When Alice Met Danny

Chapter 5

Alice rented herself a car from the station at Exeter. Buses to and from Beauchamp-by-the-Sea appeared to be few and far between. She made a mental note to add a car to her shopping list, when the time came to move out of London.

After threading her way out through the traffic, she soon found herself in the Devon countryside. Easter was approaching and the fields and banks were peppered with daffodils and primroses. The sky was bright blue, the forecast good. She opened a window and breathed deeply. Maybe this change was the right thing at the right time of her life. She felt happier than she had for a long time. This mild euphoria lasted until she reached the offices of the estate agents responsible for the auction.

‘All I can say, Ms Grant, is that you are a brave woman. We have been describing number 23 to everybody as “not for the faint-hearted”. I’m glad you did not find it too off-putting.’ Mr Melhuish, of ‘Melhuish, Melhuish and Seymour’, was a charming man with a florid complexion and a taste for tweed suiting. He emerged triumphant from the key cabinet. ‘Here we are, the keys. Or rather, I should say, the key. We only found the one. None of us managed to make it through to the back door to see if there was a key in the door, but you will find that out for yourself.’

Alice’s expression had moved from surprise to concern by this time. The penny was beginning to drop that there might, after all, be a good reason why there had been no other bidders.

‘If you could just give me directions to the house, please.’ She signed the forms he thrust at her. He looked up in surprise.

‘You don’t know your way there? Do you mean to say you haven’t seen the house?’ He looked bewildered. She just looked embarrassed.

‘Erm, no. You see, I bought in online. Did I do wrong?’ Alice was getting seriously cold feet by this time. ‘Is there something awful about it?’

Mr Melhuish did his best to reassure her, but she could see that he wasn’t finding it easy. ‘Well, you see, it’s like this. The lady who owned the house was a bit peculiar.’ From the way his eyes rolled, this was clearly a considerable understatement. ‘She has since been put into a home where they can look after her. The sale was all done through the local authority to fund her care. You see, she wasn’t what you might call a good householder.’

Alice felt her spirits fall even lower.

He attempted a smile and some encouragement. ‘It’s a good little house, in a lovely position. Once you’ve got it cleared out and refurbished, I’m sure you’ll find it just splendid. I’ve got friends in Lyndhurst Avenue. They all love it there.’ He eased her towards the door. ‘Anyway, it’s easy to find. Turn left, go straight along this street for a few hundred yards and you’ll find Lyndhurst Avenue off to your right. Number 23 is down there on the left. Five minutes and you’ll be there.’

Alice thanked him. As an afterthought struck her, she turned back. ‘Would you be able to give me the name of a good surveyor? Maybe some builders too?’

‘Of course, Ms Grant, you can count on me. And –’ he caught her eye, ‘– I know some very good industrial cleaners.’

Oh dear, she thought to herself as she set off down the road, what have I got myself into?

She discovered the answer to that question less than five minutes later. Lyndhurst Avenue was a charming street, just as Mr Melhuish had told her. The rows of mellow late Victorian houses curved gently down towards the river at the end. Beyond that, a steep hill sloped sharply up to the observatory at the top. The pavements were clear and clean, the houses smart and well looked after. All except number 23.

‘Oh my God.’ She couldn’t stop herself. Her hand shot up to her mouth, but not before she had groaned out loud. A lady with a spaniel on a lead looked across the road at her in concern. Alice ignored her, totally riveted by the apparition before her.

‘Oh, no.’

The front gardens were little more than narrow strips. Whereas all the other houses had filled theirs with flowers and bushes, or at least slabs or gravel, number 23 was a heap of junk. And not just a small heap. The pile of rubbish completely obliterated any view those in the front room might have got. She leant up against the window and peered through the grubby glass. The inside mirrored the outside. The room was packed with an impenetrable wall of stuff.

‘Pretty grim, eh?’ Alice jumped at the sound of the voice. It was the lady with the spaniel. She had crossed the street. ‘You were looking a bit upset, so I thought I’d come over and ask if everything’s all right.’

