Lizzie

"That's brilliant. I can come and pick it up when I deliver the painting of the pub to Geoff. Oh, good! Thank you so much!"

Dan grinned. "No trouble at all," he said.

Lizzie paid, and the small cupboard was duly removed from the shop window and taken to the back of the shop. "So I'll put a note on it saying professor Goulden will come and pick it up - I may not be in when you come to get it, okay?"

"Okay," Dan said, refraining from protesting this time. "That's wonderful. Thank you very much - have a nice Sunday!"

They left the shop together. "Would you care to have some coffee with me?" Lizzie asked.

Dan consulted his watch. "Yes, please," he said. "I have some time left - I promised to meet a colleague, you see. Shall we go to the Mauve Door? They have the best coffee in town."

They did have great coffee, Lizzie thought. It was very pleasant to sit there talking. But when they'd finished, Dan excused himself. He had to run. Afterwards he'd take a bus back into the village, and see to dinner, so Lizzie could take her time and walk at her own pace. "Have a great time," he said.

Lizzie waved as he walked down one of the narrow streets leading away from the square. He was a really nice bloke, he was. Then she put on her coat, picked up her small bag and went outside to explore the centre. The cathedral was beautiful, with some very impressive Norman pillars, a few beautiful stained glass windows and a polychrome effigy of a young woman that she found rather moving in its serenity.

She did a lot of drawing that afternoon, and she walked back very satisfied with her day, and very happy she'd got the opportunity to complete her plans. She'd found two more CDs in one of the charities, and decided that she could carry those along as there was only one more day to go. Mmm, it had been a great walk, and a really good time, meeting nice people along the way.

She came back at Dan's barn when the sun was almost gone behind the trees, but just in time to make a few sketches before she went round the back and entered through the kitchen door to be greeted by the smell of steamed vegetables and roast chicken.

"Hello," Dan said. "Had a good day?"

"Oh yes, brilliant! Thank you. It felt right in every way. Zeb would have loved the place!"

"Yes he would. He loved the colleges in Cambridge. My, what a long time ago that is. Want to wash first, or shall we have dinner?"

"I'll go and wash my face and hands, and then I'll be round for dinner!"

She wasn't a minute and she went downstairs, happy to sit down in Dan's kitchen at the big, oak kitchen table with the vase of flowers and the red and yellow place mats. It was a beautiful, well-proportioned room, spacious and comfortable. There was an old Aga in one corner that emitted a comfortable warmth; when the sun was down, autumn was beginning to show its real character. The walls were whitewashed and a little irregular but it somehow added to the kitchen's personality.

"This is a great room," she said. "Did you have to do a lot to have the place converted, or was it already mainly like this?"

"It was really a bit of a shambles when I bought it. It was quite cheap, much less than I had expected, so I had enough left to have it converted. I tried not to change the sturdy character of the house." He looked around and nodded. "I think I was very fortunate. I love this house, and it's so close to my work - you can even walk there, and it is reasonably close to the pub, and a lot of my friends live nearby."

He thought for a moment. "It is a good place to live, although it gets a bit silent sometimes. Especially in winter." He shrugged. "Alright. Dinner! Would you like some wine?"

They sat talking over dinner about the old days, reminiscing and laughing about all those faraway things, and enjoying the meal Dan had cooked. He said he used the oven a lot - the Aga was very functional and beautiful as well, he thought - and he apparently knew how to use it. Lizzie thought he was quite a good cook, definitely better than Zeb had been.

After dinner Dan cleared away the dinner and made some coffee. They had their coffee in the living room. Lizzie sat back, and realised how tired she was. One more day to go, and only a short one at that.

"My," she said, "I am tired. But it has been worth it - and I am so glad that you made it possible for me to complete the project!"

"My pleasure. I loved accompanying you this morning. It's been a long time since I last walked to town. Apparently you never see how beautiful your own surroundings are." He smiled at her. "Thank you for reminding me."

"I enjoyed our walk together," Lizzie said. Then she had to stifle a yawn. "I'm sorry. Seems I can't stop yawning. Can't imagine why." She yawned again and grinned at Dan. "I'm actually glad tomorrow is the final day. It was good to do, and I had a brilliant time. But you do feel you're not in your twenties any longer. Seven or eight more miles, and then home. I'd love to write down your address, and your phone number if I may."

