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Authors: Patsy Collins

Firestarter (16 page)

BOOK: Firestarter
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Alice didn't think life could get much better and there were another whole five days of this to come.

 

 

 

Chapter 16

 

The next morning Alice learned that, although having hot sex with a member of the emergency services did indeed cure any emotional issues a person might have, doing it whilst your hair was still damp left you looking like several pairs of fishnet stockings had exploded over your head. She discovered this fact after Hamish, already dressed, ruffled it up even more and declared, 'I'm not taking the blame for that!' She didn't need a mirror; the bits she could see to either side of her face were quite enough to make the point.

'You so are!'

'Really? Shall I leave you alone tonight so you have time to attack it with a steam iron or whatever you usually do?'

'No, I'm sure it'll be fine.' She attempted to pull it straight.

'It already is fine. Totally wild, but fine. Anyway, once we get outside the wind will mess it up again.'

'Good point.'

When she got to the bathroom she saw her hairstyle was even more bizarre than she'd imagined. Wasn't there a Greek goddess or something who had hair so scary it turned men to stone? Alice reckoned she could give her a run for her money. Actually, the way she was feeling she could compete with any goddess. Other than her hair she looked pretty good. Her cheeks were rosy from the wind the day before and her eyes sparkled from the evening's activities. She'd slept really well for the same reason and, she checked the watch she'd left in the bathroom, for about ten hours! No wonder Hamish had enough time to clean up the bathroom and she could smell breakfast cooking.

When she joined him he was reading a book. He seemed to have everything ready and to have been waiting for her. She'd only washed, slathered on moisturiser and the minimum of make-up and run a wet comb through her hair before dressing; she was going to have to learn to get ready much more quickly. Still, at least Hamish didn't seem the sort to tut disapprovingly if she'd not managed to get her hair dead straight or that her nail polish didn't go with her lipstick or worse, had a chip. Alice gave her fingernails a quick check. Perfect.

'You OK?' Hamish asked.

'Absolutely.' She gave a bright smile to prove it. 'What are you looking up?'

He handed her the book, which was open at the page for choughs and pushed a mug of tea towards her. Choughs, chuffs... did all Welsh birds have daft names? Thankfully she'd taken a swig of tea as she read, so it dawned on her the two were the same thing before she'd asked the question. There was a line drawing of the bird, which she didn't think would be much help in identification even if the thing were perched on the kitchen table waiting for toast.

'How many eggs?' Hamish asked.

'Eggs?' She'd seen enough sausages, bacon, tomatoes, fried bread and mushrooms to feed a family.

'From chickens, I promise. I haven't just gone and raided a gannet's nest.'

'I believe you, it's just I'm not used to a cooked breakfast.'

He turned away.

She moved over to him and tentatively squeezed his shoulder. 'Sorry, I didn't mean I didn't want it.'

He kissed her cheek. 'I knew you couldn't refuse my sausage.'

He wasn't annoyed then? But of course he wasn't Tony and not everyone sulked when they'd done something unexpected which wasn't greeted with total delight. Really she should stop expecting him to be like Tony... and she should stop behaving like Tony's girlfriend.

'I can't,' she agreed. 'One egg please and I'd like some of your mushrooms too.'

'If that's a euphemism it sounds a bit kinky, so obviously I'm up for it.' He winked. 'Maybe we'd better wait until after breakfast though, it's nearly ready.'

'Fair enough.'

He dished up the food, all of it looking perfectly cooked including the eggs.

'I'm impressed. The only times I've tried I broke them.'

'I get plenty of practice. We take it in turns cooking for our watch and as everyone loves a fry up, we have that a lot.'

Alice ate a lot more breakfast than she thought she'd manage, but nowhere near as much as Hamish got through.

'Your turn to wash up,' he told her when they'd finished.

He was right; there was no sign of last night's dinner dishes. She quite liked that she was expected to help out, not being treated just as a guest.

'Once you've done that, how long before you can be ready to leave?' he asked.

'Leave?'

'The choughs won't come to us.'

'Right. No, of course not. I'm ready, just need to put on thick socks and a jumper.'

'Excellent. Just leave everything on the rack to drain.'

Hamish made hot chocolate in the microwave and filled a flask, dropped the spoon and jug into the sink for her to wash, then left the kitchen. He'd returned by the time she had the plates and pans clean.

'All done,' she said. Then, 'Ah,' when she saw he was holding her crazy orange jumper, a pair of bright pink fluffy socks, boots and coat. 'Will it totally mess up your schedule if I use the toilet first?'

'Thirty seconds. Twenty-nine, twenty eight...'

She was pretty sure he was kidding, but ran anyway. No way would she be back before he'd finished, but if she didn't put on some hand cream and lip-salve she'd have rough skin and chapped lips all day. Surely hands soft enough to slide over his body and kissable lips were worth waiting for? She'd better do what she said she was going to do too; the beautiful scenery probably didn't come with en suite facilities.

'Minus one million and three, minus one million and four,' he said as she returned to claim her warm clothes.

'You're definitely exaggerating. A million and four seconds is two hundred and seventy-seven hours and two minutes and even I don't take that long.'

'You don't?' He gave a mock astonished expression.

'No. I expect it'll take you longer to work out I'm right and be impressed by my mathematical genius.'

'You're right and I'd need paper and pencil. Come on, jumper, socks, boots.'

'Gosh you're bossy.' She put on her socks.

'I am, but today I have an excuse.'

'Oh?' She pulled her sweater over her head, flicked her hair free and immediately wished she hadn't. It had probably looked better like that and wouldn't have blown about.

'The tide.'

'I thought you said choughs were most likely to be seen over grass.' Alice laced up her left boot.