‘Oh, thank you. That’s very kind.’ She was a friendly-looking lady, who appeared to be in her seventies. Alice did her best to sound positive. ‘Everything’s fine, thank you. At least, I think so…’ Her voice tailed off as she paused, uncertain how or whether to continue.

‘You poor thing.’ The old lady’s eyes were fixed on the key in Alice’s hand. ‘Have you bought this place?’

Alice nodded miserably.

‘Well, you’ll certainly have your work cut out here, no doubt about it.’ Seeing the look of desperation on Alice’s face, she did her best to offer support. ‘But it’ll all work out, you’ll see. Are you going to be all right now?’

Alice collected herself. ‘Yes, thank you. Thank you very much. And I’m Alice, by the way.’

‘Joyce Parker from number 44. Just come and bang on the door if you need anything.’ She gave a cheery wave and set off with the dog once more.

Alice pushed the key into the rusty lock. The paintwork alongside it was greasy with accumulated filth. The key turned surprisingly easily and she pushed it open. The door soon came up against an immovable obstacle and stopped. She stuck her head round the edge and made two discoveries. First, the hall was filled from top to bottom with piles of old newspapers and cardboard boxes. Second, the smell in there was absolutely overpowering. She whipped her head back outside again, desperately blowing the infected air from her lungs. It smelt like a long-dead corpse. Or at least what she imagined a long-dead corpse might smell like. She came very close to vomiting as she recoiled away and slumped down on the low brick wall.

‘You poor thing.’

For a moment she thought Joyce Parker from number 44 had come back. She half-turned. Instead, she saw a friendly-looking younger woman, holding a little baby, standing in the doorway next door. They exchanged glances.

‘Just been inside, have you?’ She gave Alice a gentle smile.

‘Only my nose, but that was enough.’ If the other woman hadn’t been there, Alice would have cleared her throat and spat on the ground. As it was, she burrowed in her bag for a mint. She took one and offered the packet. The other woman shook her head.

‘You look as if you could do with a cup of tea.’

Alice gave her a grateful nod. ‘Anything to get rid of that smell.’

‘Come on in.’ Alice walked back out onto the pavement and along to the next-door gate. The woman ushered her inside. It was a cosy house. There were toys on a sheet on the lounge floor and a huge stockpile of disposable nappies behind the kitchen door.

‘Hello. I’m Vicky. And this little bundle of joy is Daniel. Do have a seat. Do I presume you are the brave person who has bought the loony lady’s house?’ She filled the kettle and turned it on with one experienced hand, while the other still clutched the child.

‘Wrong adjective, I’m afraid. I’m the stupid person. No bravery at all. My name is Alice Grant. Thanks for taking me in.’

‘Why stupid, Alice?’ The little child had fixed Alice with a steady and slightly unnerving stare. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

‘I committed the cardinal sin of buying it online, without coming to see it.’ She snorted in exasperation. ‘And I thought I was a pretty canny sort of person.’

‘Do you want to hang onto Danny for a moment? He’s being a bit grouchy. I’ll just make the tea.’ Alice didn’t have much experience with little children but, before she could put up any sort of objection, Vicky had passed the baby across. She took him gingerly. The child turned towards her and stared hard into her eyes. Alice could see that he was debating whether to bawl the house down. She surprised herself by bending her head towards him and kissing his cheek noisily, while murmuring something incomprehensible. The baby gave a delighted gurgle and treated her to a toothless smile. She sat back up, stunned by the emergence of this hitherto unsuspected maternal instinct.

‘You’ve got a fan there.’ Vicky poured two mugs of tea and set them on the table while the little boy continued to beam up at Alice. ‘The house must have come as a bit of a shock to the system. You looked as white as a sheet back there.’

