Iain and Ginger drove out of Newcastle after the hearing at the police station, heading south. By the time they got to Wiltshire, both were extremely tired and it was nearly midnight.
As they turned off towards Sexton Bassett, Iain said quietly, ‘I’ve been working out what’s best to do. Let’s dump the things from this van in your flat, then spend the night at my house. There’s a bed made up ready to fall into, food in the fridge, everything we need.’
‘Can’t we just go straight there and leave my things in the van till morning?’
‘Unfortunately, I have to make a really early start tomorrow and I’ll need to load up my van with plants first thing. There’s a new load of plants arriving at my garden centre early in the morning, you see, and I need to clear the space for them. Since I’ll be taking some of the plants I remove to Saffron Lane, I can drop you there then. What do you think? It won’t take us long to unload the van if we simply dump your things and leave.’
‘All right. I can manage one more effort.’ She felt rather shy as she added, ‘I may not be very good company tonight but I’d rather be with you after all the … the hassles with Donny. You’ve been such a comfort.’
‘So you’ll share my bed, even if it’s only to sleep?’
‘Yes. Happy to. After all, you’ve shared mine. And sleeping isn’t the only thing you’re good at.’
He grinned. ‘I might say the same of you. In fact, it’s a pity we have to get up so early tomorrow.’
‘Yes. I’m sure I’m going to love living in Saffron Lane, though. The houses look good now that the modernisations are finished.’
‘Angus and Nell are eager to finish the gardens as soon as possible, then they’ll look good too. There’s not a lot of work to do on Bay Tree Cottage now, just the planting and finishing, which I shall enjoy. Be done completely in a couple of days.’
‘You’re not taking out the bay tree, are you? I love its rich green colour.’
‘No, of course not, but I’m going to clear round it and plant some low flowering shrubs. They’ll look good against it.’
She roused herself when they arrived at Saffron Lane, got out quickly and opened up Number 1. They took the bigger furniture through to her flat and dumped it more or less in place and put the boxes and bundles along one wall.
She wasn’t too tired to smile at him when they finished. ‘It’s been an eventful couple of days, hasn’t it? I’ll cook you a nice breakfast while you’re loading the van in the morning.’
‘Now you’re talking. Something that’s quick to eat but filling. We won’t have time to attend to our other needs. Not then, anyway.’
She could feel herself flushing at the warmth of his gaze. Oh, he was such a lovely man!
When they got back to Iain’s house, Ginger was surprised at how big it was, situated to the left of his garden centre in walled grounds of its own. And surely it was quite old?
He parked the van at the side of the car park and took her through a high gate and along a path to the house. ‘How about a quick bowl of cereal then bed?’
‘Good idea. You’re not the only one who gets hungry.’
After they’d eaten, he took her up to his bedroom. ‘Make yourself at home, love. I just want to check that the centre and house are properly locked up. It’s something of a nightly ritual for me.’
She tried hard to stay awake till he got back, but could feel herself jerking in and out of consciousness, so gave up the attempt. She felt so comfortable when she was near him, awake or asleep. It was … miraculous and … he was … wonderful.
As Warren was getting ready for bed, there was the sound of another vehicle. He watched a big van pull up at Number 1, keeping its headlights on the front door. The old tart got out and fiddled with a key, only she didn’t look as tarty without that dye job on her hair. But whatever she looked like now, her embroideries would never match his sculptures. No, he didn’t need to worry about her. He’d beaten her once and would beat her every time if she tried to push herself forward.
With the outside lights of the house switched on, the driver backed the van to and fro till its rear doors were opposite the front door, then switched off the engine and began to unload, stopping a couple of times to give Mrs Tart a quick hug or a kiss.
She hadn’t wasted any time giving him what a man needed from a woman.
Oh my, aren’t we cosy together! Warren thought sourly. How long will that last?
He sighed as a big yawn overtook him, and made his way slowly up to bed.
He hoped the Dennings would appoint male artists to the other residency positions or he’d be outnumbered. Surely male artists would have a more businesslike attitude to their work?
Come to think of it, he didn’t know many artists, male or female. He’d been too busy getting his own skills up to scratch.
That was what counted, not chit-chat and drinkie-poos, as Michelle called them.