18. Making Connections

18

Making Connections

The sound of a strimmer came from through the trees. Behind Josie, someone else was hammering away in the barn. Wading through an area of weeds that was yet to be given the manicure treatment, Josie reached the bottom of the helter-skelter and started up.

The stairs, the broken boards now replaced with new ones, wound up and up. Even though several weeks of manual labour had toughened Josie somewhat, she still found herself puffing as she turned a corner to reach the little viewing platform at the top of the slide.

A rope hung across the top of the slide itself. Gummed up with years of accumulated leaf litter, she hadn’t yet checked it for safety, and while Tiffany had volunteered to be a guinea pig, Josie hadn’t allowed it. Robinson had a mate who would come and have a look sometime in the next week.

Lindsay stood at the top, a paintbrush in hand, a pot of red paint by her feet, as she carefully touched up the designs that had faded over the long years of disuse and abandonment.

‘How’s it going?’ Josie asked, as the older woman turned and gave her a smile.

It seemed strange to think of overalls flecked with paint as an improvement, but compared to Lindsay’s previous rag-like attire, it was significant. Lindsay turned to look at Josie. Her face had lost its hardness, her cheeks no longer quite so hollow, filling in some of the lines with a touch of vitality. She would never be young again, nor even flush with it, but she now looked closer to Josie’s age than Hilda’s. Her hair, light brown streaked with grey, after a cut and styling now looked fashionable rather than unruly.

‘I called them,’ she said, then lifted a hand to wipe away a tear. ‘Barney lent me his phone. Last night, I called all of them.’

Josie found herself welling up. ‘How on earth did you get reception?’ she asked, choking back a sob.

Lindsay smiled. ‘I sat right here. You can get a solid five bars.’

‘That’s great.’

‘We talked. I’m going back in the summer for a couple of weeks. Do you think you’ll be able to manage?’

‘We’ll be fine. We’ll hold your cabin for you, though. I’m hoping to stay open right through September if the weather stays good.’ She grinned. ‘Target the retirement age group, maybe, once the kids have gone back.’

‘Thank you,’ Lindsay said.

Josie shook her head. ‘I literally did nothing. This was all you.’

‘You listened. Most people just talk and talk and talk. I just needed someone to listen. Thank you.’

Josie came forwards and the two women shared a hug. ‘No worries,’ Josie said.

‘Oh, something else,’ Lindsay said, pulling away. ‘Geoffrey asked me to go and get ice cream with him one evening. What do you think?’

‘Geoffrey … ice cream? Wow, that’s … smooth.’

‘I mean, he looks better without the beard. Tidier. He’s about ten years younger than I thought, too.’

‘Do you like him?’

Lindsay grinned. ‘I spent two months living in a treehouse with him. I think if I didn’t, I might have pitched him over the railing at some point.’

‘Box one ticked. Do you like ice cream?’

Lindsay rolled her eyes. ‘Who doesn’t?’

‘Then go for it.’

Lindsay lifted an eyebrow. ‘I’ll wait and see if he asks again. Check if he’s keen or not.’

‘Nothing like being a teenager again, is there?’ Josie said with a smile.

‘We’re all going to die eventually,’ Lindsay said. ‘I suppose we’d better make the best of things while we can. Mistakes, and everything else.’

Josie said goodbye to Lindsay and headed back up to the reception and shop, where she found Tiffany sitting behind a nearly installed desk which smelled of pine and resin. A fashionable ladies’ cap perched on top of her head as she hunkered down over a laptop computer.

‘Aha, got it. And we have … a connection!’

‘Everything going okay?’

Tiffany looked up. ‘Perfect. Now we have a net connection, I can start working on the website and getting us on all the listings sites. Are you ready for the flood?’

‘Of people, I hope.’

‘Once I work a bit of SEO magic, we’ll be everywhere. I’m about to put Porth Melynos Caravan and Camping Park on the virtual map.’

‘That’s great. You know, it was a godsend you coming here. I could never have done all this stuff without you. Scrubbing and sweeping is about all I’m capable of.’

Tiffany frowned. ‘Don’t sell yourself short, Mum.’

‘I’m not—’

‘Just because Dad and you weren’t compatible, doesn’t mean you’re not capable of anything you want to do.’

‘Shouldn’t it be me telling you things like that? And what do you mean, we weren’t compatible?’

‘Honestly, I don’t know how you stayed together so long. You’re so different. I know when I was a kid, I saw it all through rose-tinted glasses, but you know, I’m older now. I can see the cracks. You should have broken up years ago. I appreciate that you made the effort for me, though.’

