The Beast of Bracksley Woods (7 page)

“I’ve been out patrolling all night and I’ve not seen anything,” Albert answered. Sorry to hear you got attacked. This animal has got to be caught and that bloody poacher put under lock and key.”

“I wish you luck with that one mate. Just don’ ask me again to help you.” Kevin answered as he started up his engine, “See you around, I’m off to casualty to get me leg fixed.”

The next morning was bright and sunny but with a bite in the air. The address was in Bedford and with a mounting feeling of excitement, Debbie made her way to meet Mrs Lomax with all the details of her dinner party service neatly tucked away in her briefcase. Feeling very business-like and not to say a little nervous after all her brainstorming hard work getting it altogether, she rang the doorbell. The door was promptly opened by a lady Debbie judged to be in her sixties. She greeted her Warmly

Saying “Good morning, you must be Mrs Richards Debbie smiled in acknowledgement and followed her into a brightly decorated and comfortably furnished sitting room. The sun was streaming in through the window making the room feel cosy and warm.

“Please sit down and make yourself comfortable, Mrs Lomax invited with a friendly gesture towards an armchair placed conveniently near a small table. “Thank you for sparing the time to come and discuss my requirements. I have invited a few very special guests for a celebratory dinner on Friday evening next week. I want to make it a real occasion. Once upon a time I might have been able to manage a small dinner party with the help of my staff, but times have changed I am afraid and I can no longer see very well, apart from the fact that I have no live-in staff now. I hope you understand you will have to manage the cooking as well as the waiting and serving at the table. Do you have your own helpers? I take it you have brought some menus with you that I could look at, my dear,” she finished. “there will be about twelve guests. Have you got your own staff or do you work alone?” I have to point out that I cannot be much help to you. You will have to organise yourself. Can you manage that number?”

“No problem,” Debbie assured her. I can give you a complete rundown on menus and prices. If you would allow me a quick look at your kitchen and cooking facilities and also your dining room after we’ve had our little talk, that would be most helpful As I am only just setting up my catering service, I will be working alone at the moment. Obviously, as soon as I am able, I shall be employing some casual help where necessary.”

“Exactly,” Mrs Lomax answered seeming satisfied with what she was hearing. “You can explain it as we go along.” I will make notes as we go through the arrangements. You just leave everything to me and I will make sure your dinner party is a resounding success,” Debbie assured her first client.

Two hours later Debbie had the whole thing organised. Now all she had to do is deliver the goods. Things were looking up, she told herself.

In the afternoon, Debbie made her usual visit to the hospital and found Greg in a very cheerful mood. On her early visits to Greg, whenever she entered the ward Debbie would feel her heart start beating. Her gaze would pass over each bed expecting to see Mike’s pale face lying back on the pillows so still. She would hold her breath in fear of what she might find. Mike was the love of her life but gradually, as she grew better acquainted with various other patients in addition to Greg, these reactions had not been so immediate. Now, she did not look round automatically as she had once done on her earlier visits. She began to notice that the awful feelings of emptiness and loneliness were not so intense as they had been and Debbie began to hope that her depression was passing. During the time Greg had spent in hospital, Debbie had made friends with several of the other patients. They all seemed to look forward to her visits especially as she had taken to supplying little treats to go with the afternoon cup of tea. Debbie smiled to see Greg so cheerful.

“What do you think young lady?” he asked as she approached. “I am being discharged tomorrow morning,” he gave a waved to his fellow patients, “So it’s goodbye to this lot.”

“Well! That is good news. I think you may find things a little difficult at first especially not being able to walk very well until your leg comes out of plaster.”

“Ah well. What about our little agreement. Will you come and look after me dear lady?” Greg pleaded.

Greg looked so forlorn that Debbie couldn’t help smiling to herself at the way he wheedled. You old spoofer. Don’t let him think you are a pushover. Toughen up Debbie Richards, she told herself before answering, Let’s get this straight right from the start. “Yes, of course I will help you but I am not going to become your housekeeper. There will be times when you will have to manage on your own. I want to make sure that you understand that because I am about to launch my own little enterprise. We will talk about arrangements when you have settled in and discuss your immediate needs then.” Debbie told him firmly. We must discuss the hours I am available and also, the kind of help I will be able to give you. This is not the best place to have this kind of conversation you know. All you need to know is that everything will be ready for you when you get home and I will be there to meet you and make sure you are comfortable before I have to leave you. How does that suit you?“ she asked looking at him seriously. “I will call in and put the heating on and make you a meal ready for when you arrive. then we will talk it over properly before we go any further. Don’t worry, you will not be neglected,” Debbie added in case Greg needed reassurance.

