Lizzie

It was the last song of the evening; Geoff took good care not to lose his license, and he always kept strict closing times. Lizzie didn't mind. It had been a nice evening, but she felt fairly tired after a truly busy day and she was looking forward to sitting in Dan's living room enjoying a drink and some conversation. There was too much noise in the pub to talk.

She smiled at Dan. "Shall we go?" she said.

Dan got up. "Do let's. Time for you to wind down."

They put on their coats, and Lizzie said goodbye to a few of the people around. Then she went to the bar and said thank you to Geoff.

"Thank you," he said. "I'll send you a picture when I've got it framed."

"Yes please, that would be nice. See you again sometime!"

Then she went outside to the car park. Dan was waiting for her near the door, and he opened the car door for her. "Here we go," he said.

XV

Lizzie sat back in the car, looking at the road in front of them, thinking how nice it was to leave together, and to be able to talk about the evening when home. She'd always done so when Zeb was still alive, and although she had formed a perfect routine since his death, she highly missed it in her heart of hearts. She remembered the two couples she'd met on her walk, the two elderly couples who had been so involved with each other - engrossed in each other, maybe. She'd felt very happy for them, and, perhaps, just a wee bit envious?

Her father had become a widower when he was fifty-six, and he had always stayed alone after that. He used to say that he was happy and content that way, but she had never believed him, and when he was getting really old he eventually spoke about the long periods of loneliness he lived through, about the cold of winter and the long dark nights when he sat thinking about his wife and the dreams they had not been able to live together, and she had felt so sorry for him. The Thompsons had made the right decision - but then, they had been lucky enough to get the chance.

She looked at Dan's face in the light of the dashboard. He was a bit reserved, perhaps - but then, so was she. And she expected he would be quite sensitive to people's feelings; she couldn't see him intruding into someone's comfort zone. He really did seem to like the bachelor's life he was living unreservedly. Still, she hoped he would come and visit her some time. She expected he would. She looked at the road again.

Suddenly Dan braked hard.

"Look!" he said.

A few yards ahead a big badger trotted into the road. Its eyes shone in the lights of the car for a moment, and then it hurried across the tarmac and disappeared into the undergrowth.

"There are a few of them around," he said as he drove off again. "You don't often get to see them, though, apart from the odd ones along the road that got hit by a car."

"They are wonderful, aren't they? I love seeing them."

Dan grinned. "Zeb did," he said. "you seem to be very much like him."

"I suppose it is what happens to you when you live together for a long time. Unless you spend all your time quarrelling... My next-door neighbours are always at it. Or rather, she is. He always has to defend himself. What a life."

"No soul mates..."

"Quite the opposite. Silly, really. They must have been fond of each other once."

"Better off alone in such a case... Mmm. Life is hard sometimes. Okay, home!"

He pulled up near the front door and they went inside. Lizzie really enjoyed the looks of the old building with its modern atmosphere. It felt very right, and well-planned. Dan must have had very good builders in to get a result like that; it had been lovingly done. It had all mod cons. She compared the barn with her own house. Hers was a lot smaller, for one thing, and rather idiosyncratic... The various flights of stairs were a nuisance sometimes. On the other hand, it fitted her like a comfortable old jersey, and she thought that the barn was rather big for one person. It would certainly be too big for her.

She shook her head and smiled at herself. Silly! As if she would ever live there. And the place seemed to suit Dan to a t. They hung up their coats and Dan led the way to the living-room. He got two glasses and the bottle of whisky and poured two large drinks.

"Okay," he said. "To friendship and music!"

Lizzie raised her glass and gave him a smile. He looked back smiling, and she reflected he really had very nice eyes. "To friendship and music," she repeated. "In that order - though they are close."

"They are. Music is a lifeline if ever there was one. But friendship is precious." He looked at her and sighted contentedly. "I'm really happy I chanced upon you then. It gave me a friend and a way back into my past. Geoff was bowled over by your painting."

"I'm happy he was - and very glad it's done. I was rather nervous about it."

"Okay. I don't expect he noticed - I certainly didn't."

"Then he probably hasn't. What have you been listening to lately?"

"Beth Nielsen Chapman, and Gretchen Peters, and also the String Band - thinking about Zeb, you know."

Lizzie nodded. "I do. I played them a lot. I have played that CD you sent me almost every day."