Josie flapped her hands, trying to think of the right thing to say. ‘It wasn’t that … it was just … I don’t know, a case of just keep your head down and carry on, hope things work out.’

‘Yeah, that’s the old way of doing things, and its commendable, I suppose. Don’t tell me you’re not happier now, though.’

‘Happier, maybe. Definitely not better off. I mean, I have to shower in a shared toilet block a five-minute walk from where I sleep. And come autumn, I might be homeless again.’

‘Bridges, Mum. It’s all just bridges to cross.’

Josie smiled and patted Tiffany on the shoulder. ‘I sent you off to university all bright-eyed and innocent, worried you’d get drunk on your first night and forget where you lived—ha, kind of like I did—and five years later you came back, but thirty years older.’

Tiffany lifted an eyebrow and tugged at a curl of hair. ‘Can you see any grey ones yet?’

‘You’re good.’

‘Must be the dye. So long as you can’t tell I’m an old biddy. By the way, I’m going down to the pub tonight if you want to join. Me and Barney are meeting Rachel and her fiancé. You know, the doctor? I mean, there might be a bit of shop talk, but that won’t take long. Apparently they’ve got a comedian coming in, some localish girl from up Willow River way. Come on, it’ll be a laugh.’

‘I appreciate the thought, but let me take you a step back there. You and Barney?’

‘Mum … we’re just mates. I mean, look at my options. You—my mother—Lindsay or Geoff. Much as I like them….’ She flapped her hands. ‘…. I don’t want to hang out. Barney wins by default, but it just so happens that he’s cool.’ Tiffany clicked her fingers. ‘Bonus.’

‘Mates?’

‘Mum, I’m on a bit of a life rebound, don’t you know? Just fun for the time being. You don’t need to worry.’

Josie sighed. ‘You’re a wonderful daughter.’

‘Of course I am. I got half of your genes and the good half of Dad’s. So what’s your excuse for pub-avoidance anyway?’

‘I’m meeting Hilda. She wants to take me somewhere.’

‘Sounds exciting. Well, have fun. And if you get back in time, you know where to find us.’

Josie left Tiffany to her computer work and went back to her cabin to change. Hilda had said only to wear something warm and suitable for walking. Hilda put on her wellies and grabbed her coat, then headed up to the main road to wait.

She didn’t have to wait long. Hilda came hammering around the corner on her motorbike and pulled up beside Josie. She lifted her aviator’s googles and grinned at Josie.

‘Need a ride?’

‘Where are we going?’

‘You’ll see.’

Hilda headed inland, and half an hour of wild driving later, the grey-green rise of Dartmoor appeared in front of them.

‘Hound Tor,’ Hilda said, when they stopped at a petrol station. ‘One of the best sunset views in Devon. I’ve always meant to go but never got around to it.’

‘You’re expecting me to go walking on Dartmoor in wellies?’

Hilda grinned. ‘At least you don’t need a stick.’

It seemed like a ridiculous plan, setting off for the peak of Hound Tor at five o’clock in the evening, armed only with some warm coats, a flask of coffee, some sandwiches, a compass, a pair of torches, and some spare batteries, just in case. Yet, as Hilda, walking with a stick, set a pace that Josie struggled to match, she could only marvel at her friend’s spirit. Josie, concerned that they would get lost in the dark, had voiced her concerns to Hilda, only for her friend to produce a red beacon light which stuck with tape to the motorbike’s petrol tank.

‘This is a nifty little thing I got on the internet,’ she said. ‘It comes on after dark, and it also has an alarm attached. It’ll guide us home and keep any would-be thieves off my bike. Right, off we go.’

Hilda, for all her initial enthusiasm, started to tire as they neared the tor. By the time they reached the rocky outcrop, Josie was supporting her by one arm, and helped her to sit down on a flat section of rock with a view to the west where the sun hung low in the sky.

‘Phew,’ Hilda said, wiping her brow. ‘We made it.’

‘I think you’re mad,’ Josie said. ‘I didn’t think you were going to get up that last steep bit.’

‘Ah, all downhill from here,’ Hilda said, pointing at the distant car park down in the valley, where their motorcycle and sidecar was a tiny speck alongside a handful of other cars. ‘Right, let’s get that coffee out.’

Josie did the honours, and they sat on the rock, coats pulled around them as the sun dipped towards the horizon, talking easily about nothing in particular, eating their sandwiches and drinking coffee. Josie had to admit, the view was spectacular, the sun’s orange glow spreading across the wide expanse of Dartmoor as behind them the sky turned dark blue and then purple as the day slipped away.

