Chapter 13

Grace started on her project to expand her fleet of trucks. Naturally, the first person she talked to was Greg. He was enthusiastic.

“How many requests have you had?” was his first question.

“Two or three a week but three out of five are for one offs at too short notice. Angie’s been transferring those to Claire.”

“They’re always too short notice,” said she. “They must be crackers. Have they never heard of a blooming telephone?”

Grace and Greg chuckled.

“And therefore probably totally disorganised when we did turn up at the appointed time.”

Greg grinned. “Do I hear my manager getting on one of her hobby horses again?”

Grace wrinkled her nose at him.

“Space!” she said. “At any one time we’ve got two or three wagons off the road for servicing or repairs which means vacant slots in the garage other than the trailers. Surely twenty four or forty-eight hours outside aren’t going to do them any harm.”

“None at all and their drivers can always give them a quick hose down before they go out again,” replied Greg. “The only problem is that the lads have their special shelves on the wall behind with the bits and pieces they use for maintaining their wagons on a daily basis. Nothing important really but they are to them with their personal wagon to take care of.”

Grace looked thoughtful. “I know what you mean. I felt the same about my army Landrover. Thinking back on it, it was pretty trivial but it meant a lot to me at the time: my wagon.”

“And it does to the boys.”

“Yes but the garage is full. We’ve got room to expand the garage by a couple of spaces but that would cost and I don’t know how the Board would feel about the expense. They’re so far removed from the nitty-gritty.”

“There’s room for a six bay garage at the end of the yard,” said Greg.

“Yes but it’s expense again.”

“More income though.”

Grace nodded. “Thanks, Greg. I’m going to have to do some more thinking.”

Grace did some research and invited three building firms to give an estimate for a four and a six bay garage bay garage. That took another month which did not impress her.

Terry rang as promised on Friday evening. After a couple of minutes of chit-chat Grace asked him what plan he had dreamed up for the next day.

“The forecast’s good again so I thought we might do a two hour canal trip in the afternoon. We’ll be going out on the Wolverhampton branch so open air and a number of locks. I’ve booked for two forty-five. I hope that sounds all right.”

“You bet. Do you want to come for a cold lunch here?”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, Terry.”

“Sorry, miss! Thank you, miss.”

“That’s more like. Riccardo’s for supper? No speciale just whatever pizza they recommend.

“Great!”

“OK, I’ll book in a minute. Anyway, see you middayish. I can’t wait.”

“I’m pretty excited myself.”

“Only pretty?”

“Understatement but I wouldn’t want you to get a swollen head.”

“Grrr! Goodbye, my Terry.”

“Night night, my Grace.”

Saturday was a success. Grace made Terry guess at the soup ingredients.

“Curry powder.”

“Go on.”

“Oh come off it, Grace. All sorts of things. Mulligatawny.”

“Well done! Something to keep the cockles warm as we venture out into autumnal weather.”

Terry snorted. “Autumnal weather? It’s Indian summer and I don’t need to warm the cockles of my heart when I’m with you.”

Grace’s teasing look vanished in an instant and she smiled lovingly. Terry registered and reached a hand across the table which was warmly but gently squeezed. Nothing was said though.

Grace thoroughly enjoyed the canal trip. There was a running commentary which she found fascinating and she thoroughly enjoyed helping to work the locks. They were home for a cup of tea at half past five and listened, with their arms round each other’s shoulders, to Beethoven’s Triple Concerto until it was time to go to Riccardo’s. That was thoroughly enjoyable as usual.

When Terry stopped outside Grace’s block of flats she reached for his hand. “Please come in for coffee,” she said. “That’s not a hint that we’re going to bed together. It’s just that I won’t see you ‘til Tuesday. Please?”

“Thank you, Grace. I’d love to.”

She smiled ecstatically. “Come on then, my Terry!”

She almost leapt out of his car before dragging him by the hand into the building and her flat.

“Coffee?”

“Yes please.”

She busied herself with that but Terry sensed something different, particularly as she said nothing throughout. She led him to the sitting room and the sofa pulling him down beside her. She put her mug down and turned to him.

“Um, please don’t think me forward, Terry, but I love you.”

Terry put his mug down too, quickly, and then turning towards her took her hands.

“I love you too, my Grace, and have done for months. Oh, my precious! Thank you.”

He leant towards her and kissed her gently but very lovingly.

Coffee was forgotten as they held each other and kissed. That was gentle too but very warm and loving. It went on for a while too.

Terry did not push her. He was still quite shy and he was quite clear that he must do nothing to offend her or, worse still, frighten her away.

Grace was surprised that apart from gentle and loving kisses he did nothing more. She was, she realised, pleasantly surprised. He was totally different from Mike who had quickly homed in on her body after the first slightly passionate kiss. She found herself admiring Terry for his restraint particularly as she did not doubt his love for her, gentle as it was.

He did not linger either. “Much as I hate to leave you, my Grace, I must otherwise I won’t be up to studying tomorrow morning. Don’t doubt my love though, my precious, beautiful girl.”

With another short but very warm kiss Grace released him.

“Sleep well, my love,” she whispered, “and, if you can find time, give me a ring tomorrow and don’t forget it’s sups here on Tuesday but I’ll allow you to do the driving.”