The next day was Thursday,
and they were much more disciplined and wrote from breakfast until dinner and
saved the lust for the evening.
The following day was Friday,
and the weather was absolutely foul and was also their household chores day.
They had just finished
breakfast when George arrived.
“Morning you two” he said, “Its
grim out there.”
Molly put a load in the
washing machine before leaving with Geroge to drive to the Stephenson’s
Supermarket in St Pierre, leaving Danny cleaning the bathrooms.
Saturday was a much brighter
day and unseasonably mild, so they set off on foot to explore the fishing
village of Spaniards Creek, so called because it was where a severely damaged
Spanish Galleon from the Armada sought refuge from the English Navy and the
storm in May 1588, the only evidence of the event in the present day were the
oak beams in the Tudor buildings of the old village dwellings.
There was a single road that
wound its way down to the riverside quay where the fleet of fishing boats were
moored, and then crossed the river and climbed again on the other side, and the
cottages clung to the hillsides.
They met a lot of locals as
they walked hand in hand in the sunshine and found them to be very friendly,
especially at the village pub, Philips Folly, with the exception of Paul
Steptoe, who thought he should have been given first refusal on Cliff Haven, he
left without speaking when they walked in.
It turned out that he was
just as unpopular with the villagers as he was with them.
After a pleasant lunch they
walked slowly back up the hill until they reached Church Lane.
“Let’s go up here” Molly said,
and they followed the lane that wound its way around the cottages for about 100
yards until it emerged at a plateau where St Clara’s Church stood, surrounded
by the graveyard, which was what interested her on that day.
Unlike many graveyards at
Christian Churches St Clara’s was well tended and they wandered around until
they found what they were searching for, the graves of
Molly’s parents, Charlotte and John Barrington, and her Grandmother Bella
Arnold, and this was where Sir Avery Arnold wished to be laid to rest.
When he died, after the
normal formalities and legalities were completed, there was a small private
funeral at St Savior’s Church, outside Colorado Springs, after which he was
temporarily interred in the crypt, where he would reside until arrangements
could be made for him to be repatriated to Beaumont Island.
Satisfied with what she had
seen and as they walked slowly to Cliff Haven, they discussed the reinterment
and when the best time would be and how best to achieve it.
When they got indoors Molly
quickly shed her outdoor clothes and waited impatiently until Danny had done
the same, and then took him by the hand and said
“Nap time”
“And by “nap time” you mean?”
“Not napping” she replied
with a leer as she led him to her room.
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