Daisy’s Vintage Cornish Camper Van

by Ali McNamara

  ‘That wasn’t me, I wasn’t in yesterday. You probably spoke to Helen or Joanne.’ The receptionist checks her screen again. ‘Sorry, it’s just the one room that’s been allocated in your name.’

  ‘Well, do you have another room available?’

  ‘No, sorry, we’re fully booked tonight.’ She looks from Noah to me. ‘Your room can be made up as a twin if that helps?’

  I glance at Noah. He shrugs.

  ‘This really isn’t acceptable,’ I tell her. ‘We’re not a couple. We’re… colleagues.’

  ‘That’s as maybe,’ the receptionist says stoically, ‘but I still don’t have more than one room available.’

  ‘Look, I don’t mind sharing, Ana, if you don’t?’ Noah says helpfully. ‘It’s only for one night, but I completely understand if you don’t want to. I leave the decision entirely up to you.’

  ‘We can throw in a complimentary breakfast if that helps?’ the receptionist offers, staring at her screen again. ‘I see here you haven’t booked any. Our way of apologising for the mix-up.’

  I want to suggest a greasy fry-up really wasn’t going to make up for the lack of a room, but instead I sigh heavily. ‘Okay, sure. I guess we haven’t got much choice. A lot of the other hotels around here were fully booked too.’

  ‘It’s a busy weekend here in Brighton,’ the receptionist says, sliding a couple of forms for me to sign across the top of the desk. ‘There are several events on including a vintage car rally and a fun run.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘You’d think they’d learn to keep them apart by now?’ She retrieves the signed forms and hands me two key cards. ‘It’s room number eighty-four on the third floor. There are stairs just through there and a lift. On behalf of the hotel I can only apologise for the mix-up, and I hope you enjoy your short stay with us. If there’s anything else I can help you with, just let me know. Oh, and I’ll send someone up to make up your extra bed.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I say begrudgingly, as Noah picks up our bags and we make our way to the lift.

  ‘Are you sure you’re all right with this?’ Noah asks, as we wait for the lift to arrive. ‘We could just drive home if you’d prefer?’

  ‘Are you kidding? Not when there’s a chance of us finding out more about Frankie tomorrow. Also, we’ve got your buddy to meet up with tonight. That will be nice.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose,’ Noah says, sounding less than enthusiastic. ‘Well, if you’re sure.’

  ‘I don’t mind unless’ – I turn and wink at him – ‘you’re the one who actually snores! Then you and I will be falling out very quickly, Inspector Flood.’

  But as I climb into the lift beside Noah, I can’t help but glance again at the cardboard sleeve our key cards are wrapped in.

  We were in room 84 – that had to be a good sign, didn’t it?

  Thirty

  After we’ve unpacked the few things we’ve brought with us, we decide to head out in search of food before we meet Adam later.

  ‘So,’ I ask, while we’re waiting for our pizzas to arrive in a little Italian restaurant not far from our hotel. ‘What do you suggest next in our search for Frankie?’

  ‘Well I haven’t had too much luck finding this business,’ Noah says, fiddling impatiently with his empty glass. ‘It seems it ceased trading a few years after that photo was taken, seemingly in shady circumstances too.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Officially the company just went into liquidation, but unofficially it looks like some dodgy dealings from the owner might have caused the firm’s collapse.’

  ‘So it’s unlikely we’ll be able to trace any of the staff then, let alone a man who worked for them in 1987.’

  ‘Probably not. But I think the running club is our best bet anyway. Luckily for us it’s still going. I’ll ask Adam tonight if he knows anything about it. If not, we have the contact number listed on their website – we can call that and see if they have any member lists dating back to the eighties.’

  ‘Good plan.’

  ‘I try.’ Noah winks.

  ‘I know I’ve said this before, but thanks for helping me with all this, Noah. I really would be lost without you.’

  Noah just smiles. ‘Again, it really is my pleasure. I just hope we find something and this isn’t simply a wild goose chase.’

  ‘Even if it is, I’m having a really good time chasing this particular goose.’

  ‘Me too, Ana. Me too.’

  After supper, Adam is already waiting for us when we arrive at The Angel’s Feather pub, and he has a friend with him.

  ‘Foxy!’ Noah says, hugging a smaller man with red hair who looks a similar age to Adam. ‘Great to see you, man!’

  ‘Hope you don’t mind me tagging along?’ Foxy says, grinning. ‘Had to see you, Flood, when Jonesy said he was meeting up with you tonight.’

  ‘What are you having?’ Noah asks, looking elated to see his old buddies again. ‘First round’s on me.’

  Adam and Simon (as I quickly find out Foxy’s real name is) are a lot of fun. There’s much teasing, mainly of Noah, and many trips down memory lane, all of which result in long, often hilarious, stories about their time in the force together.

  But I don’t feel left out, far from it. The boys are keen to involve me in their exploits, partly I suspect because they have someone in their midst who hasn’t heard all their tales before, and partly so they can embarrass Noah as much as possible.

  Three rounds later (I’m not allowed to buy a round, however much I insist) it’s Noah’s turn to go to the bar again.

