As she prepared to leave an hour later, Paul Norton came strolling down the ward looking extremely pleased with himself and brandishing the local newspaper. “Have you heard the latest,” He enquired obviously bursting to give them the latest stop press news. “The beast of Bracksley woods has struck again. And guess who it got this time,” he announced.”
“What’s this Paul?” Greg asked mystified at the tone of Paul’s voice. He wasn’t quite sure if he was pleased about something or incredulous.
“ Your old friend Kevin Baxter went after that crazy dog in the woods last night. He didn’t catch the dog but he nearly caught Albert Pike’s poacher only not quite. The funny thing was that the dog attacked him and has bitten him. He has been bitten quite badly on the backside and leg. He was in casualty this morning getting stitched up. Of course, the papers managed to get hold of the story and are calling the creature THE BEAST OF BRACKSLEY WOODS.”
“Oh poor Kevin,” Debbie sympathised. It sounds serious.”
“Paul gave a little smirk. His gaze swept over her before he said Well, he won’t be sitting down for a day or two, that’s for sure.” Debbie caught her breath as she saw the look in his eyes. She looked away and shivered inwardly feeling a tingle run up the length of her spine What on earth was the matter with her? She asked herself. Mike had been the only man for her and she could not BELIEVE the sort of effect Paul Norton was having on her. There seemed to be a magnetism drawing her inevitably towards him and She had no intention of allowing another man anywhere near her. It would be totally unthinkable. On the other hand, she had to admit to herself that Paul was very attractive with bagsful of charm and she did not doubt for a minute that he had plenty of conquest to his credit. He handed the paper to Greg “Here, have a look at this,” he said thrusting it at him as he came to stand next to Debbie.
After a few more minutes discussing the events portrayed in the paper Debbie got up to go. “Just a minute Debbie,” Paul put his hand on her shoulder to prevent her moving. “Will you be in after surgery?” he asked.
“Yes. I haven’t anything planned for tonight.”
“That’s good. I will be bringing Trigger back. He is quite okay now and ready to go home.”
“That’s good. He can go back to his proper home tomorrow now that Greg is being discharged,” she said.
“See you later then,”
Later that evening when she answered the doorbell she was greeted by Trigger’s excited barking. He came bounding in practically knocking her over. “I think you could say that Trigger has well and truly recovered but he will have to keep the bucket on his head. I am afraid he doesn’t like it and tends to misjudge corners and obstacles.” Paul explained as he followed the dog into Debbie’s sitting room. Debbie laughed as Trigger began blundering around the room then feeling rather sorry for him she bent to fuss him and sat down before Trigger had the chance to knock her to the ground.
“This looks nice and cosy,” Paul remarked looking round curiously. “May I sit down?”
“Of course. Can I get you a drink. I have rather a nice bottle of wine in the fridge and I’ve been waiting for someone to share it with,” Debbie ventured feeling quite shy.
“I’m your man,” he answered smiling broadly at her. “before I forget I had better give you the antibiotics for the patient,” he said handing over a small box containing the tablets.
“How are you liking this neck of the woods?” he asked as he seated himself on the sofa. “You certainly seemed to have made a conquest with my old friend Greg. He was telling me that you have agreed to look after him.” “yes, up to a point,” Debbie answered, “We’ll just have to see how it works out. I have plans of my own, you see,” Debbie said looking straight at him. “I picked up my first client today,” she said cheerfully.
“What is it you do?” Paul asked sipping his wine.
“I have always loved cooking and I taught domestic science in the early days of my marriage. I gave it up when my husband was travelling around so much. If I hadn’t, we would have seen very little of each other. He was a sportsman and played matches and tournaments all over the world. I used to go with him, you see,” she paused and then went on to say “I am just starting out on my own. We will just have to see how things work out with Greg. I sort of feel a bit responsible for him as I was the one who found him when he got knocked off his bike. That doesn’t mean that I wish to make him my main purpose In life although I wouldn’t leave him stranded. I will be a one-man-band for a start. I shall be organising private dinner parties. I will have to do everything myself including the cooking. it is going to be really hard work for a start. Apart from that, I intend to bake Christmas and celebratory cakes to order,” so I could get quite busy at this time of year. I really wanted to start a cookery school but with no premises and not enough finance I haven’t been able to organise anything so ambitious,” she said in case Paul was under the impression that she would be at Greg’s beck and call.
