Where Memories Are Made (8 page)

BOOK: Where Memories Are Made
10.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
CHAPTER EIGHT

A
l was feeling very chuffed with himself. Jackie, up to her eyes in work, had entrusted him with the daily checking of the camp to make sure everything was as it should be. He meant to be very vigilant and justify her trust in him.

As he arrived outside in the courtyard he spotted a couple over by the photograph kiosk, looking at snaps the photographer had taken of them during their time here, deciding which to buy and take home as reminders of their holiday. For no particular reason a vision of his parents rose up. Despite their strict ideas of what was expected from him, and the way they'd refused to take account of his wishes, he did love them and miss them very much, dearly hoping that one day they could reconcile their differences.

Satisfied that everything seemed to be in order around the fountain area he went into the Paradise building, then on into the theatre. After speaking to the staff and finding they had no problems to report, he crossed to the row of shops, nursery and surgery to do the same there. After that he was heading down to the outdoor swimming pool when he stopped short. In the distance, heading down the path towards the indoor swimming pool, he saw three men. They didn't look like holidaymakers to Al. They were very smartly dressed and one in particular seemed to be having a good look round as he walked. Al thought they might be inspectors making a check to ascertain that Jolly's was keeping to the standards set up by the relevant government bodies. Officials used to visit his father's engineering works at least once a year to check that safety standards were being maintained, so Al knew this happened. He wondered if he should tell Jackie about them, then realised she would already know of their inspection tour as they would have had to clear it with management beforehand. So he forgot about the men and went on his way.

He was approaching the sports field to speak to the on-duty Stripey there while a father and son three-legged race was in progress. The spectators were making a deafening din, cheering on their favourites. Sadness filled Al as he reflected that his own father would never have felt it fitting for a man in his position to participate in such an event. Al's reflective mood was swept away when he saw Ginger come hurrying up the path towards him.

Not hiding the fact that she was pleased to see him, she said jocularly, ‘Skiving, are you, Al, or on official business?'

‘Official,' he told her. ‘I'm taking Jackie's place today, doing the daily walk around as she's busy.'

‘Oh, well, you're just the man I need then. I was on the way up to the office to report that some of the campers down on the beach aren't happy. Donkey Sam hasn't shown up and the kids are bawling their eyes out after their mams and dads promised them a donkey ride only for no donkeys to be seen anywhere. I have to say that in all the four years I've worked at the camp, I've never known Sam to skive off once. Makes me think there's something not right.' Ginger had tried a few times to afford Al the opportunity to ask her out but without any success. Never one to miss another opportunity, she continued, ‘Oh, while you're here, Al, there's a few of us going into Mablethorpe tonight after work, if you fancy meeting up with us?'

Al liked Ginger and was well aware how much she liked him. She might not be a beauty but there was something very infectious and endearing about her and he would very much have liked to accept her invitation. But he hadn't the money to spare as all his savings were being put towards his plans for the future. ‘Thanks for asking but I've other plans for tonight,' he said.

She tried to hide her disappointment by giving a nonchalant shrug. ‘Oh, well, I hope you have a good time. I'll let you get on with finding out about Donkey Sam. I fear there'll be a riot on the beach if he doesn't show soon.'

Frowning in thought, Al watched her as she hurried off up the path towards reception. He wasn't quite sure what to do. Should he go back to the office and pass on this information to Jackie for her to deal with the problem, or should he try and resolve it on her behalf? It was probably just a simple case of Sam being under the weather and not reporting the fact yet, which Al could deal with to save disturbing Jackie. He knew where the donkey man's shed was. Part of it he lived in, and in the other part he kept his donkeys. Jackie had pointed it out during Al's initial tour around the camp when he had first come to work there.

Arriving at the shed fifteen minutes later, Al could hear the donkeys braying inside the building. He went over to Sam's side and knocked on the door, calling out, ‘Sam, it's Al. You don't know me but I work with Jackie in the office. You're not down at the beach today so we assume you aren't feeling well. Do you need the nurse fetched?' He received no reply so called again, ‘Sam, can you hear me?'

