Lizzie

She had finished her drink during the song, and Dan fetched her another drink when the ballad had ended. He returned with the drink and a sheet of paper from Geoff.

She thanked him for the drink and read the message. Geoff told her he liked her sketches, and he asked her if she would be willing to make a watercolour of the pub on commission. If she didn't it would be alright, but he would be very happy if she would.

"Oh dear," she said as she handed the note to Dan. "Now what does one do? I suppose I do at least have to go and talk to him."

She had her drink first, to give the situation some thought. Then she got up and walked to the bar. Geoff motioned for her to sit on one of the stools.

"I hope you won't find me rude or presumptuous, but I saw your sketches, and Dan told me who you are, and I know your work - well, some of it, of course. Erm, I love this place as Dan may have told you. I've got a series of paintings and a few engravings, but they are too awful to put on your wall. So er, I thought I might perhaps ask you to do a watercolour for me of the pub that I can put up."

"I see. I er, you know, I never worked on commission other than for book illustrations and I think it's a bit scary. I don't know if you will like the results and I'm not at all certain if I will like doing it." She thought for a moment. "Would you mind if it came out in oils instead, for example? If I am to do it, I want to have a free hand. And I will have to ask around what I could possibly ask for it; I just have no idea."

"That's okay - fair enough. I definitely wouldn't mind oils but I thought you usually do watercolours and gouaches?"

Lizzie nodded slowly. "I do, illustration wise. But this feels different - the subject is different, you see." She tried to envisage herself doing the painting. "What size are you thinking of? And I saw it on a very sunny day, so it will be a sunny picture if it comes to anything."

Geoff raised his eyebrows. "Look," he said. "If I just give you my card, you can think about it, and we could talk about it some other time perhaps?"

"Okay. That is a good idea. I promise to call you - even if only to say no, if I cannot do it, right?"

"Good! Thank you very much! Would you like another cider?"

"No thank you. I'd like some sparkling water though."

"Right you are." Geoff got a bottle from the fridge under the bar and poured it for her. Then he said, "I hope you don't mind?"

She shook her head. "It's just rather new, you see."

Then she went back to Dan and briefly told him.

"Okay," he said. "More music!"

There were a few really good players and one or two rather indifferent ones, but Lizzie enjoyed the evening very much, and it was eleven o'clock before she knew.

They left at once, to be ahead of the crowd, and as they walked to Dan's car together, she said, "I always love this kind of do. We sometimes have folk nights at home, too, but this is the first time I've sung again since Zeb died. It was a good idea!"

"You should do so more often! You've got a lovely voice. I was asked if you would sing again by quite a few people."

Lizzie gave him a broad smile. "That is very nice of them," she said. "I think I will. I'll write down the Prickly Bush lyrics tonight so you can check them for me."

"I'll jot them down for you. You know, if you can stand another evening of my company, you could stay another night and visit the cathedral."

He unlocked the car and opened the door for her. Then he got in himself.

"I would enjoy accompanying you on the way there - I'd have to go home early though, but you can take your time."

"You sure?"

"Yes," he said. "Quite sure."

"Oh, I would love that. Oh yes, walking together is nice. Walking some of the way with Roderick was a nice change, too."

"Good. So we will walk a while tomorrow."

He started the engine and left the car park. "It's some twenty minutes or a little less," he said. Then he fell silent, looking into the dark and taking care of the driving down a couple of rather narrow hollow roads.

VIII

Dan lived in a big converted barn - it had been a tithe barn, actually - which he had bought cheap when there wasn't too much demand for that kind of place yet. He had had it converted entirely to modern standards of living, but the barn still looked like the building it was, sturdy, rugged and very beautiful. It was made of weathered brick in various shades of deep red, from the same clay as the pub, and it had been built around the same time, too, with a tile roof, and it had some small windows on the side you could see from the road. He had converted the barn doors into windows and the principal room did get a lot of light that way. There were some big windows in the roof at the back.

It was very much his den, tidy and comfortable and full of books, records and CDs. He had even kept the audio cassettes he had used for a long, long time, although he had found himself contemplating to throw them for some time now. Fortunately he hadn't done so; there was one cassette with recordings of songs he'd played with Zeb, and chances were Lizzie would like to hear them.