“However, I have made a start,” she told him feeling a tiniest bit proud of herself, “ At least, I feel that I am standing on my own two feet.”
Debbie amazed herself at the way she was opening up to Paul. She felt so at ease with him it was as though she could talk about anything to him. Here she was practically telling him her life story. She gave a little smile and let a silence drop between then as she watched as Paul’s eyes swept round the room before lighting on Mike’s photograph.
“You seemed to be well organised,” Paul remarked, “I thought that you have practically agreed to housekeep for Greg. Isn’t that going to take up most of your time?” He asked.
“Not quite. I cannot allow Greg to stop me doing my own thing. Greg is a dear old man but I get the impression that he would really like someone to depend on. I have only agreed to help him where necessary. I don’t intend to become a fixture,” she said firmly.
They sat chatting about Greg for a minute or two then Paul spotted the photograph of Mike in his tennis kit. His eyes rested on the young athletic figure in the frame. “Who’s this?” he asked as he studied the photograph fixedly.
“My husband,” she answered simply. “He died in July from a brain tumour. He was quite well-known as a tennis player. Perhaps you have heard of Mike Richards,” she answered quietly.
Just then there was a tremendous crash coming from the direction of the kitchen. Debbie sprang to her feet.
“What’s happened now!” she said as she ran in search of the disturbance. Trigger had knocked over a chair which had banged up against a cupboard. “No harm done,” she said joining Paul again carrying the bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. “I’ll let you do the honours.”
Paul took the bottle and opener, he lifted the wine to scrutinise the label. “Oh yes,” he approved. “A very good choice.”
She sat down beside him on the sofa as he poured the wine. Debbie found herself talking easily as she sipped her wine. She answered Paul’s questions as he asked about her husband. It had been such a long time since she had talked about Mike. The love that she had felt for him seemed to well up within her and she suddenly felt she could no longer hide her feelings, A stray tear rolled down her face. Paul saw it and his hand came across to squeeze hers in a comforting gesture. That only coursed more tears to flow and before Debbi realised, she was in his arms and he was speaking gently into her ear.
“Shh now. Debbie, dearest Debbie, don’t upset yourself so … don’t cry my love,” he soothed gently. You will find your feet again. Everybody faces tragedy in their lives sometimes apart from those who are exceptionally lucky,” he comforted as he stroked her hair gently. She felt his lips as he kissed her eyelids. Then he found her lips and the familiar tingle ran through her. Suddenly she was alive again and realising what was happening she pulled away from him in alarm.
Waves of guilt swept over Debbie as she fought back a sob, “I’m so sorry,” she choked, “Please forgive me. Mike’s illness and death was such a nightmare. I moved here to g
et away from London and to start again. All my friends told me that I was making a big mistake to move away from my friends and familiar surroundings. Given time, I’m sure I will be able to settle down”
“I should be the one to apologise. I didn’t mean to upset you. Please forgive me, I am such a clumsy oaf,” he said taking her hand again. “Let us be friends at least.”
“Yes of course we can be friends,” she answered sniffing back more tears.
When Paul left her that night Debbie sat looking at Mike’s photograph. Even to think about another man as she was thinking about Paul made her feel so guilty. She needed time to let the soreness within her heal. She mustn’t allow her thoughts to dwell on Mike so much. She had told herself a thousand times that work and involving herself in other people was the answer to her recovery. Well, she had tried to make a start there but until the soreness in her heart ceased to squeeze it so much, she hardly dare look into the future. Letting go was going to be so difficult.
