Part 20 (2/2)

Also, most interestingly, she appeared to be all alone, as she had been the first time they met, and when he'd seen her in the street. That made him wonder. Was she divorced ... widowed, or maybe she'd got family responsibilities and she had never married?

More questions, he thought. And no answers.

'I'm not really sure if I can help,' the taxi driver interrupted Dave's thoughts, 'but if I do manage to discover the driver's name, I'll drop a note off at the Meridian, if I'm in the area.'

In fact he had no intention of digging about for information. He was simply angling for a bigger tip when he dropped this seemingly love-struck pa.s.senger at his destination.

'Thanks. I would appreciate that.' Dave was onto the driver's little scam. No doubt at the end of this journey, he would be holding his fist out for a more generous tip than normal. But he might be disappointed.

Dave's thoughts returned to the mystery woman, and the night he and Nancy had met her.

Back then, he thought she might be in some kind of trouble, or she would surely never have been hiding inside the shelter, especially on such a miserable night. Nancy had pointed out at the time that the buses were not scheduled to run from that particular shelter any more, which meant she was not waiting for a bus. So what was she doing there, and why did she run away so quickly after they turned up?

Since that night, he had not been able to shut her from his mind. There was something about her ... something so innocent and fragile. He just felt a need to scoop her up and hold her safe.

And how odd for her to be on the same train as himself.

Realising he had thought of her as 'his woman', he called her image to mind. She was very special, though it was difficult to say quite why, and the thought of not seeing her again, now he knew she was here in this little seaside village, made him sad.

He did not believe it was a s.e.xual attraction, and, besides, she did not come across as being s.e.xy or dare he say it not even what you might call 'delicate'. Or even 'beautiful', as the taxi driver had noted.

So, what was it that had attracted him to her?

He made an effort to a.n.a.lyse the reason he was so drawn to her. Maybe it was because that night at the bus shelter, she had seemed such a sad and pitiful soul that he felt the need to wrap his two arms about her, and make everything all right. In a kind of ridiculous way, he had likened her to a shy little rabbit he once had as a small boy.

He had loved that little rabbit so very much, and because he was shy himself, and not very good at mixing with other boys, the little grey rabbit became his best friend. When, at just a year old, the rabbit had died, he had been utterly devastated.

Now he gave a wry smile for likening that dear little rabbit to the lonely woman. Feeling somewhat foolish, he shook the ridiculous idea firmly from his mind.

So why was he attracted to this shy, lonely woman? Maybe because he knew what it felt like to be both shy and lonely ... so that in this woman he saw himself. Was that what had drawn him to her?

No! He also quickly dismissed that idea, because he and the woman were not the same. She seemed too painfully shy, and appeared to like her own company. Also, whatever troubles he had and over the years there had been plenty he would never hide away in a bus shelter. He would fight to do something that might change the situation get out there and face the demons, as he had had to do many times.

But then again, how was he to know whether or not she was already facing her demons? Was that why she was in the shelter? To work it out ... to think of a way to deal with her dilemmas?

The taxi driver was right when he said that this woman was no beauty, and yet, in another way, he was totally and utterly wrong, because she did have beauty of a kind. Maybe it was not evident to all, but he himself could see it.

He had seen it today. In the softness of her person, and the gentle sadness in her eyes. In the manner in which she probably cared little about herself, and yet she would be kind and sympathetic to those who needed a friend.

He suddenly realised that the essence of her sadness was who she was, and therein lay the beauty. A beauty more precious than perfect skin, or made-up eyes, or a fas.h.i.+onable hairstyle. She did not flaunt herself. Indeed, he imagined that this woman probably did not even know how very beautiful she truly was.

Somehow or another, in ways he could not understand, she had managed to get inside him, without even trying. Would she laugh in his face if she knew how intrigued he was with her? He did not believe so.

Suddenly his drifting thoughts were drawn back to the work in hand. What would Nancy say if she knew he was asking about a woman he had seen on the train someone he did not even know?

With Nancy in mind, and now that his thoughts were beginning to focus, he remembered that he had much work to do. He should focus on what he was here for, and fate would determine if he met the mystery woman again before it was time to go home.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

STEPPING OUT OF the taxi, Lucy was amazed to realise that the hotel was much the same as she remembered, although it appeared to have been recently renovated.

She was pleased to note that the chosen architect had retained some of the period character and that the new was in keeping with the old.

With her heart beating faster, and the warmest of memories in her mind, she stood on the pavement taking in the scene, her senses heightened by the salty sea air and her glad heart beating fifteen to the dozen because she was really here ... in Littleton ... her childhood joy, and fantasy playground.

For one poignant, fleeting moment, she was that little girl again, standing outside this very hotel together with her mum and dad, and her baby sister.

The magical nostalgic moment was threatened as she thought of Paula. Even now, she found it difficult to believe what she had seen with her own eyes: Martin and her sister, fornicating, so lost in each other that it took a while for them to realise she was even there.

Forcing the hurtful memories to the back of her mind, she took stock of the hotel again.

Surprisingly, she felt the same excitement looking at it now as she had when she first came here as a child.

The Edwardian windows were tastefuly retained, with the brick surround having been renovated to reveal the characteristic zigzag pattern on the bricks. The gla.s.s in the windows had been replaced, but with the same attention to detail as elsewhere. Noticeably, the panels at the top of each pane were in keeping with the period.

The narrow, wooden front door that Lucy recalled from her childhood was now replaced with a welcoming wide gla.s.s facade, which was respectfully flanked by two long patterned gla.s.s panels. Far from spoiling the surrounding period detail, the new additions served to enhance the stalwart character of the original.

Now Lucy's attention strayed towards the tiny harbour, where the colourful fis.h.i.+ng boats and pleasure craft merrily bobbed on the s.h.i.+fting water.

Contented, her sorry heart was uplifted, and when she smiled it was as though she had let the suns.h.i.+ne in.

Here, in this quiet place, she felt at home. She felt her parents' gentle presence and her tears came almost without her realising. They brought a soothing sense of peace to her troubled soul.

She recalled how her mother would go over and over their first visit to this haven 'when you and Paula were just a twinkle in your daddy's eye'.

Lucy heard the same story many times from her mother never her father, who would grow embarra.s.sed and escape to the pub.

On that first visit here, they had been so young and in love, Lucy recalled.

With the sound of seagulls in her ears and the cloudless, blue skies above, she stole a few quiet moments just to look and listen, and fill her senses with the peace and beauty around her.

She was soon brought back from her daydreams by the taxi driver's impatience. 'Hey, lady! While you're off daydreaming, I hope you won't forget the clock is still ticking away here!' In truth, he did not care one jot ... so long as he got his money.

'Oh!' Lucy had momentarily forgotten him, and now she was panicking again. 'Oh ... I'm sorry.' She opened her handbag and drew out a stream of bits and pieces: handkerchief, lipstick, a box of hairclips and two mouldy sweets that she had overlooked, but no purse.

Ramming the things back into the bag, she dipped her hand into her coat pocket and, thankfully, withdrew her purse. 'How much is it, please?'

When he advised of the cost of her daydreams, she gulped hard, but said nothing.

Instead, she quickly paid the fare with a smile and a bright 'Thank you', while reminding herself that she must be careful not to squander the meagre amount of money she had managed to acquire. The prospect of not being able to recover the precious articles from the p.a.w.nshop made her feel physically ill.

With that grim thought firmly in mind, she gingerly counted out an extra coin or two, which she tipped into the driver's outstretched hand.

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