Alice took the tea with a grateful smile. ‘Thanks. It certainly was a shock. And then there was the smell. It positively reeks.’ She caught Vicky’s eye. ‘You don’t think there’s a dead body in there, do you?’

She got a broad smile in return. ‘No, definitely not. There would be no space for a body to fit in there. Have you seen the piles of rubbish everywhere?’

Somewhat reassured, Alice decided to see how much information she could elicit. ‘So what’s the story, Vicky? Who is – was – the loony lady?’

‘Mary Browning. That’s her name. I’ve only been here since last summer, but my landlord told me all about her. He and his wife lived here for ten years before that and she had already been living here for a good while. When they moved in, she was almost normal, but she went downhill very fast.’

‘What does “almost normal” mean?’ Alice found she was enjoying the feel of the little baby in her arms.

‘Well, they said there were already piles of rubble and rocks in the garden, but the house was reasonably uncluttered. Over the next few years the garden turned into a disaster area. You haven’t seen it yet? You’ll see what I mean when you go round the back. Then it was the turn of the house. She started hoarding stuff until it got like it is today.’ She looked across at Alice. ‘To be honest, that’s why I managed to get this house at a decent rent. Nobody wanted to live next to her.’

‘So what’s causing the smell? Surely it’s more than just dirt?’

Vicky wrinkled her face and gave an embarrassed cough. ‘I’m afraid it’s much, much more than just dirt.’ Seeing that Alice still hadn’t twigged, she found herself obliged to spell it out. ‘The men from the council who came to take her away told me her bathroom was packed solid with junk. Nobody could get into it. So she had no toilet. She had to store everything in the house.’

‘You mean, the house is full of poo?’ Hearing the tone of her voice, the little boy stopped smiling and wriggled. Absentmindedly, Alice kissed him again and he settled down.

‘Last autumn she started dumping it in the back alley. Then she started pouring it onto Lyndhurst Avenue. That was when we called the Environmental Health people.’ She looked up in annoyance. ‘And you know what they said? If you or I were to go out in the street and pee in the middle of the road, we would be committing an offence.’

Alice shrugged her shoulders in agreement.

‘But, if you pee in your own home and then take it out and pour it on a public highway, that’s not illegal. It goes back to medieval times.’

‘Oh, dear Lord, so how did you get her out?’

‘Shortly after that, last winter, she started pouring the stuff,’ she was looking embarrassed now, ‘and I’m not just talking about pee, over the walls into the gardens along the back lane, mine included. The council put up a closed circuit camera and caught her in the act. Well, a number of acts to be honest.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Not nice at all. Anyway, as a result, she was sectioned and removed.’

The little boy had closed his eyes by this time and was drifting off to sleep. Vicky nodded approvingly. ‘Sorry it’s an unpleasant shock for you. But for me it’s wonderful to find that the place is finally going to be cleaned up. And, the fact that the developer is a talented childminder is an added bonus. Danny will be very pleased to see you again. Have you got kids of your own?’

Alice shook her head. ‘No, not yet.’ No sooner had she said it than she found herself wondering why she had used the word “yet”. ‘I’ve been working in London since I left uni. This is the start of my new life.’ Her eyes flicked over in the direction of the dividing wall. ‘Although I didn’t really expect it to start in a house full of poo.

Chapter 6

Alice found accommodation for the night in a charming little bed & breakfast, located in the village of Woodcombe, only a few miles out of town. It was called Drake Cottage. She received a warm welcome from the elderly lady owner. The room was spacious and clean, with a view out over the well-kept back garden to the fields beyond. A young black Labrador was wandering round outside, sniffing the bushes.

‘This is a lovely room, Mrs Tinker. Am I your only guest tonight?’

‘I’m glad you like it, my dear. I only have the one room now. I used to take up to four or five, but it’s too much work for me now. I’m just glad to have the company from time to time.’

‘Is that your dog out there?’ Alice loved the garden and the countryside views.

‘That’s Danny. He’s still a youngster, but he’s a very good dog. Do you have a dog yourself?’