When he once more received no response it occurred to Al that maybe Sam was unable to speak because he was unconscious. ‘I'm coming in,' called Al.

He unlatched the door and went inside. To his surprise he found the room empty with no sign of Sam at all. In fact, his bed didn't look as if it had been slept in, it was so neatly made. Al frowned. Jackie had told him that Sam was never seen without his donkeys, they all went everywhere together. The camp joke was that no woman would put up with coming eleventh in line behind ten donkeys and that was why Sam had never had a relationship, let alone been married. So if the donkeys were all in the shed, where was Sam?

Then Al realised that while he was here, Sam might be on his way to the office to report why he wasn't down at the beach today or had maybe called in at the surgery for treatment, not taking his donkeys with him for once.

Al was about to return to the main camp and resume his tour of duty when the soft sound of crying reached his ears. He stood and listened. Someone was very upset by the sound of it, and whoever it was was in the donkeys' part of the shed.

He went to the other door, opened it and poked his head around. Several donkeys were bunched together in one corner. Another was lying lifeless on its side a few feet away. A man he assumed to be Sam was lying beside the fallen donkey. He had his arms around its neck, his head resting on it, and was quietly sobbing. So this was the reason Sam hadn't appeared on the beach today. One of his beloved donkeys had died.

Al had never had a pet as his parents wouldn't entertain the idea of an animal in any way fouling their home, so he found it difficult to understand why people became so attached to them. He eyed the other donkeys tentatively. If it was possible to read a donkey's expression he could swear blind they were all staring at him, warning him to leave their beloved owner to grieve in private for their dead friend. The next thing he knew they were all heading towards him. Panic reared up in him. He wasn't going to wait around to find out what their intentions were. Al spun round in his tracks. In his haste to put some distance between himself and the donkeys, he not only forgot to shut the shed door behind him but instead of turning left to head back down the rutted path and join the tarmac one that would take him by the staff chalets and maintenance buildings, he turned right and the next thing he knew he was fighting his way through dense undergrowth and trees behind the donkey shed. Despite the snags to his clothes and scratches to his face from sharp branches that assailed him as he forced his way past, he had no intention of going back the way he'd come.

It seemed to Al that he'd been pushing his way through this jungle for miles, though it was actually only a few yards, when to his relief he suddenly stepped out into the far end of an overgrown yard. Across the cobbles stood a dilapidated house. There were holes in its slate roof, weeds sprouting out of spaces in the crumbling mortar between the bricks, guttering hanging down in places, broken glass in all the upstairs windows. The outbuildings were equally as decrepit, as was the large barn to the rear. From where he stood all the buildings looked to be in such a sad state of neglect that it seemed as if they could come crashing down like a house of cards with one good push. It was apparent no one had lived here for many years, except maybe the odd tramp. Jackie had briefly mentioned on the commencement of Al's temporary assignment that originally the site the camp stood on used to be a farm. What he had stumbled across must be the old farmhouse.

He was about to cross over to the other side of the yard and see if he could find another way out when he stopped as an idea began to take form. As it took shape, excitement began to swirl within him. This place might just have the potential to provide him with the space and privacy he needed for his work … Dare he hope that at least part of the house was habitable?

He knew that what was on his mind amounted to trespass, but as long as he was extremely cautious when coming and going he shouldn't be caught. Besides, only Sam came anywhere near this isolated place while leaving and returning to his abode with the donkeys on the other side of the thicket. Al had managed to get here by pushing his way through the undergrowth, but surely there must still be the original way in through a farm gate. Hopefully that was out of sight of Sam's shed, relieving Al of the worry of Sam accidentally seeing him coming and going.

It was all very well his formulating these plans, but it would be a total waste of time if no part of the house was habitable. The fact that he was supposed to be carrying out the daily check of the camp temporarily forgotten, Al hurriedly picked his way across the uneven, thickly weeded cobbled yard and over to the farmhouse to look in through a filthy window.

