick said with a quick grin. ‘I’ve slept through worse than this and lived to tell the tale.’
‘Even so.’ Dodie smiled as she watched him dig into his noodle box again. ‘I’d feel better if you did.’
‘Maybe I will then,’ Nick said, but Dodie knew he wouldn’t. But at least she’d said it and she could be happy that she’d done as much as she could do. For what little it was worth, constant nagging was the only weapon she had in the war to keep him safe. She often wondered if he had anyone else to nag him.
‘See you around then,’ she said.
‘Goodnight, sweetheart!’ Nick called as she turned to go, aiming a nod at Ed as they began to walk back down into the main thoroughfare.
‘Do you do that often?’ Ed asked, throwing her a sideways look.
‘What?’
‘Feed homeless people?’
‘Not really. Sometimes. I mean, you can’t help everyone but I try to do what I can. I like Nick – he’s really interesting. Has a lot to say if you get time to listen to him.’ She handed Ed her noodle pot for a moment and pulled her purse from her bag.
‘God, no!’ Ed exclaimed. ‘What sort of bastard would I be if I watched you hand a meal to a homeless guy and then let you pay me for it!’
‘But you offered to buy me dinner and not Nick too. That was my choice.’
‘Well, Nick can have this one on me. Please put your money away.’
Dodie hesitated, poised to offer some argument. But then she smiled and did as he asked before taking her noodles back. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘Thank you!’ Ed returned.
‘For what?’
‘For making me come out of my house.’
Dodie laughed. ‘I don’t recall making you come out of your house. How did I do that?’
‘By turning up at my house that night when you came asking about the letter.’
Dodie was silent for a moment as they walked, hands cradled around the warmth of her noodle pot. ‘Did you have a very bad time in the army? In action, I mean? Was it horrible?’
‘I try not to think about it. I keep telling myself not to think about it. It’s not so easy when you go to sleep to tell your brain not to dream about it, though.’
‘Sorry… I didn
’t mean to dredge up bad memories.’
‘I probably need to talk about it. I had a counsellor when I was first discharged from the army… back home in Blackpool. Didn’t see the point in keeping it up but that’s the first thing she said to me when I started.’
‘What made you move to Bournemouth?’
‘I needed a fresh start. I stuck a pin in a map and… here I am.’
‘A pin in a map? Sounds a bit drastic – whatever made you do that must have been a bit intense.’
He stared out over the knots of people crowded around bright timber-clad stalls, seeming to consider his answer. But as Dodie waited and none came, she felt she’d hit a nerve he would rather have kept safe.
‘I didn’t mean to pry,’ she said awkwardly. ‘I suppose you might have been up for a bit of adventure or something, eh? That’s why you went so random over it.’
But there was continued, unbearable silence as they walked, and Dodie sensed that taciturn, closed version of him she was beginning to recognise coming to the fore again. She didn’t know what to make of it – she knew only that it was frustrating. One or the other she could deal with, but this sea change of moods… it was all too much.
‘I don’t mean to be funny,’ she said slowly, ‘but do you consider us to be friends now? I mean, we’re spending time together as friends and I didn’t ask you to come tonight so I got the impression that’s what you wanted. Only, every time I think I have that figured out you go all secret squirrel on me and then I don’t know what the hell is going on. Have I said something to piss you off?’
‘Of course you haven’t.’ He stood the fork in his pot and finally turned to face her. ‘And yes, I think we’re friends now. It’s just… I had a bad time in Blackpool when I came back from duty and I suppose it’s made me a bit slow to trust.’
‘I’ve never asked for your trust. We’ve just met. It’s only brass bands and noodles. And if it helps, I had to have counselling once so I’m pretty familiar with how this works.’
‘I know… I’m sorry.’ He let out a sigh. Then he threw her a sideways look. ‘You had counselling? You seem so… together.’
‘Maybe that’s because it worked.’ Dodie shrugged. ‘It got dark for a while, but things are much better now. I’m sure it’ll get better for you too.’
A Very Vintage Christmas: A Heartwarming Christmas Romance (An Unforgettable Christmas Book 1) Page 10
