Bob managed to find me, at a low cost, an unemployed Ford Cargo Box 3-tonner, usually used for transporting musical equipment to and from gigs, plus a couple of humpers to go with it (humpers are the trolls who manhandle massive amplifiers, etc. from show to show), so a professional moving company wasn't necessary.
Moving Day was set and Midge and I declined any further engagements or commissions for a whole month. We figured it would take all of that time at least to get straight, and although we weren't exactly flush with cash after all the outgoings we certainly had enough to carry is through— the gods had been very kind. Midge's posters had been accepted by the kiddies'-wear people, by the way, and under Big Val's financial terms of 2 1/4 percent interest for nonpayment two weeks after delivery date (you had to be good to get away with this) the fee was already in the bank. My session work was paid on a three-hourly basis and gratefully received at the end of each day's or half-day's work.
It was a fine morning for a change on Moving Day and we stood in our now empty apartment, the van loaded and waiting downstairs. We were suddenly wistful: we'd had good times in this place, even though we'd yearned for something more, something that would be our own. And love had deepened here.
We hugged each other and took one long, last, look around. Then we left.
With the humpers following close behind in the van, we drove down to Hampshire, the New Forest, and Gramarye.
IN
BY SIX O'CLOCK that evening the humpers, with tenners in their pockets and tired grins on their faces, were gone, leaving Midge and me alone in Gramarye.
Standing at the door, we watched the empty 3-tonner disappear around the curve in the road, and even then we lingered awhile, drawing in the slowly cooling air. I let my gaze wander over the grassy stretches and woodland opposite the cottage, wondering if the road ever became really busy, and if the quietness of it all might eventually send me slightly crazy. From Baron's Court to the wilderness in one bold leap. Daunting.
But I felt good, oh so
'I'm so happy, Mike,' she said softly. 'I can't tell you how much. Gramarye means so much to me.'
I smiled and kissed her forehead. 'Me too, Pixie. Me too. I think we made the right decision. Look, even the flowers out there have revived themselves to make us welcome.'
'It must be all the rain we've been having lately. The colors are so beautiful.'
'No need to look far for your inspiration around here.'
'I've got all I need right beside me.'
'Yuk.'
'I know, but it feels good to tell you.' Her pale eyes shone up at me. 'Things are going to work, aren't they, Mike?'
'No question. Things are gonna be terrific. God, I feel a song coming on!'
'Spare me that!'
'I can't help myself!'
I opened my mouth wide, but she dug me in the ribs. 'You'll frighten the animals.'
'Oh yeah. Forgot. Jeez, I could sleep for a week.'
'Can I get you a beer?'
'You mean Igor and Mongo didn't finish 'em off?'
'I kept them too busy shifting furniture. One half-hour for beer and sandwiches was all any of you were allowed.'
'I remember. You know what I'd really like?'
'You said you were tired.'
'Not that. Well, not right at this moment. No, I'd like some tea.'
'Can this be the same hellraiser I shared a flat with in London? Must be the pure country air. Not even coffee?'
'No. I'm in the mood for tea.'
'Simply because you're near me.'
'Funny but when you're—' I began to sing. Then, 'Just put the kettle on.'
She skipped inside, chuckling to herself.
I strolled to the front gate and heard a car approaching. It soon appeared around the bend and I watched it pass by, thinking entertainment sure was spare in this neck of the woods. The Citroen's occupants gawked back at me and I gave them a friendly wave. One of the two passengers, a girl in the back seat, smiled and then the car was gone, leaving only a faint smell of engine fumes in the air.
The show over, I sauntered back down the path, taking in the chocolate-box view of the cottage with its brooding woodland behind, the wild array of flowers enlivening the foreground. I experienced a deep flush of contentment. This new life might take some getting used to and there was still a lot of hard work ahead to make the place comfortable, but the good vibes were already weaving their spell, calming and delighting me at the same time, alerting my senses to everything that was around. I was acutely aware of Midge's presence within those irregular-shaped walls, as if she had instantly become a part of Gramarye's personality, a little of its essence. She belonged in such a setting.
I stopped dead. Hold on here, I admonished myself. Let's not get carried away. I wouldn't like to upset you, Mrs. Chaldean, but we're talking about bricks and mortar with a pleasant view, not a goddamn shrine. Shaking my head at my own cogitations, I walked on.
I came to a halt once more when I noticed the chaffinch on the doorstep. The bird's back was to me as it peered into the gloom inside with jerky stretching movements, occasionally cocking its head to one side as if listening for something. I waited, not wishing to scare it off; this was my first close encounter of the feathered kind.
Midge appeared inside the doorway and she was moving smoothly forward, cooing a gentle welcome. She knelt as she drew close and I was surprised that the chaffinch didn't hop back or fly away. It watched with bold interest.
Midge had breadcrumbs in her outstretched hand and she offered them to the bird, who eyed them with suspicion. I remained frozen, enjoying the scene. Midge placed the crumbs on the floor just inside the doorway, only inches away from the bird. The chaffinch cocked its head again and watched her, ignoring the food. Then it hopped to the very edge of the step and I felt sure it would venture inside. Not so, though; it skipped back again, gave one loud chirp that could have been a 'good-bye' and off it flew.
We both laughed as the bird swooped and glided around the garden before disappearing into the nearby woods, and I think that little episode made Midge's day.
'That's it,' I said good-humoredly as I went into the cottage. 'Now they know we're here they'll be expecting a house-warming party.'
'We'd make them welcome,' replied Midge, her face flushed with joy.
Still grinning, I crossed the room and squatted down by the wall, running my fingers across the surface there, feeling for any dampness.
'Looks like O'Malley and his crew did a good job,' I remarked. 'Did you get a chance to take a look at that crack in the wall upstairs?'
Midge was busy opening a cardboard box containing easy-fix food. 'Yes,' she answered, delving in. 'You wouldn't know it'd been there. The whole room's been painted over so there are no marks at all. You hungry yet?'
'Something light'll do.'
'Something light is all you'll get. I'll pop into the village tomorrow and stock up, but for now, pizza, burgers, or soup?'
'Uh, soup. Let's give it an hour or so, though, to get straight.'
'Okay.' She brought over the mug of tea she'd already made. 'Water's running clear, by the way.'
