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Ben glanced around, apparently anxious. ‘Did I just hear someone want to do some…sightseeing?’
Aleksey ignored him, still consulting his pamphlets.
Ben ordered when the waitress came over and then handed the menu to him. He waved it away and just remarked unconcerned, ‘I’ll have the same as he is.’
Ben didn’t comment on this except to mutter slyly, ‘Wish I’d ordered the steak and kidney now.’ After another moment, getting very little interaction, he apparently said to himself, ‘I wonder if that’s the tip of Wales.’
Aleksey did glance up at that, and Ben gestured to a tiny dot of land on the horizon. ‘There. That could be the Pembroke Coast. We’re looking that way.’
Aleksey studied this apparition for a moment then commented casually, ‘How odd. It looks like a tiny island.’ Returning to consult his papers, he confirmed, ‘Yes, it is. Lundy.’
‘Lundy? I thought that was near Argentina—huh. What’s there?’
Once more Aleksey checked. Just to see.
‘Oh, not much really. Mainly for tourists now. It’s only two square miles or so big.’
‘About the size of our valley?’
‘Hmm. Bigger. Just about the right size really.’
‘Who owns it?’
Aleksey’s lip curled a little. ‘It was left by a billionaire to the National Trust.’
‘Huh. What’s that word for doing something like that?’
Aleksey had many words for doing something like that. He’d discovered the surprising existence of Lundy Island the day before whilst doing his vital bolt-hole research. Upon discovering it was only a drive away from his house, he’d decided to come and see it for himself. He was fairly sure that no one, certainly not a man who by being exceedingly wealthy was by definition extremely intelligent, could actually give away an island to a perfidious little ungrateful nation that then turned it into a place where just anyone could visit.
Ben was reading Aleksey’s booklets upside down and declared, spinning one around, ‘Hey, there’s a lighthouse and a castle. Lots of shipwrecks too. Sounds like a really cool place.’
Exactly. Given away!
The food arrived. Ben had ordered traditional fish and chips, which suited them both. Ben inhaled his and then ate Aleksey’s chips.
When he was done, and Aleksey was still carefully inspecting his fish for bones, Ben went back to the brochure. ‘You won’t believe this.’
‘Probably not. What?’
‘You can fly to Lundy. There’s a helicopter that takes day-trippers, and guess where it goes from?’
Aleksey tried his dismissive wave. It didn’t even convince him. ‘Bristol? Exeter? I really can’t imagine.’
Ben grinned. ‘Here. Hartland Copters.’
‘Really?’ He leaned forwards and was going to express just the right level of surprise and pleasure when Ben’s face fell.
‘Oh, winter months only. They don’t fly in May.’
‘What!’ Aleksey snatched the information back and scanned the details.
Fucking hell.
The church proved to be quite interesting.
Aleksey couldn’t come up with an excuse not to see it once he’d expressed a desire to do just that, despite that suggestion just being the cover story he’d thought up to enable his more exciting foray to the island, which was now defunct.
He’d not expected to actually enjoy wandering about gravestones, but he had Ben Rider-Mikkelsen by his side, and even Ben could not pretend to be unaware of the attention they received from other sightseers. Aleksey was extremely amused, and it saved the day from being the disappointment it had plunged towards when discovering summer and helicopters didn’t apparently mix.