"I'm afraid it's rather low-fi."

"Oh, never mind. I didn't really notice, I'm afraid. Too busy listening to what is played."

She looked into her glass and swirled the yellow liquid slowly around. "I told you I had Jane Carlton over for a night. She is the writer of the book I illustrated before the walking tour. Oh well, you know. I had seen her at the office, and I met her somewhere on my walk in a pub, and we get on really well. I played the CD for her."

"Good. I wish I could have helped you to more. But we just recorded it for a joke, you know."

"Fortunately you took the music seriously."

"Of course." Dan looked shocked at the idea, and Lizzie chuckled at him.

"Zeb was a real musician. It was one of the things I really admired in him." She nodded to herself. "I really did."

They were silent for a bit, enjoying their drink and each other's company.

"It's nice to have a voice to talk to, besides your own, sometimes," Dan said.

"Yes. I do miss that - we used to walk home hand in hand, Zeb carrying his mandolin under his arm... Now I see other people do so, while I go home alone. I envy them sometimes."

"There's no one around the place to replace him?"

Lizzie giggled. "They're all either married or in their dotage... And there's no one in my village who could possibly replace Zeb. Moreover, I think they frown a little on my job."

"Really? Don't they like what you do?"

"They don't talk about it at all. Maybe I'm wrong. Joe and Ellen like what I do; they come to visit sometimes. And some people with children sometimes talk to me about it. But they are all much younger."

"I really have to go and visit you some time soon to have a look."

"Yes please. I would really appreciate that! I don't have as nice a spare room as yours, though."

Dan made a face at her. "No problem," he said. "A pallet on the floor will do. What is your house like?"

Lizzie told him. He asked her a couple of questions, and she explained how she had turned it into the place Zeb and she had wanted. "It is a nice house, even though it is not really practical," she concluded.

Dan nodded. "And filled with footsteps and sounds," he said.

"Yes." She smiled and ran her hands over her face. "I'm sorry, but I do have to go and lie down now - I do enjoy talking but it was a long day."

"I know. Okay, off you go."

"Same room?"

"Yes. Okay?"

"More than. Can I take something to the kitchen?"

"I'll manage. You go and have a good long sleep! Sweet dreams!"

"Okay. Thank you. Night night!"

She went into the hall and picked up her bag. She had a quick wash and then she turned in. It felt good to stretch her legs and pull the duvet up over her shoulders. She thought a little about the day's events, the obvious enthusiasm her picture was received with by Geoff, and the applause when she'd sung her harmony line with Dan, and especially the time she'd spent looking at the photographs and talking with Dan. She sighed. It was a pity he lived so far away. Then she yawned and closed her eyes. She fell asleep almost simultaneously.

Dan put Lizzie's glass on the sink and he had himself another drink. He plugged his earphones into the amplifier and played a few tracks of the CD he had been listening to the night before, while he enjoyed his drink. Then he shut up shop, put the glasses into the dishwasher and went to bed. It had been a wonderful day. He would certainly go and visit her some time or other soon. For a moment he wished she were in his arms... She was lovely. She really was.

XVI

Saturday morning was soaked with rain. When Lizzie woke up she heard it whip the windows and beat a tattoo on the window ledge. The light in the room, that had been so bright last time, was greyish now. It didn't really matter, though; it was still a nice, well-laid out place that was good to look at. And good to be in, for all that.

It wouldn't have been nice to have such weather while walking. But, she thought, when she'd walked that first time, with Zeb, they had had a similar day, and they hadn't minded for a moment. They'd done a lot of singing, giggling and holding hands. She smiled happily at the memory.

She stretched herself, enjoying a cool spot for her feet for a while, before she swung her legs across the edge of the bed and got up. She walked to the corridor and tried the bathroom door. It was unoccupied and so she went in for a quick shower. She slowly dried herself with the towel Dan had put out for her. Then she slipped back into her nightgown and went to her room.

Time to get dressed. She decided to wear the same trousers, but she changed the rest. There was a small mirror on the wall and she looked at herself with interest. Her hair was even wilder than usual, but apart from that she looked alright. She wondered what Dan thought of the way she looked. She took her comb and saw to her hair, which made only a marginal difference. It curled too much to want to get tidy, and stretching it made her look like somebody else. Oh well, she had at least made an effort. Zeb had loved it, and that was what mattered.

