Chapter 51
Dougie was sat on his front doorstep enjoying the evening sun. Alfie was snoring loudly at his feet, tired from another day of endless and fruitless searching. Dougie had a large bowl of pasta on his knees and was munching happily away on the slightly undercooked penne, so done because of ravenous hunger, rather than any appreciation of the concept of al dente. He’d added his own delicious version of bolognaise sauce, adjusted so far from the true recipe as to be unrecognisable in order to accommodate the ingredients in his fridge. The radio was playing in the background and Dougie was happy just to be sat resting, tired from another strenuous day’s work on the steep slopes of the Crychan Valley.
The phone rang and he got stiffly to his feet and fetched it, stretching the cable out to allow him to return to his resting place before he answered it. “Ye’ ’ello,” he said in his usual way.
“Hi, is that Dougie?” said a voice that he almost recognised but not quite.
“Yes,” he said slowly, trying to place the accent.
“It’s Alex here, Lettie’s sister. I hope you don’t mind me ringing, but I wanted to talk to you…”
“No, that’s fine. How are you?” he said tentatively, not sure what to think.
“I’m fine, we’re all fine. How are you?”
“Yes, I’m fine too.”
“Good, then everyone’s fine,” laughed Alex. “Doug, it’s none of my business, and you can tell me to bugger off whenever you want to, but I just felt I needed to explain something about Lettie, just to make sure, before you two never speak again. Is that OK?”
“OK,” he said slowly, running his hand through his hair, wiry from the day’s sweating under a protective helmet.
He sat on the step, for once ignoring all the people walking by, his frown showing his concentration. As he listened, there was a stream of exclamations from him: “Oh my God, I had no idea,” was followed by, “I just thought…” and, “Oh, poor Lettie. I never stopped to think something like that might have happened”.
“So, what I was going to suggest,” said Alex eventually, “was why don’t you just pop down to see her? See us? I think she feels she’s blown it and you’re not interested and if you tried to phone, well, it just gets awkward. Whereas, if you were there, you’d sort something out – if you wanted to, that is,” she added quickly, not wanting to force him into anything he didn’t want. “There’s plenty of room at our house if you wanted to stay with us, or both have dinner with us on Saturday night. But it’s up to you.”
Dougie’s mind was racing with excitement and caution jumbled together in a writhing mass.
“But, what if… What if she doesn’t want to see me?”
“Oh, I think she will,” said Alex with her older sister voice.
“Well, when?”
“I happen to know that she is working Friday night and Saturday until about three and that she has Sunday off. And she has nothing planned for her free time, because I have asked her if she’ll help me spring clean the shop.”
“So, seeing me would be preferable to that I am sure!” laughed Dougie, “I could be her escape route.” He thought for a few short seconds and then said, “Thank you, Alex, I’d love to come. Thank you for phoning and thinking of us – it would be terrible if we hated each other after all this effort, but at least it would be from a point of knowledge.”
“Exactly,” she replied, “be there, or spend the rest of your life wondering!” They made a few more arrangements, said their goodbyes and hung up their phones.
Dougie stood up, stretching out his back from the day’s heavy hauling and clutching the phone in his strong hand. He put it back on the kitchen table and stood for a few seconds with his lips pursed. Then he walked slowly to the cupboard under the stairs, not noticing the dried mud falling from the treads of his rigger boots, and opened the door. He reached in and carefully retrieved a large cardboard box. He gently pulled off the tape that held it shut and delved inside. Then he took out two pictures that were neatly wrapped in newspaper and taped up with far more Sellotape than was truly necessary.
The paper was removed and he sat back on the floor to look at them once more. Walking into the dining room, he re-hung them in the two spots that had goaded him for the last few weeks with their bareness. One drawing was of a beautiful lake with a couple of dogs swimming and the other was of a wooded parkland with two strange folk standing with sandwiches in their hands, staring intently into his eyes.
Stepping back to admire it, he nudged the sleeping Alfie with his rigger boot. “Right you, let’s get that ribbon back on – we’re a goin’ courtin’.”