Alice reflected for a moment that she had now been asked if she had a child and a pet, both in the same day. Did this mean that fate was somehow trying to get her to settle down? And a dog and a child with the same name? This reminded her of the other Danny, who would be moving into her London flat in two weeks’ time. Hopefully he wouldn’t pee on any plants. She smiled at the thought.

‘No, we had a cat when I was growing up, but I don’t know much about dogs.’

‘Well, if you want to come down for a cup of tea once you’ve settled in, I’ll introduce you to him.’

When Alice had opened her bag and hung a few things in the wardrobe, she went back down the stairs. Mrs Tinker was waiting at the kitchen door.

‘Come in here, my dear. It’s warmer by the Aga.’

The kitchen was indeed very cosy. The old range heated the room to a very comfortable temperature. As Alice walked in, the black dog climbed out of his wicker basket and trotted over to say hello. Alice hesitated, unused to dogs and a bit afraid of such a big animal. She stopped dead and pressed her hands nervously against her sides while the dog sniffed her.

Mrs Tinker saw her discomfort. ‘Danny, come back here and leave Alice alone.’ The dog turned away as he heard the call and returned to his mistress. ‘That’s a good boy. Now lie down in your basket and leave the lady alone.’ She stroked his head affectionately and then pointed towards the wicker basket. The dog did as instructed. Alice was impressed.

‘You’ve got him well-trained already.’

‘That’s Labs for you. Give them food and they’ll do anything you ask. I dare say I could get him to play the piano if I had a few spare joints of beef. Now, how do you take your tea?’

Mrs Tinker gave her a key to the front door. As she handed it over, she winked. ‘But if you should forget it, I never lock the back door. Well, apart from at night, of course.’

Alice looked up in surprise. ‘But aren’t you afraid of burglars?’

‘I’ve lived in this house for over sixty years without anything happening to me. Woodcombe’s a safe place to live. It’s not like London here, you know.’

They sat and chatted. Alice learned that the village pub, the King’s Arms, served good food. And it was only a few minutes’ walk from the house. She resolved to eat there that evening. The conversation turned to Alice’s reasons for being in Devon. Uncomfortably, she related the story of the house in Lyndhurst Avenue. Mrs Tinker was appalled.

‘I’ve never heard anything like it. How could somebody behave like that? You poor thing.’

‘It’s my own fault, Mrs Tinker. If I hadn’t been so stupid as to buy the place without viewing it, I wouldn’t be in this pickle now.’

‘How were you to know? Really!’ She couldn’t believe it. ‘And you were planning on moving in there yourself?’

‘Well, not immediately. I knew there would be a lot of work to be done first. The agents’ particulars made it clear that it needed complete refurbishment.’

Mrs Tinker was clearly relieved. ‘So, are you going back to London, or are you going to stay down here while the work takes place? Chocolate Hobnob?’ She pushed the packet across the table. A black shadow materialised at Alice’s side. Mournful brown eyes gazed upwards. As Alice took each bite of the biscuit, she felt the dog’s eyes trained on her.

‘Don’t mind Danny. He knows he never gets food off the table, but he tries it on with newcomers. Just ignore him.’

Alice swallowed the last piece and sensed an immediate drop in interest from the floor. She washed it down with a mouthful of tea. ‘I have to go back on Friday, but my plan is to look around for a little place to rent for a few months, while the work gets done.’ She reflected for a moment. ‘Now that I’ve seen the place, I would imagine we are talking about quite a few months.’ She looked round the comfortable kitchen. ‘I don’t suppose I could stay here for six months?’

‘I can do better than that.’ Mrs Tinker set down her mug. She was smiling. ‘Much better. You remember I told you I used to have more guests?’ Alice nodded. ‘Well, you see, I used to put them next door. I own both halves of the cottage. There’s this half with two bedrooms upstairs and there’s next door. It’s sort of a mirror image of this place. Since my George died, I don’t need the space, so it’s just been mothballed, so to speak. Would you like to take a look?’