She packed her clothes and her sponge bag and took her bag downstairs. She heard Dan in the kitchen. He was listening to the weather forecast on the radio while frying some bacon and eggs. When she entered the kitchen it had just finished and he turned it off.

"Good morning! It seems there's a lot of bad weather in the offing - there'll be a storm tonight. I'm afraid you'd better leave early; it will be dangerous on the roads, and they say it will last until Sunday night at the least, on and off."

"Okay. What a pity. Mmm, can't be helped, though."

"I'm afraid not, no. No sense in risking your life. But there's time enough for breakfast, and you will be safely home before the wind starts."

"Alright! Oh, it smells good!"

"Thank you. It's ready, I think. Do sit down!"

Lizzie sat down at one of the placemats Dan had put on the table. He'd put a glass of freshly pressed orange juice on each, and a plate and a teacup. He walked up to the table with the frying pan and put it on a mat in the middle.

"Do help yourself," he said, picking up the teapot. "Shall I be mother?"

Lizzie nodded. "Yes please," she said. She took some egg and a few rashers of bacon.

"Lovely," she said. "I love a good cooked breakfast."

"Zeb did, too. So do I, by the way. Oh my, look at that rain!"

The water washed down the kitchen windows, blurring the view of the outbuilding, a smaller, only slightly newer structure at the back of the garden that had been given the same treatment as the barn itself. Lizzie thought it might make a great studio; she didn't know what Dan used it for.

"What do you do with the outhouse?"

"Nothing much, actually. I had thought of furnishing it and offering it to my father to come and live here, but he was very adamant he didn't want to leave his beloved Scotland. So at the moment I keep a few odds and ends there. Nothing important, though." He grinned. "One of my lady friends suggested I turn it into a B&B. It sounds like an awful idea to me. I enjoy cooking for visitors or friends, but not on a daily basis. And I would highly dislike having all sorts of strangers about the place - rather like you wouldn't want to stage an open day. Obviously she has no idea what I'm like."

Lizzie smiled. The idea of Dan running a B&B was ludicrous. "No," she said. "I couldn't envisage you doing it." She was silent for a moment. Then she said, "Erm, could I have a copy of two of your poems? I'd like to paint them."

To her surprise Dan blushed. "Really? That would be wonderful. I'll type them first, so I can send them by email. Okay?"

"Yes please! I'd like to have the ones I put on top yesterday."

"Just a moment."

Dan disappeared and returned with the poems. He showed her the two top ones and said, "These?"

"Yes. I think they're beautiful! So your father is still alive?"

"He is. He's very old. He is still quite bright, but he is getting very frail and tired. I go there every now and then to make sure things are alright. I'll certainly go there for Christmas; he loves to see me then. I don't mind, really - but sometimes I wish I could just stay at home and celebrate Christmas my way."

Lizzie nodded. "Yes. Still, it must be nice to have him around. My parents have been dead for I don't know how long."

"It is. He is ninety-two... I wonder how much longer he'll enjoy life. He often complains things hurt."

"Are you an only child?"

"I'm afraid so - my brother died very young. I am taking care of his finances... He is not strong enough to go out any more. I hope he won't be in for a long period of decline."

Lizzie shook her head. "That would be horrible," she said. "Zeb's mother was ailing for about a year before she died. My father just dropped dead at seventy-five. Literally. He was on his way back to bed from the bathroom and he just collapsed."

"Mmm. It must have been a shock - but it seems a good way to go. No troubles or indignities!"

"No. We were quite happy for him, actually - he dreaded the possibility of losing his independence. When will you be going again?

"In November I suppose - in a couple of weeks. I usually try to see him every six weeks or so, and that way I can go again at Christmas. Maybe I can see you on my way back."

Lizzie nodded. "Yes please! You are very welcome. I'm a real stay-at-home girl, so I think you'll find me in."

Then she addressed herself to her breakfast. Dan looked at her, and they smiled at each other. Lizzie loved looking at his face.

Outside the rain seemed to be growing steadily worse. The windows were washed with water and the garden was practically invisible.

"Isn't it awful? But I do have to be home on Monday. I think I'd better make a start soon, before my windscreen wipers can't manage any more. And oh dear, how do I get that little cupboard into the car? I don't want to ruin it."

