Chapter 3

She answered the door almost immediately and took the terrier from Richard. Holding it at arms length she scolded it in the most loving tone of voice before kissing it on the nose and sending it off into the house.

"Thank you so much," she said. "Did you have to wait long?"

"No problem," he replied. "About twenty minutes. They both came back together. Strength in numbers probably."

She grinned. "Little monkeys. How are we going to stop them running off together again tomorrow?"

"Shut them in the car, I guess, and then if we have the time give them a short walk afterwards."

"Good idea! Look, after all this chatting and planning I still don't know your name. Mine's Deborah Cooper."

"Richard Hoddinot!"

"Bad luck!"

"What do you mean?"

"You have a name like me. I rather like Deborah but people will call me Debbie, Debs or even, like the Mitford sisters, Debo which I don't like".

Richard chuckled. "I know exactly and the one I like least is Dick."

Deborah threw back her head and laughed delightedly. "I'll bet," she said.

Richard liked that laugh. It was natural and infectious. He laughed too.

There was a slightly awkward silence after that until Richard said: "Well, I'd better not keep you standing on the doorstep and getting cold. See you tomorrow at two. Goodnight, Deborah!"

"Goodnight, Richard! And thanks again!"

He turned and went back to his car, got in and started it. He glanced back and saw her still framed in the doorway. She returned his wave and he drove off.

The rest of his evening was a write-off. He tried writing some letters, reading a book and watching television. None of them took his mind off Deborah: her bright, vivid, blue eyes, her broad intelligent forehead, her slightly tip-tilted nose, her wide generous mouth, her smile and her unrestrained and infectious laugh. She was small too, something he liked in a woman. It had been part of Rachel's attraction for him.

He wondered what her background was. Was she married, single, divorced or widowed? He very much hoped she was not married as he definitely wanted to see more of her. What did she do for a living? The Old Post Office was not that large but he knew that it had not sold cheaply.

What about the daughter? How old was she? Probably in her early teens judging from Deborah's apparent age. Why, in that case, was Deborah so protective of her?

He took the questions to bed with him and continued to worry at them there but finally fell into a dreamless sleep.