by Ali McNamara
Malachi turns to look at me again. ‘Hmm, now who do you know that might have an insight into those worlds?’
I stare at him, puzzled.
‘Someone who deals with collectors of antiques and other such things in his daily business?’
I’m still none the wiser, but Malachi just waits.
‘Oh!’ I exclaim as the penny finally drops. ‘You mean Noah.’
‘Took you a while – I really didn’t want to go with the flood references again.’
‘Do you think he might know something?’
‘I think he might be able to put you in touch with someone who does – but it’s a very long shot that you’ll be able to actually trace those particular cards.’
‘Malachi, I could hug you!’
‘You’re welcome to if you want?’
‘Bit difficult in here, there’s not a lot of room. But thank you.’ I squeeze his hand instead. ‘That’s a really good suggestion.’
Malachi looks down at his hand where I’ve just touched it. ‘No, Ana, thank you.’
‘What for?’
Malachi shakes his head. ‘No matter. Now be away with you, go get some sleep, and tomorrow you can go and find Noah, while I of course will be slaving over Miss Daisy-Rose for you.’
I smile at him and open the door of the van. Then I climb out and slam it shut again, waving as he drives away down the street.
I shake my hand a little before I reach for my key. What is that – pins and needles? I wonder. My palm is tingling in a very odd way.
But by the time I’ve opened the door, gone inside and put the kettle on the tingling has gone, so for the time being I think no more about it.
The next morning, I set off early for Noah’s shop.
It’s another gorgeous day in St Felix and the sun warms my thoughts as well as my body as I walk along the narrow streets to Noah’s Ark.
Contrary to what I’d thought when I left London, I was really beginning to enjoy my stay here. The people seemed lovely and the weather for the most part was glorious, and even when it wasn’t, the rain and storms that would occasionally break up the fine weather were dramatic and enjoyable too, as long as you were inside in the warm and dry watching them through glass.
I’d phoned home a couple of times. Home being my neighbour, Helen, who I’d asked to keep an eye on my flat while I was away. Luckily Helen had a key and it wasn’t a big ask – she only had to pick up any post and tend to the few plants that would need watering while I was away – but it was good to know someone was watching over my little place, and I’d promised her lots of clotted cream, scones and jam when I returned home.
I’d also texted my mum and told her where I was staying temporarily. I don’t know why really. Mum lived in Cardiff with her new partner, so me being down here in Cornwall rather than London wasn’t really going to make that much difference to our occasional phone calls and texts.
It had saddened me when I realised how few people would actually care that I’d be here in St Felix for a few weeks rather than in London. I was a freelance designer so I didn’t have a boss to report to; all any client cared about was that my deadlines were met and that I produced quality work for them.
The only other person I’d texted had been Peter, Daisy’s husband, to tell him that I’d found the camper van and that I’d be staying here temporarily until I could drive it home.
Pete had seemed pleased I was staying and had told me yet again how much Daisy had loved it down here.
The shop is open when I arrive. I push open the door and the little bell rattles instead of rings above my head again.
Jess immediately appears from the back. Even if the bell wasn’t working properly, she seemed to know when anyone was entering the shop.
‘Hi again,’ she says, looking pleased to see me. ‘I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.’
‘I was looking for Noah actually,’ I say, as Jess’s smile broadens even further. ‘Is he in?’
‘It’s his late start today. We’re rarely busy first thing, even on a Sunday, so we take it in turns to come in early. You can probably catch him at his cottage, though, if it’s urgent?’ Jess looks intrigued as she waits for my answer.
‘Oh no, it’s nothing urgent. I don’t want to disturb him at home. It can wait.’ I smile at her and turn as if to leave.
‘A message then?’ Jess pipes up behind me, so I turn back again. ‘I could give him a message when he comes in?’
‘No, really, it’s fine, Jess, I’ll pop back another day.’
Jess looks desperately at her watch. ‘He usually walks Clarice about now,’ she suggests hurriedly, ‘you might find him on the cliff path above Porthhaven beach?’
I smile at her. ‘All right, I’ll bite. Which one is Porthhaven? I get confused – there are so many little beaches here.’
Jess grins, knowing she’s reeled me back in. ‘That’s what comes of living on a peninsula. I was the same when I first moved here too – it’s so confusing! Porthhaven is the one they let dogs on in the summer. All the others ban them – mean bastards, I say. Why shouldn’t the doggies have their fun too? But it’s the families, isn’t it? They think we’re not going to pick up the doggie doo-doos.’
I grin.
Jess shakes her head as though she’s ashamed of herself. ‘That’s flippin’ Noah’s influence for you – doggie doo-doos! I’d just call it dog shit.’
‘Well, I guess it’s a little politer. Anyway, Clarice can’t have much doggie doo-doo, can she – she’s tiny.’