‘This was rated number three in best sunsets in the region by Southwest Life and Times Magazine ,’ Hilda said, ‘behind Hope Cove in South Devon and Land’s End. I’ve seen both of those, though.’

‘Sounds like you’re ticking off a bucket list,’ Josie said.

‘Something like that. Another one is seeing my best friend happy.’

‘Well, you can tick that box. There were a few teething problems, but things are moving pretty smoothly now.’

‘Lovely that Tiffany came down to stay,’ Hilda said. ‘She seems to have fitted right in. I sometimes wish I’d had children.’ She sighed. ‘I was always too busy. Never gave myself a minute’s break from work.’

‘If it makes you feel better, I sometimes think of you as a surrogate mother.’

‘Oh, you’re too kind.’

‘You’ve done so much for me, though. If you hadn’t forced the issue, I’d probably still be living in my cousin’s flat.’

‘No, you’d have done something. You’ve always had that kind of warrior spirit. I knew you’d be all right if I could just get you down here. And look at you now. The campsite is looking great. When is it you’re planning to open?’

‘Tiffany said we should aim for the first of June.’

‘Do you think you’ll be ready?’

‘It’s going to be tight. We still have a fair bit of maintenance work to do, and we haven’t stocked the shop yet, but Tiffany said we’ve already got a few bookings.’

‘That’s great news.’

‘I’m lucky to have a daughter capable of doing all the online stuff, while Lindsay, Geoffrey and Barney have been great around the camp. Then there’s Robinson … he’s done so much around the place when he’s been available.’

‘He’s a lovely man.’ Hilda grinned. ‘You should flutter your eyelashes at him a little more.’

Josie felt herself blushing. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Tiffany was saying the same thing. I’m just not … not ready. And anyway, I don’t think … we’re not really suited, are we? He’s a … what, a handyman? He’s so practical. I’m not. I mean, I’m—I was—a teacher. I’ve spent my whole life indoors. He looks like he spends half his life on the beach. I spent half of mine in a darkened room.’

Hilda patted her on the arm. ‘Oh, Josie, you always assume so much. You know what he does for a living, don’t you?’

‘Fixes things?’

‘I admit that he’s got a knack for it. He installed the water lights in my pond and also repaired the frame around my mock Tudor entrance, but that’s just for a bit of spare change when he’s got nothing else on.’

‘That’s not his job?’

‘Goodness, no. He’s a geologist.’

‘A … geologist? Like, a scientist?’

‘He works for University College London, where he lectures. I think it’s exam period at the moment, which is why he keeps going back upcountry.’

‘Huh. And I was—’

‘A geography teacher?’

Josie smiled. ‘Yep.’

‘I don’t know what it is about the modern world, but people are always so afraid to ask questions that they prefer to just assume the answers. He’s a geologist; you’re a geography teacher. You’re more or less the same age, and you’re both single.’ Hilda grinned. ‘And you’re both divorced.’

‘Are we?’

‘Nat was telling me. She was a lecturer too, got offered a position in Edinburgh. It turned out one of the other lecturers up there was more than just a colleague.’

‘Oh my.’

‘And he has a son, Steven. He’s in the second year of a business degree at Reading University. Robinson often stops in to visit him on the way back down to Cornwall.’

‘Do you make notes on people?’

‘No, I’m just getting old. I’m not afraid to gossip because what does it matter to me anymore? I like to know about people, so I ask. Everything these days is filtered through a screen, people only giving up what they’re willing to tell, and expecting that other people are exactly the same.’ She clenched a fist and tapped it three times against the rock. ‘Just … ask … questions.’

‘All right. Why did you really need to walk all the way up here just to look at the sunset? And why did you want me to come?’

Hilda’s smile dropped. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t push my views on people quite so hard, should I? Ask the dog enough times to bite and it will, and all that.’

‘Come on. Share.’

‘Isn’t the sunset beautiful? I mean, it’s everything I expected it to be and more. Wouldn’t it be great if you could get those colours to streak in the petals of a rose?’

‘Hilda…?’

The old woman wasn’t listening, however. As the sun started to dip below the distant horizon, colours fanning around it as though it were melting into the moor itself, Hilda climbed down from the rock, shouldered her bag, picked up her stick, and started off back down the hill.

‘Come on,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘We really should be getting back to the bike. It’ll be getting dark soon, and I’m not as mobile as I used to be.’

For a few seconds, Josie just watched her friend’s back, before she gathered up her things and started down.

What was up with Hilda? For a woman so insistent that Josie be open and share her feelings, she had locked her own behind a closed door.

Something was wrong, Josie could feel it.