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Authors: Marcia Willett
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the pub?’
Tilly nods. ‘I’ve been offered a few extra hours a week on Saturday mornings and I’ve got some money saved, which helps keep the car on the road, but I really just want to be certain that Dom isn’t feeling … you know … pressured.’
‘Dom’s loving it. My advice is stick with it, stay positive about U-Connect, but don’t be distracted from what you really want to do. In a way, the hotel job was ideal for you. You relish a challenge, the opportunity to work with people. Don’t go for second best because it didn’t work out. Keep watching for the right opening and, meanwhile, I think it’s great that you and Sarah are making a success of U-Connect. It’s always good to strive for something.’
‘“A man’s reach should exceed his grasp”?’
Billa raises her eyebrows and draws down the corners of her mouth. ‘Browning? I’m impressed.’
Tilly laughs. ‘There was another bit but I’ve forgotten it. Sir Alec said it. You’d really like Sir Alec, Billa. Ex-diplomat. He’s lovely. Shall I introduce you?’
‘I’m not above meeting lovely men. I imagine this is one of your clients?’
‘I’m doing a database for him. He’s a bit up the creek now that his wife has died and he needs some organizing. He lives in Peneglos. You know? Where Sarah is.’
‘I don’t know the village. It’s a bit off our radar over on the coast there. But yes, bring him to tea. We can show him the tadpoles. Ed’ll love it.’
‘I might just do that. He and Ed would get on brilliantly. Piles of books everywhere.’
‘How old is he?’ asks Billa, suddenly suspicious.
‘About the same age as Dom,’ says Tilly evasively. ‘Probably a bit older, but you don’t think about his age when you’re with him. He’s really fun. A wonderful voice and nice twinkly eyes.’
‘Hmm,’ says Billa. ‘A lovely man with a wonderful voice and twinkly eyes. Can’t wait. Got his phone number?’
‘Customer confidentiality,’ says Tilly primly. ‘You’ll have to contain your excitement.’
They part at the door and Tilly walks down the lane to Dom. She feels confident again; certain that she’s doing the right thing in giving U-Connect the chance to grow, for Sarah’s sake if not her own. She opens the door, shouts a greeting and drops her bag on the chair in the hall. All is well.
CHAPTER SIX
The second postcard arrives the next morning. Billa takes the post into Ed’s study but he isn’t there, though his laptop is switched on and a CD is playing Jacques Loussier’s interpretation of the Allegro from Bach’s ‘Italian’ Concerto. She drops the other letters on to his desk and turns the postcard over, barely glancing at the picture.
‘On my way. Tris.’
The postmark and the stamp are French; the date is smudged but she makes it out to be three days earlier. He could be here at any moment; driving up the lane, knocking at the door. She turns the card to look at the picture, a reproduction of a Victorian artist, and a strange, complicated emotion pierces her heart. A dog – a terrier – sits gazing out, head on one side, ears pricked. Its pointed, foxy face has an enquiring, intelligent expression; one paw is raised as if it is poised for action.
‘Bitser,’ murmurs Billa.
The past is crowding upon her so strongly and unexpectedly that her heart beats fast, her eyes burn with tears and she swallows several times. She feels the rough rasp of Bitser’s wet tongue on her hand, the warm weight of his body in her arms. Bitser, that adorable, impossible puppy, was given to her as a birthday present from her father less than two years before he died.
* * *
There had always been dogs, well-behaved, good-natured gun dogs, but this was the first time either she or Ed were allowed a puppy of their own. He was brought in to birthday tea in a hatbox immediately after Billa had blown out her eight candles whilst everyone sang ‘Happy Birthday to You’ and clapped. The box was set
Tilly nods. ‘I’ve been offered a few extra hours a week on Saturday mornings and I’ve got some money saved, which helps keep the car on the road, but I really just want to be certain that Dom isn’t feeling … you know … pressured.’
‘Dom’s loving it. My advice is stick with it, stay positive about U-Connect, but don’t be distracted from what you really want to do. In a way, the hotel job was ideal for you. You relish a challenge, the opportunity to work with people. Don’t go for second best because it didn’t work out. Keep watching for the right opening and, meanwhile, I think it’s great that you and Sarah are making a success of U-Connect. It’s always good to strive for something.’
‘“A man’s reach should exceed his grasp”?’
Billa raises her eyebrows and draws down the corners of her mouth. ‘Browning? I’m impressed.’
Tilly laughs. ‘There was another bit but I’ve forgotten it. Sir Alec said it. You’d really like Sir Alec, Billa. Ex-diplomat. He’s lovely. Shall I introduce you?’
‘I’m not above meeting lovely men. I imagine this is one of your clients?’
‘I’m doing a database for him. He’s a bit up the creek now that his wife has died and he needs some organizing. He lives in Peneglos. You know? Where Sarah is.’
‘I don’t know the village. It’s a bit off our radar over on the coast there. But yes, bring him to tea. We can show him the tadpoles. Ed’ll love it.’
‘I might just do that. He and Ed would get on brilliantly. Piles of books everywhere.’
‘How old is he?’ asks Billa, suddenly suspicious.
‘About the same age as Dom,’ says Tilly evasively. ‘Probably a bit older, but you don’t think about his age when you’re with him. He’s really fun. A wonderful voice and nice twinkly eyes.’
‘Hmm,’ says Billa. ‘A lovely man with a wonderful voice and twinkly eyes. Can’t wait. Got his phone number?’
‘Customer confidentiality,’ says Tilly primly. ‘You’ll have to contain your excitement.’
They part at the door and Tilly walks down the lane to Dom. She feels confident again; certain that she’s doing the right thing in giving U-Connect the chance to grow, for Sarah’s sake if not her own. She opens the door, shouts a greeting and drops her bag on the chair in the hall. All is well.
CHAPTER SIX
The second postcard arrives the next morning. Billa takes the post into Ed’s study but he isn’t there, though his laptop is switched on and a CD is playing Jacques Loussier’s interpretation of the Allegro from Bach’s ‘Italian’ Concerto. She drops the other letters on to his desk and turns the postcard over, barely glancing at the picture.
‘On my way. Tris.’
The postmark and the stamp are French; the date is smudged but she makes it out to be three days earlier. He could be here at any moment; driving up the lane, knocking at the door. She turns the card to look at the picture, a reproduction of a Victorian artist, and a strange, complicated emotion pierces her heart. A dog – a terrier – sits gazing out, head on one side, ears pricked. Its pointed, foxy face has an enquiring, intelligent expression; one paw is raised as if it is poised for action.
‘Bitser,’ murmurs Billa.
The past is crowding upon her so strongly and unexpectedly that her heart beats fast, her eyes burn with tears and she swallows several times. She feels the rough rasp of Bitser’s wet tongue on her hand, the warm weight of his body in her arms. Bitser, that adorable, impossible puppy, was given to her as a birthday present from her father less than two years before he died.
* * *
There had always been dogs, well-behaved, good-natured gun dogs, but this was the first time either she or Ed were allowed a puppy of their own. He was brought in to birthday tea in a hatbox immediately after Billa had blown out her eight candles whilst everyone sang ‘Happy Birthday to You’ and clapped. The box was set
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