Free November-Charlie by Clare Revell Page A

road branched into three. “Village that way,” she read. “That figures, up the hill. At least it’s only three-quarters of a mile. Come on, Deefer, let’s go.”
    The road was cobbled and a lot steeper than it looked. Low-roofed cottages lined the road, with climbing roses or ivy trailing up the sides. Some of them were thatched. Masses of snapdragons and roses, hollyhocks and lupines filled the gardens. Washing hung in some of the gardens and the occasional cat sunned itself on garden walls.
    Both Lou and Deefer were quite puffed when they reached the village. Turning round, Lou noticed a sign proclaiming the hill as a one-in-three. For every one foot across you climbed up three.
    The village bustled with activity and was set out in typical fashion, with the church, general store, and pub in the center and houses around the edge. A village green was off to one side. Flags hung from some of the houses and banners festooned the green.
    Signs proclaimed a village fete and art fair at the weekend and the locals were busy preparing for it. The smell of baking cakes and bread flowing from almost every kitchen made Lou hungry. She crossed over to the shop and tied Deefer up outside. “Back in a bit,” she told him.
    Deefer settled down, content in the sun and pleased that the ground no longer moved beneath his feet.
    The bell tinkled as she entered the general store announcing her presence to the storekeeper. Lou stood in amazement. She hadn’t realized that shops like this still existed. All the goods except cards, paper and newspaper were behind the counter.
    The storekeeper came out from the back room. Grey hair in a bun and an apron over a long skirt, she looked like someone straight from the pages of a history book. “Sorry to keep you,” she said, in a broad Cornish accent. “How can I help you?”
    “I need a few things,” Lou said. “I have a list.”
    Lou gave her the shopping list and went to look at the postcards. She picked out a couple and then caught sight of the newspapers. She picked up one of the papers and took it across to the counter. “Is there a chemist here?” she asked.
    “Aye, three doors down. Do you want to come back for this in a bit?”
    “If that’s all right?”
    “No problem. It’ll take me thirty minutes to sort and pack it for you. I’ll keep it out back until you come back.”
    “Thank you.”
    Deefer was asleep in the sunshine so she went to the chemist on her own. She bought travel pills, just in case, and stocked up on aspirin and pain reliever. Having done that, she explored the village a bit more. She found a bank with an ATM. She pulled out Jim’s card and withdrew some money. It was only as she put the card and money in her purse the thought struck her. Jim’s bank statement would go to her place. If her mother opened it, she’d just sent a ‘we were here’ message. Oh well, they wouldn’t be here for long.
    She went back to the general store.
    Deefer still dozed.
    On the village green the marquee was half up. Opposite, two men on a ladder strung bunting across some of the houses. As she entered, the bell tinkled again and the storekeeper looked up from her knitting.
    “Hello dear,” she said. “You picked up one of yesterday’s papers, so I swapped it for one of today’s. I assume that’s what you wanted.”
    “Please,” Lou said. She glanced at the headlines and to her horror saw photos of Jim and Staci on the front page staring back at her. She tried to keep her feelings of shock and terror to herself, but her face must have betrayed her.
    “Awful story that,” said the storekeeper. “All over the television and radio, too. Three of them, just upped and left. What that poor mother is going through is anyone’s guess. No respect for their elders today, that’s the problem. That’ll be thirty five pounds, please.”
    Lou paid for the shopping and took the eight bags, four in each hand. She’d only just got over to where the dog was still asleep,