Page 37 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure
‘But things didn’t work out with your husband?’
‘Nope, there were too many sweeties in the sweetie shop for my Steve.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘Don’t waste your tears.’ Cheryl smiled. ‘By then, Ruby had come to work for us and was a dab hand at the stove. I loved the fact that she made my life so much easier.’
‘And would I be right in thinking that you came to love Ruby too?’
‘Got it in one, Cowboy,’ Cheryl smiled. ‘Ruby wastravelling around, trying to find herself. She’d just come out, so to speak, and we hit it off from the moment we met.’
Atticus chuckled. ‘Sounds like quite the adventure.’
‘Oh, it was,’ Cheryl agreed, her eyes sparkling with fond memories. ‘We’ve been on quite a journey together, Ruby and I.’
‘What happened to the bar?’
‘Steve’s still running it. He paid me off and shacked up with one of the waitresses.’
Atticus laughed. He looked at Cheryl and decided he’d never met anyone like her. In her sixties, she was a woman with a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye. Wearing white shorts and a halter top to show off her nut-brown tan covering her ample body, Cheryl was larger than life and as open as any book he’d ever read. Atticus instinctively knew she was a woman with a heart of gold.
‘We spend some of the year back home at Ruby’s house in Halifax,’ Cheryl said. ‘Ruby was a mental health nurse, but we’re both retired now, and we fill our days doing voluntary work at the local hospice and helping to run their charity shop.’ She dug a folding fan out of her bag and began to wave it in front of her face. ‘It’s heating up,’ she said, then continued, ‘When we’re here, we both put a shift in at Steve’s bar if he’s short of staff.’
‘And you stay in a chalet at Solma Vacaciones?’
‘Yes, the management let us have a long-term let. Honestly, the site has everything we could want.’
‘Aye, I can see that.’ Atticus thought of all the amenities he’d beenshown earlier.
‘It’s close to the beach and the town of Guardamar. We must take you there; you’ll enjoy it.’
‘I’d like that.’ Atticus nodded, his heart warmed by Cheryl’s thoughtfulness. ‘I’m so pleased that I met you, Cheryl. You’ve been very kind to me.’
‘Ah, getaway with you.’ Cheryl patted his arm. ‘I expect you’ve got a story to tell too?’
‘Not really,’ Atticus said. ‘My life has been very simple. I ran a sheep farm in Cumbria and was married to my Clara for a very long time.’ He paused and eased the heavy fabric of his shirt away from his perspiring skin. ‘Part of this trip is to honour Clara. We’d planned a lavish Spanish holiday to celebrate our special wedding anniversary.’
Cheryl nodded. ‘But she passed before you could make the trip together.’
‘Yes,’ Atticus said, his voice tinged with sorrow. ‘But I brought a part of her with me.’ He turned to Cheryl with a small smile. ‘She’s in a box, in the front compartment of Winnie.’
Cheryl’s face lit up, and she clapped her hands. ‘How wonderful! Then you must have a lovely celebration and scatter her ashes in the sea – the same waters you both would have swum in.’
‘That’s exactly what I’ll do.’ Atticus nodded. ‘When she died a few years ago, I was heartbroken. I’m afraid I let things slip at the farm until my son, Mungo, stepped in.’
‘Your son kept the business going?’ Cheryl leaned forward, her head tilted to one side.
‘Well, he completely transformed it and it’s now a fancy farm shop, café, and caravan site.’
‘It sounds successful?’
‘It is, but I haven’t a clue about my son’s newfangled ideas, and I’m afraid I became a bit of a hermit until I recently discovered Winnie in an old barn. My grandson helped me get her back on the road.’
‘Mungo doesn’t approve?’
‘Nope, he thinks I’m off my rocker.’
‘A few cards short of a full deck?’
