Home

We drove through the night. Dawn was just breaking as we tooled up the long oak lined drive to the house. We stopped on the gravel forecourt as the front door opened. There stood Mrs M, wrapped tightly in her home made dressing gown, a torch in one hand and a shovel in the other.

SH and I both stopped in our tracks. SH took my hand and stood in front of me. I pushed him aside and walked into the light from the torch. Mrs M dropped the shovel and moved briskly towards me, concern adding extra lines to her already worn face.

"What is it? Are you ok? Is it your father?" I shook my head mutely.

SH stepped forward, he had known Mrs M from when we had first met and she had adored his scampy charm. Our families had become friends as we had - though I assume with less teenage fumblings - so had remain in touch long after SH and I had broken up.

"She's fine. She just wanted to come home for a break. Can I stay too M?" SH had been the only person to get away with not using her honorific Mrs.

"Of course you can. You both must be exhausted. Thank goodness the car woke James down at the lodge. He told me someone was coming. I was convinced it was burglars or worse though what I could have done to them with this shovel I do not know. Pick it up for me will you dear? Have you got luggage? Leave it there and I'll come and get it after I've seen about putting our young lady to bed and showing you to the spare room.

"I know the way M. I'll take the bags, you just worry about her." Mrs M nodded, already distracted by my silence. Normally she would never just leave a guest to find their own way and certainly rather resign than have them carry there own bags.

Mrs M clucked and fussed all the way to my room. She made sure I had some old pajamas and didn't leave me be until I was tucked up in bed.

I slept the day away. It's a mechanism I have for dealing with fear or stress. I've sailed in storms that would have Blackbeard sobbing for his mother but whilst everyone else panicked and prayed on deck I went quietly to my cabin and slept through it all.

When I woke it was just past dawn again. I had slept for more than 24 hours. I stretched and sat up, ignoring the buzzing in my head. I turned my phone on and called Alpha to let him know I was down at my mothers and SH had driven me. He's not jealous thank god, just teasing me gently not to string him along. I gave him the home number and said my phone wasn't really working down here so not to expect to get through to me on my mobile. Then I turned the phone off as half a dozen text and voice-mail messages came through from the Captain.

I put on socks and slippers, old English houses have cold floors, and went down to the kitchen. Mrs M was already up and about getting breakfast together. My mother rises early and likes a full breakfast to greet her.

Mrs M looked up at me as I came in.

"Tea? I'll get you some breakfast if you can wait half a tick." I thanked her and moved to the sofa that has always sat in the kitchen. Half dog bed, half most comfortable place in the world, I had spent most of my childhood sitting on that sofa in the kitchen with Mrs M pottering about making something delicious whilst my parents entertained guests, argued with each other and slowly destroyed their marriage above stairs.

Two old dogs greeted me from the sofa. They thumped their tails against the cushions and rearranged themselves over and around me as I sat down. I stroked their heads, noticing more white than ever before in their coats. Hatty and Pidge, both incurably gun shy and therefor unable to work on the estate, had become house dogs when the groundsman realized they would be no good in the kennels. Both dogs were thrilled to see me, nosing about my pockets to see if I had any treats for them. I fussed them and pulled there ears, suddenly sad that I lived away from England and my dear dogs.

Mrs M placed the best cup of tea I know of in front of me and a plate full of scotch pancakes and golden syrup. I hadn't eaten these since I was a tot so I lunged at the plate and devoured them. Mrs M looked on approvingly and nodded to herself as I finished the lot.

"That's better isn't it? You're looking too thin, we'll need to feed you up. How long are you staying for?"

"Want to get rid of me already?"

"Don't talk stuff. You know I'm thrilled to see you. Your mother will be too even if she wont say it. Though I must say she's happy to see that young man of yours again. She took him all over the gardens yesterday."

"That must have been a treat for him," I said sotto voce. Then in a normal tone I said, "he's not my young man anyway."

Mrs M gave me a look.

"Isn't he? Then why did he drive you all the way from London at midnight?" I ignored her and took a slurp of tea.

Mrs M got breakfast together and took it through to the breakfast room. My mother was an early riser, mostly so that she could be out in the garden as soon as possible, but I knew she wouldn't come looking for me. I flicked idly through one of the old Country Life magazines stacked by the sofa and let time pass.

Mrs M came back to the kitchen with the dirty plates from breakfast. She tidied up around me then went to see to the rest of the house. Before she left she said,

"Your young man should be up soon. Tell him his breakfast is in the warming oven in the Aga and to shout if he needs anything." I promised her that I would.

SH came down not long after. I told him I was surprised he was up so early. He grinned and sat down at the old kitchen table with his breakfast.

"Really babe, country hours when in the country, town hours when in town. Can't spend the day in bed here."

"Unlike in town?" He gave me a sardonic smile.

"Exactly. Nice PJs by the way." I looked down at my old striped flannel pajamas and laughed. The legs were far too short and had holes over the knee. I used to wear them at boarding school and was amazed they hadn't gone for rags.

"What are we doing today babe?"

"Don't you have to head back to town?"

"No, the band were having a week off. T is off the booze and wants a detox, P has gone on holiday with his girlfriend and B has a wedding somewhere."

"What about you? What were your plans?" SH looked at me carefully, grinning ironically.

"Spend the week with you of course."

"You dreadful liar. I hope whoever she is will forgive you." He laughed then and came over to sit next to me on the sofa. He turfed off Hatty who immediately jumped back up and drooled on his leg.

"Fatty! Get off you silly bitch. Why can't your mother keep nice smart dogs? Why does she have to have these disgusting old women?" He was stroking Fatty Hatty, as she's known, not meaning a word he said.

SH put his arm around me and we sat comfortably together stroking the dogs in easy silence.