As she prepared to leave an hour later, Paul Norton came strolling down the ward looking extremely pleased with himself and brandishing the local newspaper. “Have you heard the latest,” He enquired obviously bursting to give them the latest stop press news. “The beast of Bracksley woods has struck again. And guess who it got this time,” he announced.”

“What’s this Paul?” Greg asked mystified at the tone of Paul’s voice. He wasn’t quite sure if he was pleased about something or incredulous.

“ Your old friend Kevin Baxter went after that crazy dog in the woods last night. He didn’t catch the dog but he nearly caught Albert Pike’s poacher only not quite. The funny thing was that the dog attacked him and has bitten him. He has been bitten quite badly on the backside and leg. He was in casualty this morning getting stitched up. Of course, the papers managed to get hold of the story and are calling the creature THE BEAST OF BRACKSLEY WOODS.”

“Oh poor Kevin,” Debbie sympathised. It sounds serious.”

“Paul gave a little smirk. His gaze swept over her before he said Well, he won’t be sitting down for a day or two, that’s for sure.” Debbie caught her breath as she saw the look in his eyes. She looked away and shivered inwardly feeling a tingle run up the length of her spine What on earth was the matter with her? She asked herself. Mike had been the only man for her and she could not BELIEVE the sort of effect Paul Norton was having on her. There seemed to be a magnetism drawing her inevitably towards him and She had no intention of allowing another man anywhere near her. It would be totally unthinkable. On the other hand, she had to admit to herself that Paul was very attractive with bagsful of charm and she did not doubt for a minute that he had plenty of conquest to his credit. He handed the paper to Greg “Here, have a look at this,” he said thrusting it at him as he came to stand next to Debbie.

After a few more minutes discussing the events portrayed in the paper Debbie got up to go. “Just a minute Debbie,” Paul put his hand on her shoulder to prevent her moving. “Will you be in after surgery?” he asked.

“Yes. I haven’t anything planned for tonight.”

“That’s good. I will be bringing Trigger back. He is quite okay now and ready to go home.”

“That’s good. He can go back to his proper home tomorrow now that Greg is being discharged,” she said.

“See you later then,”

Later that evening when she answered the doorbell she was greeted by Trigger’s excited barking. He came bounding in practically knocking her over. “I think you could say that Trigger has well and truly recovered but he will have to keep the bucket on his head. I am afraid he doesn’t like it and tends to misjudge corners and obstacles.” Paul explained as he followed the dog into Debbie’s sitting room. Debbie laughed as Trigger began blundering around the room then feeling rather sorry for him she bent to fuss him and sat down before Trigger had the chance to knock her to the ground.

“This looks nice and cosy,” Paul remarked looking round curiously. “May I sit down?”

“Of course. Can I get you a drink. I have rather a nice bottle of wine in the fridge and I’ve been waiting for someone to share it with,” Debbie ventured feeling quite shy.

“I’m your man,” he answered smiling broadly at her. “before I forget I had better give you the antibiotics for the patient,” he said handing over a small box containing the tablets.

“How are you liking this neck of the woods?” he asked as he seated himself on the sofa. “You certainly seemed to have made a conquest with my old friend Greg. He was telling me that you have agreed to look after him.” “yes, up to a point,” Debbie answered, “We’ll just have to see how it works out. I have plans of my own, you see,” Debbie said looking straight at him. “I picked up my first client today,” she said cheerfully.

“What is it you do?” Paul asked sipping his wine.

