Sunday, 8 September 2024

The Islands in the Bay – Chapter (064) A Coming Together


On the first Wednesday in March, Daryn Goldsmith was in Spaniards Creek to perform his first inspection on the Spanish River site.

He was a stonemason by trade but doubled up as the Islands Building inspector, which was scarcely even a part time occupation.

He was forty-eight years old and was widowed, and was living in Purplemere at the time, and immediately after his wife’s death he seemed to suddenly appear on the radar of the local spinster’s, widows and divorcees in and around his own age.

It all began at his wife’s funeral where he was buttonholed by two well-presented mourners who made it perfectly clear he could avail himself of them if he so chose to do.

Many months after his dear wife was laid to rest, after repeatedly rebuffing the endless advances of even the most attractive of his pursuers he decided to transfer to Pipershaven.

Part of his duties at the council was to perform any and all building inspections on the Pepperstock Bay Islands.

In the two years following his bereavement he had managed to avoid dating even if he was sometimes lonely and he would probably have continued avoiding it but for a providential coming together.

 

He travelled to Beaumont Island on a damp miserable Wednesday morning and his first stop was Stephenson’s Supermarket on the outskirts of St Pierre to pick up something for lunch.

He was just about to leave the car park when another car reversed into him, and they had a minor fender bender.

Daryn and the other driver got out of their cars, and they both looked at the damage before looking at each other. 

“Oh God I’m so sorry” she said

“No harm done” he said

“I’ll pay for the damage”

“There isn’t any, just a few scuffs” he said and then looked at the other driver for the first time.

She was a very tall striking woman, with long ginger hair, and a smiling freckled face.

“Well, we’d better exchange details anyway just in case” She said and handed him her business card, Debbie Wilson, Roman Water Farm.

“Ok, Debbie Wilson, Roman Water Farm, but I don’t think there’s any need” he replied and handed her his own details 

“Well sorry again, Daryn” she said, and he watched as she got back into her car and drove away. 

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