The next few days were busy for Debbie. Greg came home from hospital and she made sure that the place was clean and tidy and that he got fed regularly. She made it clear to Greg that he would have to get someone in to do his cleaning for him. She thought she might know just the person he needed and offered to look into finding someone. She went to Mrs Harrison in the shop and asked if Mrs Brown would be able to give Greg a couple of hours in the morning to clean up for him. Mrs Harrison promised to pass the message on to Mrs Brown and asked her to give Debbie a ring. Things were soon sorted out between them and Betty Brown was installed at the farm cleaning up for Greg and leaving him a meal. This didn’t stop Debbie from calling in frequently to make sure he was all right and taking Trigger out for walks and doing shopping for him. Debbie had taken Trigger back home when Greg was settled hoping that the dog would provide him with a bit of company when no one else was around. There were also hospital visits to be arranged for Greg. He needed to attend a clinic for physiotherapy so Debbie drove him there and brought him back. All the extra jobs took time but Debbie didn’t mind. It kept her mind occupied and from wandering onto other things.
Things seemed to be working out for Debbie. The dinner party for Mrs Lomax was a great success. Mrs Lomax was full of praise and promised to recommend Debbie to all her friends. To her surprise, one of the ladies present that evening booked her for a similar gathering nearer Christmas and Debbie took her details so that she could call round and arrange the evening properly. All in all, Debbie was pretty proud of her efforts. She had even picked up a couple of orders for Christmas cakes. She loved doing these because it gave her a chance to use her artistic skill in icing and decorating a cake. She had even decorated a marvellous creation for Greg. Debbie had promised to cook Christmas dinner for Greg on Christmas day. He had already invited Paul and Kevin round to share the meal with him. Of course, the invitation also included Debbie who silently resolved to make sure the fellows did their share of the washing up afterwards. Debbie was amazed to realise how quickly Christmas seemed to have crept up on her. She purchased a pack of Christmas cards and busied herself one evening writing them for various friends she had known during her time In London and friends they had made during their travels. Where possible she just dropped a note in with the card letting people know that she was okay and filling her life with good works.
By the time Debbie saw Kevin again, his stitches had been removed and the wounds had almost healed. Unfortunately, there had been no more sightings of the vicious dog who had attacked him that night in the woods a few weeks ago. Debbie and Greg were deep in conversation about the new kennels that were being built. The building could start after Christmas Kevin informed Greg just as long as the weather held up. Everybody seemed to be looking forward to the coming festivities. Even poor Trigger had got the bucket off his head and the stiches removed.
Debbie threw herself wholeheartedly into the coming festivities trying all the time to turn her mind away from remembering the last Christmas she had spent with Mike. His health had been slipping badly by then. He was unable to play tennis anymore and had developed several other worrying symptoms. They both did their best to ignore the fact that Mike was having difficulty in walking and seeing properly. They had spent the holiday with Mike’s parents in a small village of Sandy in Bedfordshire not far from where she was living now. It seemed such a long time ago since Debbie had seen Sheila and Jeff Richards. She must give them a ring Debbie reminded herself, to make sure they were doing okay after Mike’s funeral which was the last time she had seen them. Turning her attention strictly away from these memories she focussed once again on getting the arrangements ready for the Christmas dinner party at Broadmead Farm and promptly forgot to telephone.
On Christmas eve while Debbie was busy putting the finishing touches to the traditional turkey dinner which she planned to take up to the farm early the following day and finish off in Greg’s oven, the doorbell rang. Debbie was astonished to find Sheila and Jeff Richards standing on the doorstep. “Well … what a surprise!” Debbie exclaimed. “Why didn’t you ring and warn me you were coming. Please come in out of the cold,” she added opening the door wider.
The elderly couple trooped in and Debbie ushered them into the sitting room. “Take your coats off while you are indoors, otherwise you won’t feel the benefit when you go outside again,” Debbie instructed cheerfully. “I’ll put the kettle on for a warm drink for you. It is very cold out there,” she said heading towards the kitchen.
Jeff cleared his throat before saying in a small voice, “Actually my dear, we have come to throw ourselves on your mercy. You see, our power supply is run by oil and they have failed to deliver it for some reason. Unfortunately, we are not the only ones in the village to be left stranded with no heating, there are others but they are going away for the holiday. We wondered if you would mind having a couple of guests for Christmas.” “You must stay here. Of course you must. When I have made you a warm drink you go and fetch your things in Jeff,” Debbie told him.