"I'll wrap it in plastic for you. I've kept a big plastic bag one of the mattresses came in - I'm sure it must be big enough. I'll put it in the car for you; it isn't too heavy, and I would think you will be alright getting it out and carrying it into your house."

"That would be nice! This is impossible weather."

She finished her breakfast more quickly than she'd wanted to, but the prospect of driving home seemed rather daunting, and the sooner she left the better. Dan nodded. He quite agreed. When Lizzie put down her cutlery, he told her he would see to the cupboard. "You go and get organized. Is the car open?"

"It isn't." She took the keys from her bag and handed them to him. "I'll go for a wee, and then I'm off."

"Good!" He went to the hall and got the plastic from the meter cupboard. Armed with tape and a pair of scissors he carefully wrapped up the piece of furniture. Then he put on a raincoat and opened Lizzie's car from indoors with the remote. He picked up the cupboard and ran for it. Pressing the parcel into his hip he opened the rear door and shoved it in. Then he closed the door and ran back.

Lizzie came downstairs from the bathroom. She saw Dan in the hall. His hair was all wet, but apart from that he was ok. He handed her her car keys.

"I had a look, and they expect the rain to get less during the next few hours, and then it will pick up again by the end of the afternoon. But I will be home by then."

"Are you certain you have to go now, in this weather?"

"Yes. Really - I promised. I hate breaking promises."

"Okay then. But please give me a call when you're home!"

"I will. I loved seeing you again. I wish we could have had the morning too."

She took Dan's hand, and kissed him on the cheek.

"You are a great host and a wonderful friend!"

"Thank you for coming and befriending me. I loved every moment of your stay."

He kissed her cheek too, and walked with her to the door.

"Do stay indoors, please. I will make a run for it."

"Okay! Take care! I'll be waiting for your call."

"Thank you! Bye!"

She pulled her coat up over her head and ran, and disappeared into the car. Dan stood on the threshold looking out into the pouring rain, at her disappearing form. He waved, but he wasn't sure she could see it. He remained standing there until the car had left the drive and rounded the corner, leaving the world empty. Then he closed the door and went into the kitchen.

He made a pot of coffee and took it into the living room. He felt rather apprehensive, knowing Lizzie was driving through that horrible rainstorm. To drive the thought from his mind he sat down to type the two poems first. He sent them to Lizzie's email address, and made prints for himself.

Then he went through his music and selected an old LP by Titus Groan that he used to play with Zeb, back in the days. He wondered what it was that set Lizzie apart from his other friends. She seemed to touch his feelings in a way the others never did. The house felt lonely and she seemed to do something to his equilibrium that was nice as long as she was there. It was upsetting, too. He briefly wondered if he hadn't better leave her be, but discarded the idea as soon as it was formed. He was really looking forward to going to Scotland and visiting his father - he would have a reason to call on her again then. He wished he could put into words what it was that was so special about her. Wouldn't it be great if she lived nearer? He shook his head. Wishful thinking!

He closed his eyes for a moment and saw her face in his mind's eye - her lovely smile and the head of hair that no spray can could ever tame... Suddenly he sat up. He wasn't falling in love her with her? But no, he was certain he just liked her for what she was, Zeb's widow and a nice girl.

Lizzie slowly drove down the narrow country road that twisted and turned something awful, she thought. But she remembered it wasn't too long before she would hit the motorway. That was fairly straight at least. She had the windscreen wipers on full, but it was only just enough. Fortunately she had new tyres and a good engine. It was a reliable car. Still, she'd decided not to play any music, as it might distract her from driving and she needed her wits about her.

It was a truly hard drive, and it seemed twice as long as on the way there. When she left, they hadn't yet forecast any muck like that. She grinned to herself. She'd probably have gone anyway. Dan was nice and she like the entire setup, with the pub and the folk night - it was quite like the ones in her own village, maybe even nicer. She briefly wondered why, but she didn't find an answer.

Fortunately the motorway was almost devoid of traffic. She rather disliked lorries sending up clouds of spray, and idiots racing past as if there were nothing the matter. Oh well, this was better. She kept on peering into the rain, staring at the rear lights of cars in front of her. There were no speed devils now, so she could just drive at a reasonable speed, gripping the wheel, very much on the qui vive.