There was no traffic on the roads, and so Dan managed the drive in a little over fifteen minutes. When they left the road, Lizzie saw a big building but it was too dark for her to realize what it was.

Dan stopped on the drive and Lizzie got out. She went to the back of the car to collect her rucksack and Dan got his guitar from the back seat. They walked to the front door together and Dan unlocked it.

"Welcome," he said with a smile.

"Thank you. So this is where you live." She looked around and noticed the heavy oak beams in the rather high ceiling and the thickness of the wall, and she said, "It's quite old, isn't it?"

Dan nodded. "It is," he said. "You'd better have a look in the morning. I'll have a dram before turning in. Would you care to join me, or would you rather go to bed at once?"

"I'll join you for a moment, please, just to wind down."

"Good. I'll show you to your room so you can leave your luggage there."

He went up the stairs in front of her, and showed her into a nice and roomy whitewashed bedroom with a big window with vertically striped red and green curtains.

"Hope this will do?" Dan said.

"It looks great! I'm certain it will be fine."

"Right then, let's go downstairs for a nightcap."

He took her into the living room and poured the drinks. Lizzie looked around. The room was large and uncluttered, with a big bookcase on one wall, and a collection of music on another. There was a lot of vinyl, and quite a big collection of CDs. One shelf in the record collection housed a record player, and on top of the bookcase there sat a few apparently medieval carvings. The other walls were empty but for some paintings, one of which was a portrait of a woman in a green dress. It looked eighteenth century, she thought. She loved the idea of having only a few ornaments when they were as beautiful as these.

The furniture was simple; a few comfortable chairs and some strong reading lights, two low tables with coasters and, on Dan's, a few books. There was an album sleeve standing against the side of his chair. Lizzie recognized it immediately; she had a copy of it, too.

"My," she said. "You do have a lot of music!"

"Yes," he said. "I wouldn't know how to live without it! I play some every day, actively or passively. It always cheers me up."

"I know. I do so, too. I haven't got a collection like yours, though. But I never listen to music while I'm painting. Too distracting, really. What do you do for a living? I think Zeb told me you read English at Cambridge."

"Yes I did. I teach English lit and some linguistics at university myself now, mainly Middle-English and modern poetry. It's nice to teach what you love!"

Lizzie smiled. "It's nice to do your thing and make a living out of it."

Dan nodded and handed her a glass. "Here's to the last part of your walk," he said.

Lizzie raised hers. "And to your hospitality," she said. "Thank you very much!"

"You're very welcome. And knowing you are Zeb's widow... He was a great bloke."

"He was." She smiled a little wistfully. "He used to call me his little girl. He was a lot taller."

Dan nodded. Zeb had been a behemoth of a man. "He was a gentle giant, I think. You must have made a striking pair!"

Lizzie sat down in a leather chair and stretched her legs. She sighed contentedly and took a sip. "Mm, I really needed that. This is a very comfortable chair."

"Okay. So do you have the same taste in music as Zeb used to have?"

"I think so. I have all his records still, and I play them a lot. Fairport, Richard Thompson, the Incredibles... And all the rest, really. He always seemed to like folk best."

"Liquid Acrobat and Changing Horses?"

"That's where he got my nickname - little girl. Yes, he used to played those a lot. I bought Liquid Acrobat on CD; the album is completely worn." She smiled. "It seems a long time ago, but they were wonderful years indeed."

"Taking the road less travelled by was a good idea, apparently!"

"It was. If I could do it all over again... I really consider myself lucky, having met and loved him. And I wouldn't have missed even the agony of his final moments - my agony, not his. He never realised." She took another sip of her whisky. "This is lovely stuff. What is it?"

Dan showed her the bottle. "Much too expensive, but wonderful. I was given it at a guest lecture in Glasgow." He grinned. "Can't think how on earth they could know I'd like it. I have some when I have visitors... Oh well, I think we'd better drink up, and turn in. Breakfast at eight so we can leave at nine? It's about two hours and a half to town on foot. You will be alright? Towels are on a rack in the bathroom."

"I will, thank you. Great!"

"Alright then, you can go first. Sweet dreams!"

"Sleep sweet!"

