Abby - Cover

Abby

Copyright© April 2009 Texrep

Chapter 35

Abby and James left at nine-thirty that Sunday morning, Abby without thinking getting into the passenger seat so that James could drive. He took the road through Paverton and across the moor to Wheddon Cross and then down to Bishops Lydeard and Taunton. Abby was puzzled.

"Why did you come this way?"

"There is a lot less traffic on this road. It's a bit longer, but easier so it takes about the same time as going down the valley." Once on the Motorway James put his foot down. The car cruised effortlessly and he shocked himself when looking down he realised that they were doing ninety-five miles an hour. He relaxed his foot and slowed the car down to just less than eighty miles an hour.

"It's a good thing I don't have one of these," he remarked, "I could lose my licence in no time." Abby laughed. She was very happy, the idea of having James' company for two days appealed tremendously, and she was very content just sitting there comfortably enjoying the journey. Apart from the road works at Bristol they made good time even allowing for a stop for coffee at Leigh Delamere services.

As they approached London, Abby asked James if he wanted directions. "I should be alright." He answered. "Should I make for Kensington High Street?" "Yes. I am not too far from the station." Abby directed him from the station and then to the underground car park of her block of flats. Abby let them in to the entrance hall with her key and they were greeted by the porter, Michael, who had seen them drive into the garage on closed circuit television.

"Miss Tregonney, how nice to see you again, have you returned to us now?"

"Yes, but only for a couple of days, Michael. I am putting the flat on the market, and moving down to Devon permanently."

"I shall be sorry to see you go, Miss Tregonney." He looked at James.

"Good afternoon Sir." Abby hurried to make the introduction.

"Oh Michael, this is James Comberford, a good friend. He has come up to help me pack my things."

"It is good to make your acquaintance, Sir." Michael didn't extend his hand as most man would do; rather he stood there at a sort of attention.

James summed him up in no time.

"Good afternoon, Michael, not on parade now though." he grinned, as Michael relaxed his face.

"Is it so obvious, Sir?"

"Only to someone who has also been in. Sergeant, or was it Sergeant Major?"

"Sarn Major, Sir. The Royal Green Jackets. I suppose it was standing to attention gave it away."

"No Sarn Major. It's the boots." He looked down. "Never forget that lesson do you?" Michael laughed, and kept the smile on his face as he looked down at James' footwear and said without rancour.

"I would put your Batman on a charge, Sir." Instinctively recognising officer material. James hugely enjoyed the joke. "If I may ask, Sir, what Regiment?"

"Two Para."

"Indeed Sir." this seemed to Abby to be said with respect. "I have an oppo who was in that lot. Name of Diggins, he made Sergeant."

"Not Spade?"

"That's what they call him behind his back. Yes Sir. Then you would be Captain Comberford?"

"Yes."

"In that case Sir, I am very pleased to meet you."

"All in the past Michael, all in the past."

"Yes Sir."

Abby had stood there dumbfounded as this Male bonding process had gone along. In just a few moments, Michael had found out details it had taken Abby months to discover. Then she realised that the common bond of service would bridge any awkward gaps. She also noticed that Michael didn't need to ask James about his service in the Falklands, he knew, and was gently told not to mention it by James' words, 'all in the past.' She smiled inwardly as she felt a little jealousy creep into her mind. Perhaps she would try to seduce James whilst they were here.

She opened the door and let James into the flat saying. "It didn't take you long to sum up Michael. I have lived here for ten years and all I knew was that he had been in the army. Nothing else though."

"The army does things to a man, obvious to someone who can recognise the signs."

"Yes but you guessed his rank."

"That was easy. Once a man has made Sergeant, he changes and it stays with him. The way he addressed you and stood, that never goes away."

They walked into the flat, and James looked around with interest and a growing unease. There was no sign of the flat ever being a home, no touches that showed the place had been loved. A few ornaments and couple of pictures on the walls. A large couch, a club chair and a television completed the furnishings of the lounge. A few utensils in the kitchen. No evidence that Abby had ever tried to make this anything but a temporary refuge. The sadness he felt for her at that moment strengthened his feelings. He could not allow her to live like this once she got back to Combe Lyney, Abby needed a home, a proper home, and Combe Lyney would provide that.

Returning to Combe Lyney, The boot full of cases, and the back-seat piled with black bags and various hold-alls, Abby was very happy, not just that she and James had got closer over the last two days, but because she had now surrendered her previous life to history. She hadn't instructed an Estate Agent as yet. Michael was aware of the possible interest by Richard's acquaintance, and would allow him to view the flat when he called. She had left her mobile number and the number of the Combe Inn so that contact could be made. Tomorrow she would call the Solicitors, Chorister Brooks and ask them to handle the sale for her. She looked over at James, driving. Their time together had been good, working together to clear the flat and eating together at a couple of the good restaurants that were close by. One was an Italian restaurant, and Abby had worn a dress that showed quite a lot of cleavage which James had found quite delightful. The waiters seemed to think that this was a romantic assignation and like all Italians to whom 'amore' was everything reacted by ensuring the candle on the table was always well placed to cast light on her eyes and a discreet shadow emphasising the cleft between her breasts, making unnecessary visits to top up their wines, and even singing Italian love songs whilst they served them. Abby and James had laughed together and been serious together and silent at times. It seemed not to matter that there were these pauses in the conversation, she enjoying the atmosphere and James enjoying looking at Abby. He had not objected too much when she was determined to pick up the bill for the meals, but had been adamant when she suggested she should pay for his hotel, saying vehemently "no way." Refusing even to discuss the matter. In her mind it was fate that it should be James taking her away from the old life and driving to a new.

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