"Of course. We'll have to arrange something for that music cupboard and I can drop you a birthday card, perhaps. When is your birthday?"

"It's August the fourth. Nice and warm. And yours?"

"Mine is January 31. Not that nice and warm - wet and chilly as a rule. And windy... Guess a Christmas card will come first. I'll find some paper."

He got up and got a notebook from a drawer. Then he sat down again and wrote down his address and his phone number.

"This is my landline," he said.

"Okay. Can I have your mobile number, too?"

"Er, yes..." He took his cell phone from his coat pocket, and had a look. "Here it is," he said, and copied it.

"I don't know it by heart," he said apologetically. "I seldom use it, let alone share it."

"Do you ever use WhatsApp?"

"No - I don't think it's on my phone. I do use my email a lot."

"Would you like it? We could talk once in a while. I promise to use it sparingly."

"Well, yes. Certainly. What should I do?"

"Shall I try and install it for you?"

Dan grinned and passed his phone to Lizzie, who quickly had the app installed.

"Okay. I will text you sometime or other, right?"

Dan nodded. "Good," he said. "Please let me have yours, too."

Lizzie put her address and phone number down and handed the paper to Dan.

"Right," she said. "I'd love to have some more of your company and of that lovely whisky - but I think I had better turn in, or tomorrow may prove a bit too heavy. It is really almost the end of the road."

Dan smiled at her and nodded. "Alright," he said. "At what time will you be down for breakfast?"

"Would seven be too early?"

"No. Fine! Alright then. Goodnight, and rest well!"

"Goodnight, Dan. You are a great host!"

Lizzie got up and left the room. She turned around in the door to flash Dan a smile; then she went upstairs. She quickly had a shower and brushed her teeth, and she drifted off to sleep thinking about the day. It had been truly lovely!

Downstairs Dan poured himself a dram and he slipped a CD into the player. He sat back to relax, listening to Mary Chapin Carpenter. Lizzie was a great girl, he thought. Good company, funny and just not a little attractive. He felt a little envious of Zeb, who must have had a wonderful time with her. She was really into him, still, and they must have been a really devoted couple, he thought. Nothing like those silly contacts he had had after Flo had died. Fortunately there were no students fawning over him any longer; but it must be nice to know the warmth of a real loving bond. He shook his head. When the CD ended he played Ernestine Allen's Lullaby of Broadway, and then he switched off the stereo, took the coffee cups and his glass to the kitchen and went upstairs.

X

When Lizzie came downstairs she found breakfast waiting for her on the kitchen table. Dan was outside but he entered through the French window and greeted her.

"Good morning," he said. "Had a good night?"

"Excellent. It's nice and quiet around here, and you've got a lovely spare bed. And you?"

"Yes. Must have been the walk. I was asleep before I knew. I made you some lunch, so you needn't spend any time on that. Coffee? Tea? Orange juice? I always have some tea first, and then some coffee to finish."

"Sounds like an idea! Yes please."

During breakfast Lizzie sat talking and looking at him. He had an attractive, intelligent face, and blue grey eyes. There were lines around his eyes and mouth, he had dark blonde hair and he was greying at the temples. He was slim and tall, though not as tall as Zeb, and she liked the sound of his voice. She felt happy she'd met him, and not just because he'd put her up; he was really a nice man to know. Moreover, he liked the right things. But then, he would, she thought. If he hadn't, Zeb would never have befriended him.

After breakfast she went outside and made a couple of drawings of Dan's house and its surroundings. One came off particularly nice, and she went back in and showed it to him.

"Oh wow! That's nice. You really are a true artist!"

Lizzie blushed. "I'm not sure," she said, "but thank you very much!"

Then she smiled at him and sighed. "I think we'd better clear the table so I can get started," she said.

"I will see to that. You go and get yourself sorted out."

He smiled at her, and she nodded and went upstairs. She came back down in five minutes, all packed and ready to go.

"So here I go," she said. "One more day to go, one more B&B... I will remember these two days! I am very happy to know you. Thank you very much for having me!"

