Under Two Shires Oak – Episode 13
Under Two Shires Oak
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- 1. Under Two Shires Oak – Episode 13
THAT was how it started – Evie doing a few invoices. But soon she was looking at maps and sorting out better routes for Alan to take.
“If you were to go this way, you’d do it on quarter of the fuel.”
And bringing in suggestions for new business . . .
“Dennis Dalton says they’re building new houses on that land back of his, starting in the New Year. They’re going to need things collected and delivered.”
What she enjoyed most on her time off, though it was to the amusement of passers-by, was messing about in the yard where Alan kept his lorry.
“It’s not that much different from a tractor,” she told him. She was wearing two coats, both with collars upturned against the winter cold, as she topped up oil and checked tyres and handed him spanners as he delved into the engine.
The reason she liked doing this sort of work best, she suspected, was because she did it with Alan. The business paperwork was a very solitary affair.
But increasingly she looked forward to that, too, since it showed how the business was prospering. Without wanting to be patting herself on the back, she felt she’d contributed to its success, and that gave her real satisfaction.
“Knows how to treat a girl, doesn’t he?” Dennis Dalton’s teenage daughter sniggered one day.
Evie looked at the girl, puzzled.
“Alan. I mean, now the business has taken off, doesn’t he ever take you to the dance in the village, or the picture-house in town? They’re showing one of those ‘Road To’ films. You know, with Bing Crosby and Bob Hope.”
It was on the tip of Evie’s tongue to agree that, yes, the business was doing well, but there was still a long way to go for their future.
Thankfully, she stopped in time. How stupid would that have sounded?
Alan had come to mean a great deal to her. She was honest with herself, and the sight of his lumbering figure set her heart pounding. And they had, actually, been to the village dance a couple of times, round Christmas, and in his arms she’d felt like a melting snowball.
But what about him? How did he feel? Yes, they spent a lot of time together. But often it was just in the yard with the lorry.
“Like I’m a mechanic’s mate!” she thought wryly. And that was all right.
But did she also set his heart aflutter?
“Does he just see me as a dependable friend?” she was musing to herself one evening in the caravan when she heard the lorry outside.
It had been the first day that had been truly spring-like. She had left the door open and now Alan came bounding in.
“I’ve got another lorry!” he greeted her jubilantly. “That’ll be two on the road! It was cheap because it needs work on it. But come on!”
He ushered her towards the original lorry, obviously to take her to see the new acquisition. She was pleased for him, and oddly touched by his excitement.
But her worries returned. Didn’t this support the “dependable pal” theory? Isn’t that what you would do? Go round and get your mate to come and have a look and give their opinion?
Alan was quiet as they drove along, and lost in her own thoughts she wasn’t paying much attention to what direction they had taken. So she was surprised when they pulled up outside a restaurant that had opened nearby. Very posh, someone had told her.
“So, where’s the lorry?” she asked as they got out, wondering why they had come to this place.
“You’ll have to see it later, because I’ve booked us a table here,” Alan replied. “Why not? It’s a big night.”
She was momentarily surprised into silence.
But it was true, it was a big night. He’d now need an employee to drive the second lorry. He’d be like a proper company.
She wished he’d said where they were going, though.
“I would have put something good on. Or at least something better,” she added ruefully, thinking about the contents of her wardrobe.
“You look fine to me as you are,” Alan said as they followed a formally dressed waiter to a candle-lit table.
“Always do,” he continued when they sat down. “It always sets my heart a-leaping when I see you, Evie.”
From his pocket, he produced a little box.
“It’s an engagement ring,” he said, “that I hope you’ll accept. I’ve loved you, I think, from that first time I saw you, lass, but I wanted to be able to offer you the good life you deserve before I said anything. And now I feel I soon will be able to.”
Wordless again, Evie looked at him.
“Mrs Nightingale,” she said, stunned. “I’m going to be Mrs Alan Nightingale!”
Then she laughed, remembering her ambitions to follow in Florence Nightingale’s footsteps. Now she had something different. Reaching out, she let Alan put the ring on her finger. It was beautiful. She doubted if even Francesca, in London, with all her family’s wealth, had anything finer.