‘You’d be surprised.’ Jess rolls her eyes. ‘When I signed up to work in an antiques shop I didn’t sign up to being a dog walker too! But then I guess Noah didn’t really sign up to taking on a small dog either when he agreed to take on the shop.’
‘Oh?’ Now I’m the one who’s intrigued.
‘Yeah,’ Jess continues keenly. She seems to revel in discussing Noah with me. ‘It was his aunt’s shop before and Noah only took it on a few years ago, but with the shop came Clarice – it was part of the deal – so he’s kind of stuck with her now. Not that I think he minds, though – he dotes on that thing when no one’s looking. Real softie, he is, our Noah.’
I nod. ‘So he changed the name then, when he took the shop on?’
‘Oh no, the shop was called that before, his aunt Harriet doted on Noah too. Never had any kids of her own, so she spoilt her only nephew when she could. I think she thought if she called the shop after him, Noah would feel obliged to keep visiting her when he grew into an adult and then one day take over the running of it, and she was right.’
‘That makes a lot of sense. I didn’t think a man would call a dog Clarice.’
I’m surprised actually just how much I have thought about Noah since I met him.
‘Nah, it’s after Clarice Cliff, ain’t it – the famous ceramic designer?’
‘Yes, I’ve heard of her.’
‘Good. Not everyone has.’
‘I studied art at college. Well, graphics, but we covered different designers in my foundation year.’
Jess nods her approval. ‘So, are you going to go and find him? Noah, I mean. I’m sure he’d be pleased to see you.’ She looks so eager that I hardly dare say no. ‘If you’re not going to go,’ she adds, the disappointment clear in her voice, ‘you can leave a message with me and I’ll be sure to pass it on.’
‘Okay,’ I say, giving in. ‘I’ll head over to the beach and see if I can find him and Clarice.’
Jess claps her hands in glee. Subtlety was obviously not one of her strong points.
‘If I don’t find him, though, could you pass a message on?’
‘Of course! Anything.’
‘Just tell him I need his advice about something.’
‘Ooh, really?’ Jess rubs her hands together now.
‘I’d love to tell you it’s something exciting, Jess, but it really isn’t.’
‘Ana, anything that doesn’t involve holiday-makers, fishing boats or
tide times is exciting around here.’
I smile again. ‘Let me find Noah first, and perhaps he’ll tell you about it later, then you can judge for yourself whether it’s exciting or not.’
Like Jess had said, St Felix sits on its own tiny peninsula that juts out into the Atlantic so it has several sandy beaches, the most northerly of which is favoured by surfers because of the huge waves that often crash dramatically on its shore. There is a tiny beach by the harbour, which can only be viewed at low tide, and another long stretch of sand popular with families runs below the coastal path I walked along a couple of days ago. But the beach I’m heading to now, Porthhaven, is as Jess had rightly pointed out the only one that dogs are allowed on in high season.
From my viewpoint high up above the beach I look down on to the sand.
There are a few dogs running around, chasing balls and splashing about in the waves, but I can’t see Clarice amongst them, neither can I see Noah in amongst the small group of dog owners that are gathered down there having a chat.
I watch the dogs for a few moments, and I’m about to turn and head towards the street where Jess has kindly informed me Noah has a small cottage when I hear a friendly ‘Hello’ behind me.
I jump.
‘Whoa, you don’t want to be jumping like that all the way up here,’ Noah says. ‘It’s a long way down.’ He tugs on Clarice’s lead to pull her away from what she’s currently sniffing.
‘You surprised me, that’s all.’
‘Sorry. You looked like you were enjoying watching the dogs having fun down there?’
‘Yes, I was, but I was looking for you actually.’
Now it’s Noah’s turn to look surprised.
‘Jess told me I might find you here,’ I explain. ‘I wondered if you might be able to help me.’
Clarice is obviously keen to get going again, and she pulls on her red lead.
‘We can walk and talk if you like?’ I suggest.
‘We haven’t got much more walking to do,’ Noah says. ‘She’s already had a run around on the beach and whatever she thinks’ – he looks purposely at Clarice – ‘she only has little legs! What about if we walk up to that bench next to the coast-guard lookout and take a seat for a bit?’
‘Sure, sounds good.’
After we’ve climbed even higher up the hill we seat ourselves on a small wooden bench that looks out over much of St Felix and the surrounding sea. While I tell Noah exactly what Malachi and I had discovered in the camper van, Clarice takes a nap on the grass in the warm sunshine.
‘Very interesting,’ Noah says, when I’ve finished. ‘So how can I help?
‘I hoped you might be able to help me trace the rest of the postcards. If I can find the missing cards, I’m sure I can trace Lou and return them all to her or even to her family if she’s not around any more.’
‘Yes, sadly there is that possibility,’ Noah says, thinking. ‘From what you say she must be what – seventy, eighty years old?’