Lizzie smiled at Dan and left the room. She slowly walked up the stairs - she did feel her legs now - and had a quick shower. "Done!" she shouted. Then she went into her room, put on her night dress and stretched her legs in the comfort of the big bed. What a day it had been. She decided she would try and paint the pub - it would mean she could return again to deliver the painting. It had been a brilliant day. She sighed deeply for sheer joy and fell asleep.

Dan had gone through a box of cassettes while Lizzie was having her shower. He had found what he was looking for, and put the cassette on the record player to be seen to the next day. Alright! Bedtime for now.

He climbed the stairs and went into the shower. Lizzie had cleaned up after herself, and the place looked pristine. She was nice, very nice, he thought. No difficulty seeing what Zeb could have seen in her! He had a quick shower, thinking about Zeb, and the long years that he had not known about him. So he had bled to death. Mm, fortunately he hadn't realised. It was really strange, meeting with his widow in this way, and even singing with her. She had a beautiful voice. She had a very sweet smile, come to that.

He dried himself, dried the taps and shower head to prevent the chalk in the water from settling on the shining surfaces and put on his pyjamas. Then he crossed the landing to his bedroom and set the alarm for six thirty. He was fast asleep within seconds.

IX

He had a strange dream that morning, involving Zeb and Zeb's wife who didn't look like Lizzie at all, taking him through a bewildering collection of bars and doors, in a whirl of dark outsides and candlelit interiors, singing and losing touch... He was happy to be woken up by his alarm. His dreams usually were confusing to say the least. A friend of his had tried to make sense of them, but she hadn't succeeded as far as he was concerned.

He performed his ablutions and went into the kitchen to lay the table and prepare breakfast. He made himself a quick cup of tea and had some orange juice, and then he went into his study to put the contents of his briefcase into a small rucksack, so he would have his hands free during that morning's walk.

At seven thirty he went upstairs and knocked on her door to announce the time. Lizzie was half awake and she greeted him through the door.

"I'll have a quick wash - won't be long!" she said.

Dan went back to the kitchen to read the morning paper and it wasn't long before he heard Lizzie come down the stairs.

"Good morning. You have a nice spare room! I slept like a baby. It's another beautiful day, isn't it?"

"Good morning. It is! What would you like for breakfast?"

Lizzie explained, and they sat down to their breakfast together. Lizzie looked around appreciatively. Dan had a very nice place, she thought.

"You do have a nice house," she said. "Spacious and comfortable."

"It took some time to get it to my liking. It was somewhat shabby when I bought it - it was quite cheap but I had to restore it, and I had to make sure I didn't change its looks too much. So the roadside aspect is still more or less original."

"I must have a good look after breakfast. So it's a monument?"

"Er, yes. I love it, really."

"Okay. Gosh. Mmm, I do have an appetite. Walking makes me hungry!"

Dan grinned at her. "Good," he said. "Some more tea?"

They spent about fifteen minutes to finish their meal, and then they cleared the breakfast table together. Dan had a modern kitchen that was fitted with a good dishwasher so they didn't have to bother with the washing up.

"Alright," he said. "Let's prepare for our walk, then."

Lizzie went upstairs to brush her teeth and pack a small bag to carry on the way. Dan had assured her there were enough places to have lunch in town - the Mauve Door was one of his favourites - so she didn't have to bring any sandwiches.

They met downstairs in the hall, and went out into the sunshine. They walked up to the garden hedge and Lizzie turned around to look at the house.

"Oh my," she said. "I do have to draw this, too! My, but it is truly beautiful. I love the colour of the brick. I'll have to get up early tomorrow!"

Dan grinned. "It's the same brick as in the pub - as you probably noticed," he said. "And about as old as well."

"It's an old barn, right?"

"It is. There is a stretch of wall at the back of local stone, that is supposed to be even older. I love the place - it is always beautiful, rain or shine."

Lizzie smiled. "Lovely," she said. "Okay, let's go!"

It proved to be an easy walk to town, with nice but unexceptional views, so they had a lot of time to talk together. Lizzie loved Dan's stories about his Cambridge days, and in return she filled him in on Zeb's life with her.

"You must have had a strapping time together," Dan said. "Really and truly the love of your life!"

"He was. He is, really. Zeb... You know - oh well, you knew him too. He never said or did an unkind thing for as long as I can remember, and we were really attuned to each other."

