Chapter 7

Returning home alone on Friday evening seemed slightly odd to Robin. On the other hand, much as he loved Lottë, in her current state of excitement she was quite wearing. He looked forward to a quiet weekend which included a concert given by the London Chorus at St Alban's, Holborn on Saturday evening. Andrea was singing and Robin was going with Christopher. The choir was singing a number of pieces and Robin was particularly looking forward Franck's Panis Angelicus, the opening chorus from Bach's Christmas Oratorio and Schubert's Ave Maria sung by a treble. It turned out to be all he had hoped for. The three of them went on to a Thai restaurant where they had a delicious meal.

On Monday Robin received a letter from Lottë thanking him for putting her up and helping to give her confidence for the interview. He was touched by her taking the trouble to write instead of emailing, texting or telephoning her thanks.

In the middle of the following week she rang.

"Uncle Rob, I hope you don't think I'm taking advantage of you but I haven't been able to find anywhere to live."

"So can you come and stay with me until you do?"

"Yes please, Uncle Rob. I'm sure it'll only be for a few days. I'll actually be able to visit the agencies and there may even be a vacancy advertised at work."

"Of course you can, Lottë, and don't feel rushed. Stay as long as you want or need. About the only person who ever uses the spare room bed is Daphne and if she blows in the sofa lets down into a bed."

"Thank you so much, Uncle Rob. I'll see you on Sunday afternoon."

"I look forward to it."

She duly arrived with four enormous suitcases and a number of plastic bags which Robin and the cabbie lugged to her room.

"Blimey O'Riley!" exclaimed Robin. "There's nowhere near enough wardrobe space for that lot."

"Oh, don't worry. I'm only going to open that one while I'm here." She pointed.

"That sounds highly organised."

"Oh, I'm not just a pretty face, you know," she replied airily.

"I know that, my love."

He was rewarded with a beaming smile. "I've also brought a peace offering from Mum." She delved into one of the plastic bags and produced what looked like a stew pot wrapped in silver foil and sellotaped together.

"Mum's patent all in stew. All we'll need is some greens and we'll be set."

"Wonderful! Thank you, love."

"Don't thank me. Thank Mum. It was her idea."

Robin took the pot out to the kitchen. "I'm going to put the kettle on. Sound good?"

"Great!"

"I've even got some tea cakes to toast."

"Yum! I'll catch you up in a minute."

On Monday morning they repeated their routine of walking across the river together.

"Can I meet you again this evening?" Lottë asked. "I'd like to see if I can find the way back to your flat with you to put me right if I make a nonsense."

"Fine. Give me twenty minutes warning and I'll meet you at the bus stop."

"Thanks."

She found the way back without a problem.

"I hope you'll give me a ring every day when you're on your way," said Robin. "I enjoy our walk together. I'll soon say if I've got to stay late. It doesn't happen often."

"That's good."

"So how did Day One go?"

"Good. I've only got my piece for Saturday to write this week but next week things start to speed up. I've got a painting exhibition preview at Hampstead on Monday and another in York on Thursday. I'll have to go up on Wednesday."

"By train?"

"No. A photographer will be going with me so we'll be driving up in his van. He's got a load of equipment."

"Have you met him?"

"Yes. I like him. Sid. He's in his mid-fifties and very fatherly."

"Good news! He'll set you on your feet."

"Mm!"

"What's your article this Saturday going to be about?"

"Me. Introducing myself and saying what my interests are."

"Sounds good and the next one?"

"The York exhibition."

"OK. At least you won't have to make something up again. Right, I'm going to have a shower and change."

"I'll follow you."

It was time for a drink after that.

"What's for supper?" asked Lottë.

"Cottage pie ready meal and broccoli."

"Have you anything planned for tomorrow?"

"Fish pie and peas."

"Ready meal?"

"Yup!"

"Right! Wednesday and Thursday I'm cooking and I'll buy the ingredients."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."

Lottë grinned.

"Pub supper on Friday and pub lunch on Sunday."

"On condition that Sunday's my treat."

She held up her hand as Robin started to protest. "I'm not paying you any rent so hush up, Uncle Robin."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."

She blew him a raspberry.

"Any luck on the flat front?"

She crossed her fingers. "I'm going to look at one at lunchtime tomorrow in Docklands but I think it's going to be too expensive unless I can persuade them to come down fifty quid a week."

"You'll be pushed."

"I know. There's another one in North London that I'm going to see on Saturday morning. That's more like as far as the rent goes."

"Well don't rush yourself. You're welcome to stay here as long as you need."

"Thanks, Uncle Rob." She smiled gratefully. "How was Andrea's concert?"

"Hardly Andrea's but it was excellent. They sang beautifully and the choirboy had an angelic voice. By the way, I'm going to Verdi's Requiem at the Albert Hall on Saturday week. I've got a spare ticket. Would you like to come with me?"

"I'd love to. Thanks, Uncle Rob. I probably ought to go home the weekend after that."

At that moment the telephone rang and Robin answered it. "Speak of the devil," he said. "Lottë was just saying that she'd like to go down and see you in three weeks' time. Hang on, Matty, and I'll hand you over."

He gave the telephone to Lottë and went out to the kitchen to start supper and get himself another drink. He sat at the kitchen table and had a look at the crossword while waiting for Lottë to finish.

The following morning it was pouring with rain.

"I haven't brought a mack," wailed Lottë.

"Don't worry. I've got a spare golf umbrella you can borrow."

She rang him at two. "The landlord wouldn't budge on rent," she said. "Actually, I'm rather glad. He lives in the same block and gave me the squirms. He talked to my boobs throughout."

"Yuck! It sounds to me as though you're well out of it."

"I reckon. Quarter past six?"

"Fine."

"See you then. 'Bye, Uncle Rob."

It was still raining and rather more heavily so that it was splashing up off the pavement. By the time they got home they were both soaked from the knees down.

"Your turn first in the shower," said Robin. "Give me your shoes."

Lottë smiled gratefully and did as she was told. Robin stuffed both pairs of shoes with newspaper and put them in the airing cupboard to dry. He then went and took off his wet trousers and sat on his bed waiting for Lottë to finish. She was not long and went straight to the kitchen to pour them both a drink. She tapped on the bathroom door.