She walked up to Dan and hugged him, and she stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. He smiled at her.

"Same here," he said. "I'm happy to know what happened to Zeb, and to know he had such a lovely wife. Take care, and may the sun shine on your path!"

She put on her rucksack, and they walked to the road.

"Five hundred yards to the left, and then there's a gap in the hedge. Quite a wide one, actually."

"Thank you! I'll call you when I will be around to pick up the cupboard!"

He waved as she got smaller and smaller. Damn, he thought. His house would feel very empty for some time. Lizzie was the kind of woman you seldom met, cheerful, witty, and a beautiful voice... When she disappeared around the bend, he went back into the house. He picked up the cassette he'd selected and went into the study to convert it into a couple of WAV files.

Lizzie set off at a brisk pace. She felt it was time to finish her trip and go home. For one thing, she didn't think it could get any better. She'd met a couple of very nice folks on the way, and she'd revelled in the beauty of the walk. Now, though, she felt it was high time to go home and arrange her life and her thoughts again. Back to the old grind. She smiled. Life didn't feel like that at all, definitely not. The only thing missing was Zeb, but at least there were memories - loads of them.

The path was dry and a little dusty. It hadn't rained for a good many weeks now and the farmers were getting restless. It was great weather for walking, but she felt that the maize getting yellow already must be an awful sight when your livelihood depended on it. The clothes she had worn on her way were all dirty, reddish with dust, and, she thought, they must be a bit sweaty. She kept them in plastic bags in her rucksack, and she knew that emptying those into the wash basket was an unpleasant olfactory sensation... She grinned at herself. Idiot! It was just horribly smelly, in plain English. She'd packed a few extra t shirts to stay on the safe side, but the weather had been too good to need them so she could go home by train without having to be worried people would smell her or look at her askance. It was a pleasant thought.

She started feeling her feet. She wondered briefly if it was because she knew it was the last leg of her walk, and she decided that yes, it probably was. She had covered a goodly distance during the twelve days she had spent walking, and she wasn't in her twenties any more. But boy, had it been worth it! She revolved the walk in her mind. The people she'd met had been almost invariably nice, and she had made a few worthwhile friends. It was a pity that Geoff's pub was so far from home; she'd felt very happy in there. They would have welcomed her as a regular voice, that much she knew for certain. Mmm, at least she would try and do some singing on the folk nights at home again. it had been a good idea to sing there; and she had suddenly remembered how nice it was to make music together - never mind the fact that it was all amateuristic and not always quite in tune. She and Zeb had never sung a false note. But then, neither had Dan that evening.

Jane Carlton was a dear. She'd highly enjoyed her night at the pub with her, and she would go and call her some time soon. It would be nice if she could do some work for her again. Oh well, Kevin did keep her going, artistically and financially. She had a small income from a scheme of Zeb's. It transpired after he had died that he had arranged for some insurance, just in case. And they had paid off the mortgage on the house. That, with the money she'd inherited from her parents, made her do okay, but the extra money from her work enabled her to go on holiday, and buy the odd CD or books.

When she came to a series of small waterfalls she stopped and had lunch. The pub she'd heard about had been closed down, it seemed, and so Dan had prepared some nice sandwiches, with two apples and a bottle of water. Just what a woman needed, she thought. He seemed to understand that sort of thing. She sat on a bump next to the path and contentedly ate her sandwiches. Life just smiled at her, and she smiled back a little drowsily, happy with the day's progress.

After lunch she consulted her map, and found she had already walked three quarters of the way. She would have ample time to go to the station and buy a ticket to go home the next morning. She put away her map, and set off again. The path was easy and well kept, and she walked on at a moderate pace. There were no sights she felt she ought to sketch, and she just kept on going for another hour until she reached the town.

She decided to have some coffee first, and then she sought out the station. She bought a ticket for the next morning's express train and she asked directions to the B&B that was on her list. It was on the same side of town, a little to the north, and she went there to find an elderly couple, Mr and Mrs Thompson, who obviously enjoyed running it. She was given a room that had the morning sun, they said, and a nice bathroom, and would she like a cooked breakfast? She'd love a cooked breakfast, she said. Then they asked her where she hailed from, and she told her a little about her walk over a cup of tea in the kitchen. It was good to sit there; she didn't have the energy to go and explore the whole town any more. When she felt rested, she asked them if there were any sights they could recommend, and if they happened to know a good place for a meal.