“Thank you very much Debbie,” Sheila said gratefully. I didn’t know how I was going to cook a Christmas dinner and I feel so embarrassed to land ourselves on you like this.”
“Think nothing of it. I am glad to help, although I have to explain that I am cooking a Christmas dinner for some friends and we will be eating at his farmhouse.”
“Oh, I see. I hope we are not intruding,” Sheila said looking worried.
“Not at all. You must join us as well. Don’t worry, the turkey is enormous so there is plenty to go round.” “Is that what we can smell cooking at the moment,” Jeff inquired sniffing appreciative.
“Yes, that’s right. I am getting everything ready today and just taking it up to the farm in the morning and warming it all through,” Debbie explained. “Maybe you could lend a hand Sheila. What do you think.” “Yes, of course. I would be glad to help,” Sheila answered. Then she asked. “Won’t your friends mind us gate-crashing their dinner party?”
“No, not a bit. Greg is quite elderly and his friend Kevin is a RSPCA Inspector and Paul is the local vet. Greg hasn’t long been out of hospital with a broken leg and arm. His leg is still in plaster so he can’t walk very well but his arm is getting better although the plaster is not off yet, at least he can use it.”
“Oh dear,” Sheila said, “Did he have an accident?” “It’s a long story. I’ll fill you in later. Let’s have a cup of tea, it’s just ready now.” Debbie went to the kitchen and brought in a tea tray. Placing it on the table she proceeded to pour out three cups of steaming hot tea. As soon as they were comfortable and warm Sheila asked “Do you regret moving down here dear. We were a little worried about you. It must have been quite lonely for you at first. We didn’t think you would settle. After all, you had been travelling so much and then you lived in London. We thought you would miss all your friends.”
“Well I must say, you seemed to have taken to country life pretty quickly what with a farmer an RSPCA Inspector and a vet for friends
,” Jeff grinned at her attempting to lighten the conversation. “I told you Jeff, it’s a long story,” Debbie answered. As the evening drew in they spent the time chatting and reminiscing. Mike came into the conversation and although the mention of his name still had the power to wound, Debbie found that talking about him was easing. She realised that Jeff and Sheila also needed to talk about the son they had loved and lost and Debbie felt comfort in being able to talk with them without hiding what she was feeling. She was glad they had come. Perhaps Christmas wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Christmas day dawned bright and sunny. There had been a heavy frost overnight making the landscape looked like a Christmas card. It was bitterly cold and Debbie couldn’t help thinking what a blessing it was that Mike’s parents had sought refuge with her. At least she could offer them a few home comforts until they were able to return to their own home.
The day was going to be busy so Debbie was up early and prepared breakfast for her guests before leaving for Broadmead Farm. She took Sheila and Jeff a cup of tea and explained that she would be back for them later. In the meantime, they were to take their time and have breakfast which she had left ready for them down stairs. This would give her plenty of time to have a private word with Greg to tell him they had extra guests for dinner. Greg was delighted and said they were very welcomed. It was a pleasure to have so many guests to share Christmas with. His previous Christmas days evidently had been spent more or less alone. Always one for a soft story Debbie’s heart had gone out to Greg when she learned from Mrs Harrison at the shop that Greg’s wife had walked out on him years ago leaving him to bring up his young daughter alone. Mandy had turned out to be a disappointment to him. She had gone off the rails a bit as she got older and Greg seemed unable to control her. She had gone off with an undesirable character from a local fair which had settled in the district for a couple of weeks. In spite of a police search for the seventeen year old Mandy, they had been unable to find her. By the time they got round to catching up with the fair on the road, the couple had flown. Years later, Greg received a letter from Mandy informing him that she was now married and settled in Canada. He heard nothing from her after that. One day a letter arrived from Canada from a Solicitor informing him that Amanda Stevens had been killed in a road accident.
The Beast of Bracksley Woods Page 6