  The boys are all drinking pints of beer, and I’m now on orange juice after three very full glasses of white wine, which I’m already regretting.

  ‘So how did you two get on with your trip to the newspaper?’ Simon asks, while Noah is at the bar and Adam has gone to the gents. ‘Flood wouldn’t say what it was you were looking for, only that he needed a favour.’

  ‘Thanks again for getting us in there. It was very helpful actually.’ I pull out the photocopied sheet from my bag that Noah has given me to look after. ‘It’s a long story but we’re looking for this man.’ I point to the person I desperately hope is our Frankie.

  Simon peers at the photo. ‘I’d like to tell you I know him, but he’s not familiar. That’s probably a good thing in my case, eh?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘I know the running club, though. My wife runs with them – well, I say run, it’s more of a jog, but it seems to keep her fit. I sometimes think she only goes for the social life.’ He lifts an imaginary glass. ‘They seem to end up in the pub after every training session. She and a load of mates are doing the fun run through the city tomorrow.’

  ‘Yeah, I heard about that. Will there be many people from the club there?’

  ‘A fair few, I expect. My wife and her mates are all running for Cancer Research.’

  ‘Good for them.’ I look at the photo again. ‘Like these guys.’

  ‘Yeah, over twenty years later and still no cure.’ Simon shakes his head. ‘Bloody awful disease.’

  ‘Isn’t it.’

  ‘What are you two looking so down about?’ Adam asks, arriving back at our table.

  ‘Ah, nothing,’ Simon says. ‘I was just telling Ana here about the fun run tomorrow.’

  ‘Pain in the arse for our uniforms with all the road closures et cetera but it raises a lot of cash for the charities, so we can’t complain too much.’

  ‘Why don’t you and Flood come down,’ Simon asks. ‘I’ll be cheering Lucy on from the sidelines, but I might be able to ask a few of her running buddies if they knew your guy back in the day.’

  ‘That would be wonderful, thank you.’

  ‘Any friend of Flood’s is a friend of ours. You are just friends…?’ Simon asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Adam grins.

  ‘Yes, we’re just friends.’

  ‘Shame, ’bout time Flood got himself a nice girl again. And you, Ana, are by far the nicest girl I’ve seen him with in a ve
ry long time, if not ever.’

  ‘Why are you making Ana blush?’ Noah says, swaying a little as he brings a tray of drinks over to the table.

  ‘Because we’re saying nice things about her, of course!’ Adam says, grinning at him. ‘And wanting to know why she’s hanging about with a reprobate like you?’

  After a few more rounds of drinks and much more banter between the boys, eventually we stagger out of the pub on to the pavement outside.

  ‘Where are you two staying tonight?’ Simon asks, taking a few gulps of fresh air into his lungs.

  ‘A hotel just off the sea-front,’ I tell him. I’m by far the most sober person of the four of us, but even I feel quite giddy as the cool salty air slaps our faces and tries to knock some sense into us.

  ‘You could have stayed with Lucy and me if you’d said you were here overnight,’ Simon says, slapping his own face to try to knock some sense into himself.

  ‘Maybe they wanted a bit of privacy,’ Adam says, nudging him. ‘Nice little hotel – adjoining rooms and so on.’

  ‘Actually we’re in the same room,’ Noah says, his brain obviously not running through with his lips first what he should and shouldn’t say. ‘Twin!’ He waggles his index finger at them, and they giggle and jeer.

  ‘They only had one room,’ I try to say above all the whistling and catcalling. ‘They were fully booked.’

  But it falls on deaf ears, and as we walk back to our hotel with the boys accompanying us as apparently it’s on their way home, there’s much mention of dark horses and all-nighters.

  ‘Seriously, though,’ Adam says, when we reach the hotel, and while Simon and Noah are hugging each other goodbye but actually looking more like they’re trying to hold each other up. ‘You’re a good girl, Ana, and Flood is a good boy… I mean man! He deserves someone like you after what he went through.’

  ‘What did he go through?’ I ask, hoping Adam will spill the beans.

  Adam pats me on the shoulder. ‘A good woman, that’s what every man needs… eh, Foxy?’

  ‘What?’ Simon says, swaying back over to us with his arm around Noah’s shoulders.

  ‘We need a good woman!’

  ‘You speak for yourself – I’m happily married. Well, most of the time.’ He winks at me. ‘Talking of which I’d better get back to her. We’ll see you tomorrow then?’ he asks, while Adam says his goodbyes to Noah now.

  I nod. ‘Yep.’

  ‘There’s some shindig after at one of Lucy’s running mates’ – you can come to that too. I could do with someone to talk to who doesn’t go on about blisters and runner’s nipple all the time.’

  I grin. ‘We’ll see.’

  We wave to Adam and Simon, who wander off along the road happily together, each one holding the other up. Then we head inside the hotel and up to our room.

  Suddenly, I was more than a little apprehensive about sharing a room with Noah. I knew what he was like sober, and more to the point I trusted him, but what I didn’t have any experience of was a more than a little drunk Noah.