'You'll see.'

Alice laced her right boot. 'Just my coat and I'm good to go.' She could put on her gloves, hat and scarf as she walked. She didn't have to though as once he'd locked the cottage door he unlocked the car.

'There's a good spot to see them a few miles further along the coast and as the weather isn't guaranteed to be this good later in the week, I think we should go today.'

'Fine with me.' She struggled into her coat; not easy with the seatbelt on. 'So describe them to me again.'

'Choughs?'

'Yes, them.'

'They're crows. If you see them in flight, which is most likely if we see them at all, the wings look like they have fingers, and the tail will be spread out like a fan. They're black all over except for the legs and beak which are about the colour of your lovely jumper.'

'You like it?'

'Yep. Well, I like that you have it more than the thing itself. A girl who'd wear that on a date obviously isn't someone who takes themselves too seriously.'

'And you thought I might do that?'

'Seriously perhaps isn't the right word. I'd only ever seen you perfectly dressed, made up and with not a hair out of place. I mean you looked good, you always look good, but you also looked a bit high maintenance. I liked that you'd wear something fun but a bit odd if it kept you warm. Made you seem like the sort of girl who'd borrow completely loony wellies to wade through mud and who could survive in a Welsh cottage for a few days without needing to visit a salon or something.'

'Ah.' She was both of those girls. For the last couple of years Tony had kept one of them suppressed. She'd let that happen, but she'd learnt something from her mistake.

Hamish indicated and slowed to turn into a car park. If she was going to make her point, she'd better do it now. 'Yes, I can do that, but not all the time. I like to wear nice clothes, have smooth shiny hair and get made up, and all that takes time. I can be quick, but I won't always want to. OK?'

He just looked at her for what seemed a long time. She felt herself blushing, but held his gaze. She really wanted things to work out between them, but for that to happen she had to be the real Alice Bakewell, not a watered down version she hoped he'd approve of.

'Yes, OK.'

It felt like they'd made a pact.

Hamish carried a small rucksack and gave Alice his binoculars. They walked along a cliff path, stopping occasionally to scan the heather covered ground in search of choughs.

Alice spotted four crow type birds strutting about. She raised the binoculars. She couldn't make out any red bits, but they were definitely black all over. 'Is that them?' She handed over the binoculars.

He looked where she was pointing.

'Just to the left of that green bushy thing,' she said.

'Four together?'

'Yes.'

'Half a point. Right family, but they're carrion crows. Choughs are that shape and size and they're likely to be in groups too, but you'd see the red beaks and legs from here.'

'Carrion crows are what Sausage-Snowball is, aren't they?'

'Have another point, young lady. Even though I know you've been trying to lure him away from me.'

'Didn't need to try.' So he did know she'd been back to the sanctuary. Odd he'd not said, but then neither had she. Maybe he, like her, didn't want to make a big deal out of it. Suited her; she'd go sometimes if she felt like it but didn't intend to feel pressurised into making it too regular an occurrence.

When they reached the highest part of the cliff he gave her back the binoculars.

'Where should I look?'

'Behind you and down.'

Not sure if he was kidding, she turned and looked down. 'Oh!' There were seals; dozens of them. She used the binoculars. 'Awww, they're so cute. Look at their lovely whiskers and those sad puppy dog eyes.'

Hamish told her they were grey seals and when they all came onto the beach like that, it was known as a haul.

'I can see why. There's one coming out now and he really is hauling himself along. Don't get the grey bit though, speckled seals would suit them better.' She continued to watch them, laughing as one scratched itself and another rolled over a bit to raise one flipper off the ground. 'Look, that one's waving at us. Oh sorry...' She handed him the binoculars.

They took turns in watching the seals, pointing out any interesting activity to each other. In truth the seals didn't do very much, but were entertaining nevertheless.

'I've only ever seen the odd one in the sea with just his head showing, before,' Alice said. 'They always seem like they're watching whoever is watching them.'

'They probably are. My cousin is a wildlife cameraman and says that when he's walking amongst them it can be hard to get natural looking footage as they always turn to face him.'

'So, it's normal for them to be out the water like this?'

'Yes, they spend a lot of time out of the water. It's warmer for them, I think. At high tide they're obviously closer to the cliff and so harder to see from up here and they only use quiet beaches where people rarely go, so unless you're in the right place at the right time, you would only see them in the water.'

So he'd been in a hurry so she didn't miss seeing the seals, not because he was impatient to see the choughs... and she'd given him the 'you'd better get used to waiting for me' lecture. Ooops.

As they watched, the tide crept in and the seals hauled themselves higher up the beach until they were lost from view.

'That's your lot for today. If the weather keeps dry we can come back another day.'

'I'd like that. Thank you for bringing me to see them.'

'No problem. You do owe me a chough though.'

If one of them was payment for last night's massage, Alice was hoping to see a flock large enough to keep her in credit for the next seventy years. He'd said they were rare; were there that many in the country? She asked Hamish.

'There are about three hundred and fifty breeding pairs.'

'Nowhere near enough.' If they spotted every single one, that still worked out at less than once a month.

'No, it's a shame. Efforts are being made to increase the population and at least numbers do seem to be holding steady, which is good.'

'Yes.' She supposed people didn't light candles and run baths for the birds. Probably they just made sure they had plenty of food and had somewhere private to go. Which reminded her, she might have eaten a massive breakfast, but that was hours ago and they'd walked quite a way since then, all of it uphill. 'Have you got chocolate in that rucksack?'

'I might have.'

'Did you know that chocolate eating is a well-known aid to chough spotting?' Alice asked.

BOOK: Firestarter
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