Chapter 2

Angela sat for a moment looking round the living room. Her gaze fall upon the little altar in the corner and after a moment's indecision, she hopped over to it, and knelt with some difficulty to look more closely. The little statue by the crucifix was indeed of the Buddha sitting in meditation.

The picture at the front to the left was of a really beautiful young woman and a pretty little child of perhaps three years old. The woman looked to be in her mid-twenties and was smiling happily. Behind it was a photo of a older couple, and she thought she could see a resemblance to Joseph. These two were smiling and seemed to be in love, though if pushed she could not have explained why she thought that. On the other side was a silhouette of a man. She wondered why there was no photo of him.

To the front, on the pristine white cloth, was a thick white candle on a saucer and on the floor to the right, a box of matches. Then she saw something else. Behind the candle lying one on top of the other, were two rings. They looked like wedding rings, and she wondered if they belonged to the older couple or someone else, perhaps the woman.

She looked at the array for a long time, before the ache in her ankle forced her to clamber clumsily to her feet, wincing at the pain as she put the injured foot down for a moment.

She felt curious, very curious. Joseph had said she could look round after all. So she hopped to the door and out into the hallway.

The hallway floor was of stone flags as was the living room. There was a coat stand, a carved oak settle which probably contained boots and gloves and the like under the seat, and a tall grandfather clock methodically ticking away the seconds. It was the only clock in the house, she was to find out later. She did not remember it chiming.

There was a door opposite the living room, and this she opened, switching on the light. It was a study. What walls she could see were white and one wall had tall bookshelves from end to end on which were books on all sorts of topics, as well as the classic English authors. There was a reclining armchair, with an integral footstool, which looked really comfortable, and at the window, which had the same thick curtains as in the living room, there was a large desk upon which was a laptop and a printer, and the usual array of writing materials, tidily arranged. An office chair was pulled up to it. The room was warm though the wood stove in the fireplace was not lit, and she noticed a radiator on the wall behind the door, where there was also a floor to ceiling cupboard. She did not open it.

She switched off the light, left the room and turned down the hallway towards the back of the house, passing a staircase to an upper floor, which in her present state she did not want to climb. At the end of the hallway was a door facing her which looked newer than the others, though in the same style, and this she opened and stood amazed.

It was the kitchen. The room ran the whole width of the cottage and was clearly an add-on. It was huge and almost square. There was a multi-fuel range cooker with what looked like three ovens; there were fitted cupboards and drawers all round, a washing machine and tumble drier, dishwasher, huge fridge, a chest freezer and a double sink under the big picture window. With all this, there was still room for an oak kitchen table and six chairs and plenty of space all around.

Two long racks hung from the ceiling, from one of which hung herbs, and from the other some clothes. Hers were in the tumble drier which had finished its cycle.

The room surprised her because it was in stark contrast with the rest of the cottage. She did not go in, but moved on to the room between the kitchen and the living room.

It was a bedroom.

Like the living room and hallway, the room was plain. No pictures on the walls, and all the walls painted flat white. The floor was of stone flags which like the study and the living room had a carpet square that that been cut from a bigger carpet. The king-size bed and bedroom furniture were solid wood, simple and practical.

Why Joseph would want a king-size bed crossed her mind; it seemed at odds with the rest of the furniture. There was a plain dressing table, a matching wardrobe and a wooden round-backed armchair. In one corner was a dog basket which was clearly Bob's bed. From the dressing table she learned it must be Joseph's bedroom. The bed she was sitting on must be Joseph's; she wondered if there was another bedroom up the stairs. The room was warm and there again was a double panel radiator.

She closed the door and hopped to the room opposite the bedroom. This was the bathroom and again she was surprised. The room was as large as the living room or the bedroom, with white tiles from floor to ceiling and with black glossy tiles on the floor. There was a bath, large enough for two or even three, she thought with a grin, a toilet and bidet, and double wash bowls. There was a wet area the length of one wall with a shower. She used the toilet and washed her hands, turning out the lights and returning to the living room. On the way she saw a door between the living room and the bedroom, and opened it to see a narrow passageway leading to what seemed to be a storeroom. She went no further but returned to the living room.

She contemplated the house and its patchy luxury. There was a king-size bed, the huge kitchen with its expensive fittings, and that palace of hygiene which was the bathroom. Why? He seemed a man with few resources if one looked at the rest of the house. She mentally shrugged, perhaps she would find some answers when he returned.

The exertion of hopping on one leg everywhere, supporting herself by leaning on the walls, coupled with the pain when she forgot and put her foot down, and her previous frightening experience in the fog and rain, all this had tired her out. Once in her chair by the fire in the heat of the living room she felt drowsy and was asleep when man and dog came through the living room door, the noise of which awoke her.

He came to her and knelt before her.

"Let's see that ankle," he said.

He lifted her leg and gently placed her foot on his knee to examine it. As he untied the bandage, the baggy shorts he had given her slid up her leg and exposed the gentle curve of the underside of her thigh almost to her groin.

That is more leg than I've seen since... the thought surprised him.

It did not arouse him. He felt admiration and pleasure at the beauty of her exposed firm and shapely flesh, but no arousal. However it provoked an appraisal of the woman who had come into his life so suddenly. Her hair was light brown now it had dried, her face was very pretty and delicate. He noticed her hazel eyes, pixie-like little turned up nose and wide mouth. Though she was shapeless under his oversize tee-shirt, he knew she was slim from carrying her home. It did not cross his mind to wonder what size her breasts might be and he had not examined her bra when he put it in the machine, beyond checking its washing instructions.

This appraisal took a fraction of a second and was not really conscious. He felt happy at having her company; it was a real gift and he was grateful. He carefully felt her ankle.

"Not too bad," he said. "Not sprained, just bruised from going over on it. It may be all right by morning."

She for her part saw his glance up her leg and it gave her a frisson of desire. She also saw his eyes catch hers as they briefly took in her face and body. That gave her another tingle of pleasure. He seemed to like what he saw. Was that a hint of a smile? What was she doing, she berated herself.