‘I think a little older according to some of the dates on the postcards and what she was doing at that time. Malachi thinks I’m mad trying to find her – he thinks we should just leave it alone – but there’s so much love in those cards from Lou to Frankie and she wrote to him for so long, the postcards must be very special to her, like Frankie was.’
‘Malachi – that’s the guy you were with in the pub the other night?’
‘Yes, that’s right. He’s the mechanic who’s helping me to do up Daisy – I mean, Daisy-Rose. That’s what we’re calling the van now we’ve discovered Rose was her original name. Daisy was what I wanted to call her – it’s a long story,’ I add.
‘I see,’ Noah says thoughtfully. ‘And this Malachi doesn’t think you’ll be able to find Lou?’
‘He’s doubtful. So, do you think you might be able to help me? I know it’s a long shot, but I thought with you being in the trade and everything, you might have more of an idea of where I should start looking?’
Noah continues to gaze out into the distance. He appears to be thinking about something.
‘I – I can’t pay you or anything,’ I continue, wondering if it might be better to let him think. ‘I mean if I don’t find Lou I guess you can have the postcards to sell. They might be worth something?’
Noah turns towards me. ‘Don’t be silly, I don’t want to be paid, and anyway I doubt the postcards are worth all that much. Their sentimental value is high, but that’s about it.’
‘Oh…’ My head droops forward.
‘You’re just lucky I’m a bit of a romantic at heart,’ Noah adds quickly, before it can droop any further.
‘You will help then?’ I ask keenly, looking at him again.
‘Yes, I’ll help you.’
I feel like clapping my hands in glee like Jess had. But I restrain myself and instead say, ‘That’s wonderful, Noah, thank you so much. So where do you think we should start looking first?’
Thirteen
We walk with a now refreshed Clarice back to Noah’s shop.
‘Jess told me you inherited Clarice and the shop from your aunt,’ I tell him, as we stand back to allow a car to pass us on the narrow street.
‘Yes, that’s right. I didn’t mind the shop part too much – I was at a stage in my life where I needed a bit of a new start, and an old antiques shop that already had my name seemed as good a place to begin again as anywhere.’
I wonder why he’d needed a fresh start, but I don’t ask. It wasn’t really my business, was it?
‘But taking on this little madam,’ he says, putting Clarice back down on the ground now the car has safely passed, ‘well, that was a whole different ball game. I’d never had a dog before and when I’d imagined owning one, I’d always thought it would be a big dog. Clarice, you may be many things, but you’re no Great Dane!’
Clarice turns her head and gives Noah an indifferent look.
‘My friend had a big dog. He’s lovely but he’s a handful.’
‘Oh yes, you said – a Burmese Mountain dog, wasn’t it?’
‘Good memory! Yes, it was, well, is – he’s still about.’
‘But sadly your friend isn’t.’
‘No.’ I’d almost forgotten how much I’d told Noah about Daisy the first time I met him up on the cliff.
‘Again, I’m sorry. I know how hard that can be.’
‘Yes, it’s still a little raw.’
That was an understatement.
‘I bet it’s a lot more than that,’ Noah says perceptively. ‘She was obviously a very good friend for you to travel all the way down here and then stay while you have an old camper van done up in her name.’
‘How did you know all that? I didn’t tell you.’
‘You told me enough just now for me to put two and two together along with what you’d mentioned before.’
‘You sound like Malachi.’
‘The mechanic?’
‘Yeah, he’s like you – perceptive.’
‘I’ll have to meet this Malachi one day. I can’t say I know of him?’
‘I don’t think he’s been in St Felix that long. He’s only here temporarily to look after the garage.’
We’ve reached the shop. Noah opens the door, and while the little bell rattles above he holds the door open for me to go through.
‘Damn thing,’ he says, looking up at the bell. ‘I’ve tried fixing it, but to no avail. I’ll have to get a new one sometime.’
There are few people browsing inside the shop and Jess is behind the counter.
‘Ah, you found him then,’ she says, looking pleased.
‘She surely did.’ Noah leads Clarice through the shop towards the back room. ‘I’ll just get Clarice settled and then we can talk some more, okay? She’ll conk out once she’s been fed and watered after her long walk this morning.’
‘Sure, that’s fine.’
‘So…’ Jess asks, as soon as Noah has left the room. ‘What’s all this about then?’
I hav
e to admire Jess’s honesty. Most people would have been a little more discreet with their enquiries.
‘I told you before,’ I say, pretending to string her along a little, ‘I need Noah’s help.’
‘Yes, but with what? Come on, I’m dying here. Nothing exciting ever happens in this shop. A pretty woman coming in here wanting help from Noah to me is akin to a particularly thrilling episode of my favourite soap – don’t leave me with the doof doof moment, Ana!’