Tony Littlejohns - The Hoffmann Plague

He left them in the porch for Jane to prepare when she got back. He’d never done it before and didn’t want to make a hash of it, so decided to let her show him how later. He finished his coffee and went into the conservatory to check on the seawater evaporation. All the water was gone and there was a layer of salt crystals around the dish’s edge. He licked his finger, wiped it around the rim and tasted it. It had a pleasant flavour, just like the sea salt he had used in his cooking for years, and he smiled.

It was still less than the two hours they’d agreed, but he thought he might as well leave now. He got the Land Rover out of the garage, put some water containers in the back, closed the garage and drove off. Jane saw him approaching along West Parade and went down to the entrance on Sackville Road to let him in. He parked the truck behind the Toyota then went up with her. She had most things ready so they carried them down to the trucks. Jane’s leg was still rather painful so Jamie did most of the work, but she insisted on helping.

When the majority was loaded, he went up to the roof with the large water containers, while Jane carried on packing the smaller items. He filled them with the funnel from her many buckets, tubs and bowls, then carried them down to the trucks. He went back up for the containers that had lids but left the few remaining ones that were open. Before going down for the last time he leaned on the parapet and looked out, east and west. It was a fine view and he could see for at least ten miles; east towards Hastings and west towards Eastbourne and Beachy Head beyond.

When all the water was loaded he went up to Jane’s apartment to help with the last few things. He found her sitting on the sofa crying her eyes out, clutching a framed photograph to her chest. He sat down, putting his arms around her, and she leaned into him and sobbed, her chest heaving. After a while she wiped her eyes on her sleeve and showed him the photo; it was of Jane, her mother and two sisters, standing smiling in front of the De La Warr Pavilion. They all looked so alike.

‘This was taken last summer,’ she said, breathing hard. ‘Mum and Debs and Kate came to visit for the day. We had a lovely lunch there and then strolled arm-in-arm along the seafront for a few hours, chatting and catching up on stuff. It was a perfect day, and that was the last time we were all together.’

‘I’m so sorry, Jane.’ He didn’t know what else to say to console her.

‘Were you close to your family?’ She asked.

‘Yes. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of them. I miss my mum terribly. Sometime last week, I think it was, I was up on Galley Hill and remembered my brother and I sitting on that spot eating fish and chips a year ago. I broke down and, just for a second, I thought of throwing myself off the cliff; I felt so alone and hopeless.’

‘Aw! Well, I’m so glad you didn’t, because then we wouldn’t have met.’ She smiled at him and gave him a hug. ‘And,’ she added after a second, with a cheeky grin, ‘if you had done that I really would have been up Shit Creek without a paddle yesterday!’ They both laughed.

‘Right,’ he said, ‘let’s get these last few bits downstairs and go home.’

‘Okay.’

They carried the remaining things down to the trucks then drove home together and unloaded everything into the two houses. All of Jane’s clothing, bedding and personal possessions were taken next door and left in the lounge for her to sort through. The food, water and supplies they carried into the bungalow. They decided it would be best for now if they put all the food together in his spare bedroom. They planned to make an inventory of everything they had, so kept similar foods together. All the water was poured into the new water-butt outside.

They decided it was time for a well-deserved cup of coffee, and while it was brewing Jamie showed her the new sawn-off shotgun and the pigeons he’d shot earlier.

‘Excellent,’ she said. ‘We can make a pigeon casserole tonight, with some tinned tomatoes.’

‘And we can add some rosemary, bay leaves and chives to it as well, now we know they’re in the garden,’ he added.

‘Jamie, would you mind if I stayed here for another day or two before I move in properly next door? I want the bedroom at the back for the sea view, but it still smells of death in there. I’ve opened all the windows upstairs and want to let it air for a few days before moving my stuff in.’

‘Of course you can; no problem.’

‘That’s great, thanks.’

She looked out the kitchen window; the sun was getting low in the sky as evening drew on. ‘I think I’ll go down to the sea for a wash while there’s still some warmth in the air. I know I’ve got used to not washing for days, but after the events of the last two I feel the need to get clean.’

‘Good idea; I think I’ll join you.’ He realised what he’d said and blushed. ‘I didn’t actually mean join you… I meant I’ll do the same and go down after you.’ She laughed.

‘Here, take this; it lathers in salt water.’ He passed her the bottle of travel wash and a cup of coffee then took his cup outside to hide his embarrassment.

‘Thanks,’ she replied. She gave him a minute and then followed him out. He was looking at the wall between their gardens.

‘I was thinking after you left earlier; what about knocking an entrance through the wall, near the house? It would make coming-and-going much easier and be handy for when we’re working together on the gardens, for wheelbarrows and stuff.’

‘I think that’s a great idea. I don’t like the thought of us having to knock on each other’s front door every day, like polite neighbours do!’

‘Great. I’ll get onto that tomorrow, I think. It won’t be difficult. And if we need to, for whatever reason, I can always build a gate to go in there.’

Jane finished her coffee and then went next door to get some fresh clothes. She was back in a few minutes with a small bag of clothing and went into her bedroom. She came out in her bath robe and a pair of sandals, took the travel wash and a towel and headed off down the garden.

Jamie found a marker pen and walked across the patio to the wall. He shinnied up it and looked over, making sure that where he was going to mark an entrance was across both patios, then drew two lines down the wall, just under a metre apart. He reckoned that with the angle-grinder and a hammer and bolster it wouldn’t be a difficult job.

Jane was back in less than fifteen minutes, puffing out her cheeks and shivering, and with a concerned look on her face. ‘Jamie, there’s an injured dog lying on the beach! I didn’t see it at first, but when I came out of the sea I saw two seagulls pecking at something and then jumping back because it moved. I went over to look and it’s a black Labrador; it looks half-dead.’

‘Oh, bloody hell! I’ll go and have a look.’ Jane rushed off to put on some clothes and he took the revolver out of the dresser drawer, intending to put it out of its misery. He walked down the garden and through the gate, then down the steps to the promenade. He could see the dog about twenty yards away; three seagulls were pecking at it, so he shouted and they flew off. Jane caught up with him and they went across the beach and knelt down beside it. It was rather thin and its coat was matted and dirty. It wasn’t moving, but they could see a weak rise and fall of its chest. There were nasty wounds on its hindquarters; herring gulls have big, strong beaks.

‘Poor thing!’ said Jamie, and lifted the gun to end its suffering. It had a collar and tag with an engraved mobile phone number. Jane turned the disc round and read out loud ‘ Max .’ On hearing its name, the dog’s ears pricked up; it opened its eyes weakly and whimpered.