"Soul mates, alright? Mmm, yes." He sighed. "Must be a very satisfying thought. Flo, the love of my life, studied archaeology. But we didn't enjoy each other's company long... She died within a few months while she was out in Peru to do some digs. Seems she had contracted some tropical disease or other. They never knew exactly what it was."

"You never had any girlfriends after that?"

"Once or twice, yes. But it never amounted to anything much. I once thought it would, until Judy came to visit and I learnt she didn't like the things I find important too much." He grinned. "She sat staring at the bookcase as if it would bite her. Did I mean to say that I really read all that? Well, yes, I did. Apparently it just put her off."

He considered things for a moment and shook his head. Then he added, "I try not to miss it too much. Life is quite rewarding, and I have some very good friends. Sometimes one feels a little lonely though. But I love music and reading, and I suppose l am better off with those than I would have been with her - she would have wanted to sit and watch TV most of the time. After that, all women I found attractive were happily married, or not interested. Fair enough, I think."

"It sounds like plain bad luck to me," Lizzie said. "Oh, look! There's the cathedral!"

The twin steeples appeared over the trees, and when they rounded a bend in the footpath, they saw the town lying in the distance.

"Oh dear - I do have to make some sketches. Do you mind?"

Dan didn't. He sat down on a stile and looked at Lizzie work. He rather enjoyed doing so; she looked happy when she worked. Very attractive, he thought. Somehow she was a bit inclined to belittle her skills, but he thought her sketches were simply marvellous. He definitely would check out her books in town! Zeb had been lucky to find a wife like her. They must have made an excellent pair, from what he knew of Zeb. He sighed and looked at his hands. He couldn't draw. He could write a bit, provided it didn't depend on his handwriting too much. They were alright for making music. Oh well...

Lizzie worked hard. The view was great and she highly appreciated it that Dan didn't come and stand looking over her shoulder, commenting and being a nuisance. She looked at him for a moment. He sat looking away but then he turned his head for a moment and flashed her a smile. She smiled back and turned over a new page in her sketchbook.

She made one more quick drawing. "That's it," she said. "Let's walk on!"

Dan got up and stretched himself. "Isn't it a beautiful autumn?" he said.

They walked on for fifteen minutes until they reached the edge of town. Dan led her to some steps that descended into a car park. It had one entrance for the cars, and a couple of exits for people on foot, indicated by large signs saying, 'Have you paid and displayed?' From there he showed her to the town square.

It was quite an attractive square, Lizzie thought, even though it had a few rather ugly modern shop fronts breaking the mainly Georgian façades. The cathedral wasn't on the square, but it was only a few streets away, and she decided she would go there later. Dan showed her the Mauve Door, and when she asked him if there were any good charities, he walked with her into a side street to show her where he usually went.

They had a nice shop window, and Lizzie looked at the display with interest.

Suddenly she said, "Oh dear, look at that!"

She pointed at a small, squat, cube-shaped walnut cupboard of no more than two feet by two feet, and added, "My parents used to have one like that. They upset a bottle of bleach over it, unfortunately. Isn't it wonderful?"

"It's certainly nice. What did they use it for? Prints?"

"No, it held their sheet music. I'd love it to hold prints, though - I have a small collection of old ones. I'll go and ask if it's affordable!"

They went inside. The old gentleman who was on duty that day greeted Dan enthusiastically.

"Good morning, professor! Good morning, madam."

"I'm no professor - just a lecturer, you know."

"All the same to me. So what can I do for you?"

Lizzie explained and he went into the shop window. He came back to announce that it was twenty-five pounds.

"Oh, that's alright! Could you perhaps send it to me? I'm on a walking tour, and I can't carry it with me, and finding the right box to put it in is too much hassle now."

"We don't usually do that, love - and I wonder if it would survive if you tried."

Lizzie shook her head. "Perhaps not. What a pity, I would love to have it."

"If you don't mind waiting a little for it, I could help out, perhaps," Dan said. "Room enough at the barn. Could you keep it at the back until Monday?"

"That's alright. Of course. But er, we are closed on Monday, so will Tuesday be an option?"

"By all means. Lizzie, you'd have to come by car and pick it up or wait until I come your way - I go to my father in Scotland every now and then."