DCI Phelps Boxset by Wonny Lea

Author:Wonny Lea
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Going to Nantes

‘I thought it would be pitch black but the sky is already getting lighter,’ remarked Matt. They had been travelling just over an hour, had crossed the Severn Bridge and were well into English territory, making excellent progress. ‘It’s not exactly busy, but it still amazes me how many people are on the road at this hour of the morning.’

‘The official sunrise time this morning is five thirty and the weather forecast for today is good, so within the next half hour or so it will really be daylight. Let me know if you want to stop at any point, because unless you do I’m happy to do this journey without a break. I feel quite surprisingly wide awake,’ said Martin. ‘I know this route very well as my Aunt Pat had relatives living in Parkstone. We spent at least a week with them every summer holiday, but I’m sad to say I’ve only visited twice since she died.

‘That happens,’ responded Matt. ‘When we were kids our parents took us to Bournemouth seven years in a row as a friend of my dad had a holiday cottage. Last year my eldest sister, Laura, took her family on a caravan holiday in the same area and they came back after two days. Laura said she kept expecting Mum and Dad to be sitting on deckchairs and looking out for them as they had done when she was last there. It spooked her and she has vowed to take her family somewhere different every year and not turn any one place into a potential shrine.’

They fell in to a companionable silence, and both men took in the beauty of the countryside as the sun woke up and the shadows of the night were lifted to reveal England’s green and pleasant land. Weeks of constant rain, followed by just a few days of warm sunny weather, had transformed the landscape, and now the green of the hills and the view of animals grazing in the pastures were just like a verse by William Blake.

After less than two hours’ driving, Martin turned the car onto the A350, and heading in a south-easterly direction soon had Poole well and truly in his sights. ‘We should be there within the next half hour, and that will give us plenty of time to stretch our legs with a walk around the harbour, before going to the ferry port. I don’t want to be among the first cars onto the ferry because that will mean we’re the last off when we reach Cherbourg. We can get coffee and something to eat on board.’

The very thought of food sent Matt’s stomach into a merry dance: after all, it was twelve hours since he had fed his gastric gremlins, and they were getting decidedly restless.

An hour later they were each settled on one of the reclining seats, looking out over the waves. Catering for cousins on both sides of the Channel, the on-board café had offered English- and French-style breakfasts and a good selection of coffee.

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