The Partridge and the Pelican by Rachel Crowther

Author:Rachel Crowther [ Crowther, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-9568476-1-4
Publisher: Bookline & Thinker
Published: 2011-02-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 26

Faith felt rather sorry for herself on the journey back from Aldeburgh. It had been a lovely weekend, she thought, but – what? Was it just the usual down-in-the-dumps feeling you got at the end of a break, or had there been something missing, something she’d been expecting?

Something about James, perhaps. Not feeling as sure of him as she’d hoped after two days together. But that was stupid: how could she doubt anything after that last half hour? She slid her hand around his shoulder.

“Thank you for taking me.”

He glanced sideways at her. “I thought you’d like it. Everyone loves it there. Shame we didn’t get into the sea, though. Have to do that next time.”

James had found a place near Chelmsford that served food all day, according to its website, and they were both surprisingly hungry by the time they arrived. It looked promising from the outside, a pretty village pub with hanging baskets planted up for winter colour, but when they got inside there were no other customers, just a sour atmosphere you couldn’t mistake. The barman glowered at them as though they’d walked in on a private argument, and perhaps they had. They could hear dogs barking furiously out the back somewhere.

“Yes?” he demanded.

James and Faith exchanged glances. They ordered a drink each, drank it down in a hurry and walked out again, leaving a tenner on the bar. For damages, James said later, though Faith wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that.

“What the hell was going on there?” he asked, as they pulled out of the drive. “I reckon there was a body involved somewhere.”

Faith laughed, fighting off disappointment.

“What my Dad would call a domestic,” she said.

“But all those dogs howling.” James raised his eyebrows, playacting. “Spooky, eh? Perhaps they’re on the menu? When he’s finished cooking up his wife, that is.”

“Don’t.”

They drove through the outskirts of the village, between rows of identical grey houses strung along the main road that led to the dual carriageway. Certainly no other pubs in sight. James sighed, and Faith had the fleeting impression that it was her he was fed up with. There it was again, that sense of something she couldn’t put her finger on, hanging over their weekend. Malevolent, that was the word. A malevolent spirit, somewhere. Definitely in that pub. And she wanted lunch, too, now she’d worked herself up to it.

“What shall we do?” asked James. “Try somewhere else?”

But it was almost half past three by then, too late for even a late lunch. They stopped for petrol on the M25 and James bought sandwiches and crisps. He grinned when he saw Faith’s expression.

“Oh dear,” he said. “I’ve let you down. What can I do to make it up to you? Shall I take you out for dinner when we get back to Oxford?”

“Don’t worry,” Faith said, though she hoped he’d insist.

“Another night, then? When are you free?”

Faith shook her head. “I’ve got functions all week,” she said. “My first free evening is next Wednesday.

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