Alice jumped to her feet. For the first time that day, she began to feel a bit more optimistic. Together, they went out of the back door and through a gate in the fence. The dog was left in the kitchen. Mrs Tinker pulled a key from her apron pocket and opened the back door.

‘Welcome to Duck Cottage.’ She ushered Alice inside. ‘Mine is called Drake Cottage. We didn’t name them. They’ve always been called that. Now, don’t be put off by the chill in here. I can soon get it tidied up, heating on and warm as toast.’

Alice followed her round the little cottage, delighted with everything she saw in there, from the woodburning stove in the lounge to the modern bathroom next to the main bedroom. And the views were, if anything, even better than from next door.

Mrs Tinker tapped the wall behind the bed head. ‘Your bedroom for tonight’s just the other side of there.’ She led her back down the steep little stairway. ‘Well, what do you think?’

‘I love it, Mrs Tinker. It’s exactly the sort of place I was dreaming of.’

‘I’m glad you like it. I’m sure you’ll be comfortable there.’ She led Alice back into her cottage. As they walked in, both of them got a friendly nuzzle from the dog. Alice surprised herself by finding it quite natural to pat his head as he did so. Children and dogs in one day?

‘Now let me see.’ Mrs Tinker sat down again and did some mental arithmetic. After a few moments, she went on to name a rental figure that was less than half what the two-legged Danny would be paying for the use of the London flat. Alice lost no time in accepting.

‘You’ve no idea how happy I am, Mrs Tinker. I thought this was one of the worst days of my life, but I’m feeling an awful lot better now. Now all I need is a good builder. Oh yes, and a surveyor, and a cleaning company with a strong stomach.’ She realised with a start that she was scratching the big dog behind his ear, while he grunted with satisfaction. She carried on in amazement. ‘I don’t suppose you know any good builders?’

‘I can do better than that, my dear.’ Mrs Tinker was enjoying her role as Alice’s saviour. ‘I can introduce you to my nephew. He’s a surveyor, and a good one, I can assure you. And he knows all the builders in the area.’

‘Mrs Tinker, you’re a marvel.’

‘I’m just glad I can be of assistance.’

Chapter 7

The King’s Arms was almost empty at six o’clock. The young man behind the bar was friendly and attentive, and the food menu impressive. She ordered the mixed seafood platter and a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. A sign outside had boasted the existence of free wifi, so she took a table in the corner and pulled out her iPad.

A check of her e-mails revealed one from Nigel, congratulating her on accepting the severance package and repeating his regrets at the board’s decision. She deleted it with a smile. There was also one from Danny. Two-legged Danny, she thought to herself with a smile. He hoped everything was going well and wondered when she would be back in London. She told him she planned to stay in Devon until the end of the week and gave him a brief summary of the day’s events, doing her best to play down the true state of number 23. She ended by giving him the news that she had already found a house to rent. Just a few moments after she pressed Send, her fish arrived.

She had a very pleasant meal for a fraction of the cost of a similar dish in London, and followed it with a fresh fruit salad. She was just finishing when a man came up to her table.

‘Hello. Sorry to interrupt. I’m Peter. Are you Alice Grant, by any chance? I got a call from Auntie Agnes.’ He was a friendly-looking man, maybe in his late forties. ‘She told me there was a maiden in distress and I had to get myself over here as soon as possible.’ He gave her a smile. ‘So here I am.’

Alice smiled back. ‘She’s a wonder, your aunt. I hope I have even half her energy when I’m that age. Thank you so much for coming. Let me, at least, get you a drink.’ She made to stand up, but he caught her shoulder and pressed her gently back into her seat.

‘Maidens in distress don’t buy drinks. What can I get you?’ He pointed towards her empty glass. ‘Another one of those?’

She sat back and nodded gratefully. ‘This maiden in distress business isn’t as bad as it sounds. That would be lovely.’