Dust motes danced in the light shining into the room beyond. To Al's acute disappointment he saw that the ceiling had caved in and several beams, splintered wood and chunks of plaster were piled in the centre of the floor on top of what looked like a sofa. Above the debris, lying at a precarious angle, was an old iron bed-frame which had obviously fallen through the ceiling. As it had come crashing down, the remnants of the ticking mattress and bedding that had still been on it at the time, now rodent-shredded and moth-eaten, were tossed into a rumpled heap. Al looked up through the huge gaping hole and into the room above. He saw the ceiling in there had come down too, and could see straight through the attic and on via a large hole in the roof to the sky above. To his great disappointment this side of the house was completely uninhabitable.

Praying for better luck on the other side, he made his way past the front door in the middle of the house and over to the other window, again shielding his eyes to look through it. This time, to his delight, Al could see that the room beyond looked to be intact, its ceiling too. Ribbons of cobwebs hung down from the plaster. In the centre of the room stood an old pine table with chairs around it, a dresser at the back of the room, and an old-fashioned black-leaded range which dominated the wall to the left of him. Sitting on top of it were several battered, blackened pans and a kettle, all covered in a thick layer of dust like everything else he could see in the room. An old pot sink sat under the window Al was staring through. A huge brass tap protruded over it, turned green and mouldy with age. The wooden draining board to the side of it, judging from the lumpy shapes visible under layers of dust and cobwebs, still held crockery.

Al's excitement mounted. With some hard work to clear it up, this room would suit his needs perfectly. Then another thought struck him. What in fact was stopping him from using this space not just as a work room but as living accommodation too? From what he had observed there was enough furniture lying around to meet his needs. The rent he saved he could put towards obtaining materials much sooner than he would otherwise have done and bring his plan for his future to fruition all the quicker. He would just need to pay for a couple of blankets, a pillow, a primus stove to cook on, and some candles or a paraffin lamp to see by since it was obvious this house had never been connected to mains electricity. Now he just needed to find a way in.

He went across to the front door. It still looked fairly solid, but like the window frames the door frame was badly rotted. It wouldn't take much effort to get the door open; a crowbar would do the deed. He would buy one along with some cleaning materials tonight on his way home from work and bring them all with him tomorrow, finding somewhere to hide them away from Jackie's inquisitive eyes so that he could begin on the clean up after work tomorrow night. Hopefully he would have the room habitable in a couple of evenings and then all that remained was for him to transfer his possessions and, as he accumulated the money, his working equipment and materials. He would do that at night under cover of darkness. Now he just needed to find a more suitable access point than the way he had arrived.

Though it was almost obliterated by couch grass and weeds and it was doubtful it would ever open again without falling to pieces, Al was delighted to find the farm gate. Leaning over it, he looked in the direction of Sam's shed. He was pleased to see a clump of trees at the bend in the overgrown path, which should prevent Sam from seeing down to the gate should he happen to look this way from his shed. To the front of Al the path weaved along for a short way then seemed to come to an end as far as he could tell. Overgrown grass and weeds filled the space, telling him no one had headed over this way for a season at least. As long as he was extremely vigilant when coming and going, no one need ever know he was here.

He felt like he had a dozen jumping beans in his stomach, so excited was he about this surprising turn of events. This could prove to be the chance he needed to turn his dreams for the future into reality. He began to make more plans in his mind for what he needed to do to get matters moving. Then it suddenly occurred to him that if he lost this assignment with Jolly's he could wave goodbye to the golden opportunity and so had better get back to what he really should be doing.

About an hour later Al burst breathlessly into the office just as Jackie was about to go and organise a search party for him, thinking that somehow he'd got himself lost despite the signposts all around the camp-site to guide holidaymakers around. She exclaimed, ‘Thank goodness you're back! I was beginning to think you'd had enough of Jolly's and gone home. I was just about to call the agency to send another temp.'

BOOK: Where Memories Are Made
10.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Winds of Autumn by Janette Oke
Los hombres sinteticos de Marte by Edgar Rice Burroughs
Blue Moon by Danielle Sanderson
LadyTrayhurnsTransgression by Mary Alice Williamson
UndeniablyHisE by Christa Wick
Dark Surrender by Ridley, Erica
Dusk Falling (Book 1) by Keri L. Salyers