Without A Song

Chapter TwentyTwo: Leaving Old Dereham

It was early the next morning and George was still out running when I went through to the kitchen. Rupert and Leanne were having breakfast and Charlie was on her way down from her room. We spoke between mouthfuls of tea, granary bread and rye toast.

"What time are you leaving? Are you still meeting Terri Golding?"

"Got to be gone from here by midday Rupert, I'm meeting Terri and John Choplin at half-twelve in Dernewell."

"You have any last minute things to do?"

"Not last minute. I'd like to spend some time by the pool and transfer some of my belongings to your barn please?"

Leanne raised her head to ask the question but the look that passed between Rupert and I silenced her.

"I'll give you the key." He took a pad from his inside pocket, wrote a number on the top sheet, tore it off and gave it to me. "You can use that shelving beyond those filing cabinets I showed you."

"Thank you Rupert. Are you hanging around until I'm gone?"

He rose and collected his belongings. "I'm away, I have a client at Lakenheath before lunch and meetings in Norwich all afternoon."

Rupert came across and shook my hand, his grasp was solid.

"Stephen, as always it has been great having you here, I only wish it could have been longer. You will always be welcomed here whenever you return."

"Rupert you and your wonderful family have given me a place to escape. Thanks to you all I've achieved all of that and more. It's been everything I needed, it may not have been quiet but it was certainly fun. I could never have wished for more."

"Well that's that, I must be off."

Rupert kissed his wife just as Charlie entered the room, in time to run across and kiss goodbye to her father. When they were done the three of us followed him out to the front drive and waved as he drove away. Back in the kitchen I finished my mug of cold tea before Leanne poured me another from a fresh pot.

"How do you do that?" asked Charlie.

"It's just tea," I smiled, "There's no rules about drinking it hot or cold."

"Yuck."

"What's yuck?" George was back and wiping herself down.

"Cold tea."

"No problem, do it all the time, I rarely get time to sit around and drink it hot. You wait Sis. By the end of next year, you fast track doctors won't have time for tea let alone time to drink it."

Charlie stuck her tongue out at her sister but George was too knackered to care and left to shower upstairs. I buttered my toast with something pertaining to be buttery in taste, if not in substance, and took it outside to the gardens with my refilled mug.

"Hello stranger," Patricia was sat under a cherry tree, "Do you want to be alone?"

"Last morning, just want to get my thoughts in place. There's plenty of room for the both of us. I'll sit over there." I pointed to a spot behind her.

"Do I frighten you that much?"

Acid sweet undertones rose in her words although her message had a glint of humour in it. I thought back to the previous night when she was worried for her granddaughters. She's alive I thought.

I upped the ante. "Do you mind if I join you or are you afraid of my shadow?"

"Are you always this unpleasant to my generation?" Ouch!