“I have always loved cooking and I taught domestic science in the early days of my marriage. I gave it up when my husband was travelling around so much. If I hadn’t, we would have seen very little of each other. He was a sportsman and played matches and tournaments all over the world. I used to go with him, you see,” she paused and then went on to say “I am just starting out on my own. We will just have to see how things work out with Greg. I sort of feel a bit responsible for him as I was the one who found him when he got knocked off his bike. That doesn’t mean that I wish to make him my main purpose In life although I wouldn’t leave him stranded. I will be a one-man-band for a start. I shall be organising private dinner parties. I will have to do everything myself including the cooking. it is going to be really hard work for a start. Apart from that, I intend to bake Christmas and celebratory cakes to order,” so I could get quite busy at this time of year. I really wanted to start a cookery school but with no premises and not enough finance I haven’t been able to organise anything so ambitious,” she said in case Paul was under the impression that she would be at Greg’s beck and call.

“However, I have made a start,” she told him feeling a tiniest bit proud of herself, “ At least, I feel that I am standing on my own two feet.”

Debbie amazed herself at the way she was opening up to Paul. She felt so at ease with him it was as though she could talk about anything to him. Here she was practically telling him her life story. She gave a little smile and let a silence drop between then as she watched as Paul’s eyes swept round the room before lighting on Mike’s photograph.

“You seemed to be well organised,” Paul remarked, “I thought that you have practically agreed to housekeep for Greg. Isn’t that going to take up most of your time?” He asked.

“Not quite. I cannot allow Greg to stop me doing my own thing. Greg is a dear old man but I get the impression that he would really like someone to depend on. I have only agreed to help him where necessary. I don’t intend to become a fixture,” she said firmly.

They sat chatting about Greg for a minute or two then Paul spotted the photograph of Mike in his tennis kit. His eyes rested on the young athletic figure in the frame. “Who’s this?” he asked as he studied the photograph fixedly.

“My husband,” she answered simply. “He died in July from a brain tumour. He was quite well-known as a tennis player. Perhaps you have heard of Mike Richards,” she answered quietly.

Just then there was a tremendous crash coming from the direction of the kitchen. Debbie sprang to her feet.

“What’s happened now!” she said as she ran in search of the disturbance. Trigger had knocked over a chair which had banged up against a cupboard. “No harm done,” she said joining Paul again carrying the bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. “I’ll let you do the honours.”

Paul took the bottle and opener, he lifted the wine to scrutinise the label. “Oh yes,” he approved. “A very good choice.”

She sat down beside him on the sofa as he poured the wine. Debbie found herself talking easily as she sipped her wine. She answered Paul’s questions as he asked about her husband. It had been such a long time since she had talked about Mike. The love that she had felt for him seemed to well up within her and she suddenly felt she could no longer hide her feelings, A stray tear rolled down her face. Paul saw it and his hand came across to squeeze hers in a comforting gesture. That only coursed more tears to flow and before Debbi realised, she was in his arms and he was speaking gently into her ear.

“Shh now. Debbie, dearest Debbie, don’t upset yourself so … don’t cry my love,” he soothed gently. You will find your feet again. Everybody faces tragedy in their lives sometimes apart from those who are exceptionally lucky,” he comforted as he stroked her hair gently. She felt his lips as he kissed her eyelids. Then he found her lips and the familiar tingle ran through her. Suddenly she was alive again and realising what was happening she pulled away from him in alarm.

Waves of guilt swept over Debbie as she fought back a sob, “I’m so sorry,” she choked, “Please forgive me. Mike’s illness and death was such a nightmare. I moved here to get away from London and to start again. All my friends told me that I was making a big mistake to move away from my friends and familiar surroundings. Given time, I’m sure I will be able to settle down”

“I should be the one to apologise. I didn’t mean to upset you. Please forgive me, I am such a clumsy oaf,” he said taking her hand again. “Let us be friends at least.”

“Yes of course we can be friends,” she answered sniffing back more tears.

When Paul left her that night Debbie sat looking at Mike’s photograph. Even to think about another man as she was thinking about Paul made her feel so guilty. She needed time to let the soreness within her heal. She mustn’t allow her thoughts to dwell on Mike so much. She had told herself a thousand times that work and involving herself in other people was the answer to her recovery. Well, she had tried to make a start there but until the soreness in her heart ceased to squeeze it so much, she hardly dare look into the future. Letting go was going to be so difficult.