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5
The pub was packed and very hot, thanks to the low-beamed ceiling and the balmy evening. But it was charming. Lettie weaved her way to the bar and leaned against it, waiting for the barman to notice her.
History seemed to leach from the pub’s stone walls. Lettie could imagine the people who had sat in here over the centuries, sharing their joys and sorrows. Drinking too much, sparking arguments, falling in love.
The walls were so thick, people were sitting in the wide windowsills that were topped with bright cushions. Others were grouped around dark wooden tables close to the huge fireplace, its hearth blackened by centuries of use. A back door was open, revealing a walled garden that also looked packed full. She assumed several customers – those with glowing sunburned faces – were tourists, but Lettie could also hear the soft Devon burr of locals all around her.
The atmosphere was so different from her London local, a brightly lit gastro pub with piped music and staff from all over the world providing table service. Here, it was horse brasses on the walls, and dog-eat-dog at the crowded bar.
After finally being served, she did a lap of the pub, looking for Claude. But he was nowhere to be seen and all she managed to do was annoy people and tread on a poor spaniel’s tail as she made her way through the crowd. Eventually, she gave up and looked around for a seat. The only spare place was at a small table for two, where a young blond man was sitting with a pint of beer in his hand. Was he waiting for someone? The open laptop in front of him suggested not so Lettie weaved her way through the throng towards him.
He looked up when she got to the table, but didn’t smile.
‘Is this chair taken?’ asked Lettie.
‘No.’
He went back to staring at the laptop screen while Lettie slid into the seat with her gin and tonic. She pulled her history of London book from her bag and started reading about Celtic queen Boudicca burning the city, while stealing glances at the man opposite. He had a light caramel tan and was wearing a pristine white T-shirt that showed it off. Lettie watched his fingers tapping on the keyboard, noticing his gold signet ring and his square-cut fingernails.
An IT consultant, she decided. Or someone in finance. He had the look of an accountant, with his short, neat hair and clean-shaven face. He was good-looking, and probably knew it.
Lettie’s phone suddenly beeped with a WhatsApp message from Kelly.
What the hell are you doing in Devon? Dirty weekend?
Lettie smiled. She and Kelly had been inseparable since school, until Kelly got married. Now she had a gorgeous little girl called Matilda, and the friendship had cooled. They were still good mates, and Lettie sometimes babysat so Kelly and Adam could have a night out, but their relationship had changed. Of course it had. Kelly had moved on to something new while Lettie’s life had remained the same – basically, working (though not any more), fending off her mother’s matchmaking efforts, and acting as an unpaid nanny for Daisy.
Sadly not,she replied.Am taking a short break before I start job-hunting with a vengeance.
When her phone pinged again almost immediately, the man opposite looked up from his laptop screen and cast her an annoyed glance.
Have you told your mum and dad yet that you’ve lost your job?
Not yet,Lettie replied, switching her phone to silent.They’ll go ape- shit.
Not if you tell them what really happened,came back almost immediately.I don’t reckon they can legally sack you for doing that anyway.
Kelly really didn’t know her family very well. Telling them that she’d been ‘let go’ from her relatively new job for being rude to a customer would be a huge disappointment. And, to be honest, Lettie could hardly believe her behaviour herself. It was totally out of character, as was fleeing to Devon to unravel an ages-old mystery that was possibly all in her head.
Sometimes, these days, she wondered if she was having a bit of a breakdown.
I hated the job anyway but need something else to pay the bills,she fired back to Kelly, who replied immediately.
If things get too tight, maybe you could move in with your parents for a while.
Lettie hadn’t even contemplated that scenario. If she moved back into her parents’ house – which her mother would love – she’d be smothered by their well-intentioned interfering. And being tagged by her siblings as their parents’ ‘helper’ would be even harder to avoid. While she was trying not to panic, a final message pinged through from Kelly.
Something’ll come up. Gotta go cos Tilly won’t settle down this eve. She’s doing my head in. Take my advice and NEVER HAVE KIDS! x
Fat chance, thought Lettie, sitting back and wondering whether searching for a new job in customer care would ruin her evening.
At least the job she’d just lost had given her a chance to read. The work was sporadic and, in between calls, she’d surf the net, reading about people long gone and researching which historical exhibition she’d visit next. Staff at many London museums waved hello when they saw her because she spent so much time there.
But now she needed something new.
Glancing at the man opposite, who was clattering furiously on his computer keys, she typed ‘customer care vacancies, London’ into her phone and clicked on one of the first options that came up.
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