Page 34 of New Beginnings at the Little Christmas Inn
‘Computer programs in the nineteenth century? Really?’ Livvy scanned the portrait again. ‘Wonder if Adela was as clever? She was certainly beautiful. Why didn’t she marry? I’d imagine it was the expected thing back then.’
Mark nodded. ‘Ada Lovelace did. And had children. She was only in her thirties when she died. Who knows what she would have achieved had she lived longer.’ He pushed his specs up his nose in an endearing gesture. ‘Maybe Adela thought an independent life was the better option.’
Livvy thought of Gavin. ‘She might have had a point,’ she said, drily. Examining the portrait more closely, she added, as realisation dawned, ‘You know, she looks exactly like the woman whose sketch is in the book I found in the chimney. I can show you, if you like, it’s back at the pub.’ She frowned, trying to get her head around it all. ‘But, if it is Adela Dickson in the notebook, why would a sketch of her be in a book found stuffed up the chimney in The George?’
‘No idea,’ Mark said, cheerfully. ‘But I think Barbara’s converted me. I’m finding this all very intriguing. I’d love to have a look at the drawing.’
‘There’s some poetry in the book too.’
‘Any good?’
Livvy grinned. ‘I’d say he was a better artist than writer.’
Mark grinned back. ‘Ah.’
‘To be fair, I’m no expert in early nineteenth century literature.’ Livvy beamed at him. ‘It was worth coming into the museum for this alone.’ She moved on to a display case. ‘Oh, Mark! Here’s a drawing of The George. I’d love to get hold of a copy. Look, you can see the arch over the entrance to the car park. It’s attached to what is now that office block. Must have been where the old horse-drawn coaches entered. Funny that it’s still the way into the car park. And look, it says here it had stabling for fifty horses. Wow.’ She giggled. ‘The stables must be those decrepit outhouses I’ve inherited. At some point, in the far distant future, I plan to convert them into holiday accommodation. Oh, this bit is all about a carriage crash. It says just as the coach was coming down the hill into town it overturned.’ She reared back in horror. ‘A passenger died. How awful. No wonder the route wasn’t popular. Too dangerous. Not sure I want The George to be associated with such a tragedy. Maybe I’ll rethink that local history display.’
Mark slung a comforting arm around her shoulders. ‘There must be loads of memories of The George that people can share. Perhaps ones not so old and sad. Birthday parties, people getting together. Maybe ask people for happy photos to put up.’
‘That’s a much better idea. I can’t believe my pub was the scene of such drama.’ She shuddered. ‘It’s horrible.’
Mark tightened his arm. ‘And a long time ago,’ he said kindly. ‘Do you want to look at anything else, or shall we get out of here? Come on,’ he added, teasing, ‘let’s take a leap back into the twenty-first century. Or do you want to stare at a few mummified cats?’
Livvy elbowed him in the ribs and shook her head. ‘No thanks.’ At that precise moment her stomach gurgled. ‘Sorry,’ she blushed. ‘Didn’t have any breakfast.’
‘Think I should remedy that. Come on, I know just the place.’
CHAPTER 21
Acqua frizzante – crisp, refreshing and the perfect sparkling accompaniment to food
They left the van parked up at the museum and Mark drove her to an Italian restaurant in the next town. ‘They do fantastic pizzas here,’ he explained, as they sat down.
When their food arrived, Livvy had to agree. ‘Would be super to do something like this at the pub. Maybe in the summer when the beer garden’s done.’
Mark took the last slice and held it up, trying to catch the dangling cheese. ‘You reckon? Would need a proper pizza oven and an authentic dough recipe. Nice idea though.’ He took an enormous bite and pleasure spread across his face. ‘That was so good, he said, when he’d finished. He picked up a wodge of paper serviettes and wiped his fingers. ‘Nothing like pizza for a quick lunch.’
‘How do you find these places?’ Livvy gestured around at the restaurant which was barely more than a café and which was tucked away up an alley off the main street. It, too, had entered into the Christmas mood. Dean Martin crooned ‘Let it Snow’ over the sound system, the restaurant glowed softly with walls covered in curtains of white lights and a fat Father Christmas figure stood on the bar gyrating along. ‘If I hadn’t been able to smell garlic, I wouldn’t have known there was anything here.’ She touched the carafe holding a spluttering red candle and around which had been wound ivy and mistletoe. Despite its humble setting the place was deeply romantic.
‘Word of mouth, I suppose. Italian food has to be my favourite, and this place is rumoured to bring pizza wannabe chefs from Naples here to learn their craft. Been owned by the same family for generations. I love places like this. There’s always room for big swanky showy-off restaurants, but you can’t beat these little places. Italy does them well.’
‘Have you travelled much in Italy?’
Mark nodded, halfway through drinking someacqua frizzante.‘My favourite place on earth,’ he said, as he put the glass down. ‘It’s one place I could see myself living.’
‘Whereabouts would you go?’
‘Too many wonderful places to choose from. Umbria maybe?’ He grimaced. ‘Bit hackneyed though. I love Sicily and the Cinque Terre, and the east coast is spectacular as well. And I’m sneakily fond of Sorrento, despite the tourists.’
‘Sounds like youhavetravelled a lot in Italy.’ Livvy smiled but the thought of Mark settling in another country was upsetting. She’d miss him if he went away from Lullbury.Only as a friend,she added, hastily, in her head.We are just friends, right?
‘Sounds as if you’ve travelled a lot too’
‘I have, and when I was a kid, with my parents, before I went to boarding school. Although they were mostly working, so it was me and the nanny.’ Livvy thought back to the succession of nannies and au pairs she’d had looking after her as a child. Some kind, some fun. One or two neither. It had been a lonely existence. Gilded but lonely. ‘So, on paper at least, I am extremely well-travelled, but I can’t say I’ve got to grips with anywhere. Not as you obviously have.’
‘Perhaps we should do a research trip to the land of the pizza.’ Mark grinned broadly.
‘Perhaps we should,’ Livvy answered, knowing she could never get enough time away from the pub to make it happen. The thought of travelling to one of the world’s most romantic places with Mark filled her with joy.But we’re just friends,she reminded herself again.
