Finding Home

rather than his hands.’ Bea turned to Mim. ‘He’s an inventor,’ she explained, flashing a smile. ‘In case you were getting the wrong idea.’
Mim could only stare in fascination as Bea leaned against Bill for a moment and they shared a private smile. Even in the lowering light of a late-December night, the bond of affection between them shone brightly and their warmth seemed to spill over and touch Mim. She didn’t want to lose it yet.
‘Is there anything I can do?’ she asked. ‘There must be some local breakdown companies. Or do you have family who could pick you up?’
‘Well, there’s the rub,’ Bill said, running his finger along his moustache. ‘We’re not from round here. We live in Devon and we need to be back there tonight, one way or another.’
‘It’s essential that we get back. My niece is getting married tomorrow and Bill is giving her away. We can’t let the family down,’ Bea said. Her voice cracked. ‘We’ve left Lia in charge at Vennhallow. All the relatives are descending and I dread to think what chaos she’s creating, even with Corin to supervise. It’s imperative that we make it home. We’ll have to ring Corin,’ she said to Bill, rummaging in her bag for her phone. ‘He’ll know what to do.’
She dialled and for a minute Mim heard only one half of the conversation.
‘We’re still in the north, darling… No, he’s fine, but the car has broken down… I know, but we diverted to collect the engine this morning and you know what he’s like when he meets a fellow enthusiast… He couldn’t resist looking at the whole railway… I’ll put you on loud speaker…’
‘… a nightmare, like the circus has moved in.’ The reception was crackly, but the words were clear enough as they were flung out of the phone. The voice was male, posh, and sounded grumpy to Mim. ‘How much longer will you be?’
‘That’s the problem,’ Bill said, leaning towards the phone. ‘We’ve no way of getting back.’
‘Haven’t you tried a breakdown service?’ Corin asked.
‘No one will take us down to Devon, not when it’s New Year’s Eve tomorrow and there’s a forecast of snow up here,’ Bill replied. ‘The best they would do was drive us to the railway station.’
‘That will do, won’t it? There must be trains down to Exeter.’
‘The west coast line is closed for maintenance until January,’ Bea said. She sagged against Mim’s car, looking older and suddenly vulnerable. Mim felt a flash of annoyance with this Corin person. Would it kill him to show more sympathy? ‘I can’t see how we can make it back for tomorrow.’
‘I’ll have to come and pick you up.’ It sounded like a grudging offer. ‘Can you send me details of where you are?’
‘You can’t do that, son. It will be five hours each way,’ Bill said. ‘You’ll be shattered.’
‘I’ll have ten hours of peace. Ten hours without being asked when it will be my turn. Shattered is a small price to pay.’
Mim had heard enough. The solution was obvious, wasn’t it?
‘I’ll drive you home,’ she said.
Why not? It wasn’t as if she had anything else to do; it was a hopeless time to be looking for a new job and she could make this journey and be back ready to start the job search again in January. Besides, it would be an adventure. She’d never been to Devon; it was one of those mythical places down south she sometimes saw on the telly and struggled to believe was on the same island where she lived. Perhaps she’d even see the sea at last. And even if she didn’t, she wanted to help. She felt drawn to these people, despite knowing nothing about them. Bea’s worry about letting her family down had touched a nerve with Mim; it wasn’t going to happen if she could do anything to prevent it. She might not have much in this world, but it cost nothing to be kind – something the posh man on the phone would do well to remember. And look at Bea now – she was rejuvenated. It had been an impulsive offer, but Mim didn’t regret it one bit.
She opened the boot to try to make room for two suitcases. The boot was a mess, stuffed with bin bags and supermarket bags-for-life that were, quite literally, holding Mim’s entire life. Her swimming costume and towel were draped over the top of everything else, in the vague hope that they might dry out before she used them again tomorrow. Well, she didn’t need to worry about that now. It was unlikely she’d make it back to Burnley in time for the free swim at the leisure centre tomorrow morning. She swept everything over to one side of the boot, just as Bill and Bea wheeled over two expensive looking cases.
‘Gracious, have you been having a clear out?’ Bea asked, as Bill hoisted the first suitcase into the boot. He dislodged a towel that Mim had used to strategically conceal the bag containing her toiletries. Mim tugged it back in place quickly, hoping that Bea hadn’t seen the toothbrush and deodorant poking out of the top. Perhaps she hadn’t reacted quickly enough. When she glanced at Bea, there was a strange expression on her face – part surprise, part curiosity.
‘We simply can’t start this road trip without proper introductions,’ Bea said. She held out her hand to Mim. ‘Beatrice Howard. After the Shakespearean heroine, of course. Call me Bea. And this is Bill. A William! Isn’t that perfect?’
Mim shook the hand that Bea offered.
‘Miranda Brown,’ she said, and immediately wondered why she had said that. No one had called her by her full name for years. Perhaps it was Bea’s accent; at least she hadn’t done anything really stupid like curtsey. ‘Usually Mim,’ she added, but her words were lost as Bea crushed her in a hug.
‘Miranda!’ Bea exclaimed, calling over Mim’s shoulder to Bill. ‘Did you hear that? She’s one of