Mrs Thompson - Mabel, if you please! - was happy to tell her all about it, and when she had received thorough instructions Lizzie set off. The town was pleasant in an unostentatious way, and she had a good meal at the local Italian restaurant. They did serve a really good salad, which was a nice change, and she had some chianti with her food.

After dinner she went home fairly early. Mabel Thompson unlocked the door for her, and invited her into the living room for a talk and a drink. Lizzie gladly accepted; they were good company and she thought she might feel a little lonely in her bedroom in a strange house after the two excellent nights at Dan's.

They had a nice conversation together. Mabel told her a little about their lives; apparently they had run into each other some years after both their spouses had died. They had been in their early sixties, Mabel being almost three years older. The photographs of their spouses stood on the windowsill in the stairwell, and they looked at them every day. But having each other felt good, and running the B&B together, and talking to the guests, and waking up in the morning together was warm and pleasant.

They had got married alright; there had been some people who had shaken their heads when they put up the bans, but they had persisted, and they had been the happier for it. They still were happy together every day.

Lizzie smiled, and nodded. She told her host and hostess she had never let herself be told what to do either, and she could only heartily agree with Mabel. When she had met Zeb, all kinds of people had warned her - or him - of the dangers of their union: different backgrounds, and a man who was into music and therefore could only be certain to give her a hard time and what good did he think could come of marrying an artist? What indeed! They had never had hard times together, and life had been good. Very good!

While they were talking she'd produced her sketchbook.

"Can I make a few drawings of the two of you?" she asked.

When she'd been given the go-ahead, she made a few quick sketches to end with a more complete drawing.

"Can we have a look?"

"Of course. If you like this one you can have it."

The Thompsons looked at it together - they seemed to do almost everything together, Lizzie thought - and Mabel blushed.

"Do you mean that?" she said.

Lizzie nodded.

"Oh, that is nice! I'd love to have it. Don't you?"

Her husband nodded vehemently. "You can see in your drawing how important we are for each other. Wonderful. Oh, we can have it framed!"

Lizzie extracted the sheet from her sketchbook and handed it to Mabel.

Then she finished her drink. She went to bed at ten, feeling a good deal rested already. She fell asleep almost at once with a big smile on her face.

The next morning she had a slow breakfast, and then she took her leave of the Thompsons, who made her promise to drop by if ever she'd visit their town again. Mabel gave her a big hug.

"All the best, Lizzie," she said. "Hopefully you will run into someone nice, too!"

"Who knows... But it's home first! High time to sort out all my impressions and wash my clothes, and there is a new assignment waiting for me. Thank you very much for your hospitality!"

She put her luggage on her back and walked to the station. The train wasn't long in coming, and when she had settled in her chair she sat back, relaxed, and mulled over the two weeks in her mind. They had really been good - but she was happy to go home!

XI

When she came home Lizzie found the CD she'd mailed to herself and Jane Carlton's book on the kitchen table on top of the other mail. She leafed through it and smiled. It was as good as she remembered. The house was welcoming in the late afternoon light and the newly mown lawn lay smooth in the sun.

She was very happy to have completed the walk, and very happy to be back home again. It had been a genuine bit of good luck to chance upon Dan, she thought. Now she could put this part of her life behind her, and look back on a completed pilgrimage. And it was nice to know someone from Zeb's past. Zeb had often talked about him. Dan was a nice guy, as nice as he'd sounded in Zeb's stories.

She unpacked her luggage and loaded the washing machine. It was smelly indeed, and she would have to run a couple of washes. She decided to have one more evening of eating out - back to cooking again tomorrow. And she would have to find out if there really was a folk night that Saturday, too.

Joe waved at her from the back of the public bar when she entered the Oak. She waved back and walked to the bar. "Hello Dwight," she said. "Everything still alright?

"Everything brilliant," the publican said with a grin. "How have you been?"

"Fine," she said. "Completed the walk, met some nice people - feeling good and healthy. It was really what I hoped it would be, invigorating and pleasant."