  In the last couple of weeks I’d seen Noah change from a quiet, unassuming person to a self-assured businessman at ease in his world of antiques, and then tonight I’d watched him morph again into a lively and boisterous ex-copper, happy and supremely confident amongst his old buddies. I liked a little bit of all those Noahs, but what I didn’t know was, which was the real him?

  I don’t have to worry too much.

  After we get upstairs to our hotel room, no sooner are we through the door than Noah immediately flops on his bed. Well, I say ‘bed’; it’s a bed settee that’s been made up in our absence by one of the housekeeping staff. Noah is so tall that his feet hang over the edge of it.

  ‘Are you all right?’ I ask, removing my jacket and hanging it over a chair.

  ‘Mmmhmm,’ Noah mumbles, his eyes shut. ‘I’ll just lie here for a bit… Top night, though.’

  ‘Yes, it was. Right… Well, I’ll just be in the bathroom then.’ I grab my pyjamas and my toiletry bag, and scuttle into the bathroom to get ready for bed. When I come out Noah hasn’t moved but there’s an odd purring noise coming from his bed.

  I go over to him and gently remove his shoes. Then I try to cover him up with the duvet but find it’s trapped underneath him, so I fetch a spare blanket from the cupboard and place that over him instead.

  I hesitate over Noah’s glasses – probably best if I remove those too as I very much doubt he sleeps in them. Very gently I pull them off, then fold them and put them on the nightstand next to him in case he should need them in the night. Then before I go to my own, very comfortable-looking king-size bed, I take one last look at him.

  Noah looks quite different without his glasses. He was handsome with them, but without I can see all his features in more detail and he’s actually quite striking. His cheekbones alone would put many a male model to shame, but it wasn’t that: there was something familiar about his face, comforting even. Looking at him I feel something unusual stir inside me, and I realise it’s not some strange feeling I’ve never felt before, some random butterflies being unleashed in my tummy at the sight of a handsome man. No, this feeling is one I haven’t felt in a very long time.

  Looking at Noah makes me feel happy. Very happy indeed.

  Thirty-One

  The next morning after we’ve had our complimentary breakfast, we walk down to the sea-front to find Simon and watch the fun run.

  Noah has been quiet all morning. He’d apologised for immediately falling asleep last night soon after we both woke up. He’d also thanked me for removing his glasses and shoes and covering him up, saying it really wasn’t necessary but he was glad I had.

  ‘How are you feeling now?’ I ask him as we walk. ‘You didn’t eat much breakfast.’

  ‘Delicate.’

  ‘Ah, the sea air will soon help with that!’

  Noah grimaces.

  My phone beeps in my bag. I pull it out and see Malachi’s name on the screen. ‘It’s from Malachi,’ I explain for Noah’s benefit.

  Hey, how’s it going in sunny Brighton?

  I hope you and Noah are behaving yourselves ;)

  Just thought I’d send you this photo of Daisy-Rose. She had her first coat of paint last night. Doesn’t she look fine?

  Hope you’ve found out lots of info on our Lou.

  Ralph is missing you, and I guess I am too a little bit.

  M x

  In the photo, Daisy-Rose looks almost unrecognisable from how I remember her. Her patchwork effect has disappeared, and she almost looks like a different vehicle with a new coat of paint. I fire off a quick reply:

  Photo: Amazing, thanks.

  Info: Coming slowly.

  I think for a moment.

  Behaviour: Impeccable.

  A x

  As quick as a flash a reply comes whizzing back.

  Re. Behaviour: Just as well you took Noah with you and not me then, eh?! ;)

  ‘Everything okay?’ Noah asks casually, as we turn a corner and find ourselves slap bang in the middle of everyone preparing for the race. There are people everywhere with runners and spectators mingling together, and there’s a huge banner over the top of road that runs next to the promenade saying START on one side and FINISH on the other

  ‘Er… he was just sending me a photo of Daisy-Rose.’ I enlarge the photo so the text disappears from the screen and show him. ‘She had her first coat of paint yesterday.’

  A couple of runners jog slowly past us warming up.

  ‘Very nice,’ Noah says, looking briefly at the photo. ‘Did he say anything else?’

  ‘Yes, he was just asking how we were getting on… with our search,’ I add quickly.

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘If only that camper van could talk,’ I say, staring at the photo again. ‘I’m sure she’d be able to tell us exactly who Lou was and where we might find her, then we wouldn’t have to be here worrying about finding Frankie. Malachi can do many things for Daisy-Rose, b
ut he can’t give her a voice.’

  ‘No, indeed,’ Noah says, looking around him. ‘So now we are here, we’ll just have to carry on with Plan B.’

  I glance at Noah. He sounded a bit like he had the night of the barbecue – sort of cool and detached. Was it Malachi that was bothering him? Just as well he hadn’t seen what he’d written in the text then!

  ‘How’s it hanging, folks?’ Two arms wrap themselves either side of us and Simon’s head appears through the gap. ‘Ooh, nice camper van,’ he says, looking at the phone in my hand. ‘Is it yours?’