Ninepins Read Free

them were crumbling badly at the edges; one more winter’s frosts and Laura would need to have them done again. On top of the dyke, they paused a moment while Vince and Willow gazed down at the thick dark water, which turned slow circles as it passed, or across to the bank opposite, of a height with the one on which Ninepins stood, and beyond, to the flat, black, hedgeless fields.
    â€˜It seems pretty full,’ was Vince’s comment.
    She nodded. ‘It’s rained quite a bit this week.’ After all, it was October: in most years, the level in the lode was higher than the surrounding land from September to May.
    â€˜How deep is it?’ Willow wanted to know.
    â€˜Oh, goodness – I don’t really know. Seven, eight feet, perhaps, at the moment.’
    â€˜So, deep enough to swim?’
    â€˜In theory, I suppose so, yes. But I don’t really imagine anyone would want to go in there, do you?’
    Even in summer, Elswell Lode was hardly an attractive spot for bathing. Or a safe one, come to that.
    â€˜Not in October they blooming well wouldn’t,’ said Vince. ‘I’m freezing my monkeys off just standing here. It’s not the most sheltered spot in the world. Didn’t you say something about going inside and looking at a contract?’
    â€˜Yes, of course. Sorry. Come on in.’ Laura dug the key from her bag and opened the front door, showing them into the kitchen.
    â€˜Nice.’ Vince ran his eye over the Rayburn and the oak-topped units with evident appreciation. Did he cook, she found herself wondering? ‘Willow, I’m going to have to buy you a recipe book.’
    â€˜Oh, you’d be welcome to borrow mine,’ Laura told the girl, indicating the bookshelf. But it did seem an odd thing for him to say; perhaps he actually was a relative, as well as being from the council.
    Moving over to the shelf, he scanned the row of spines. ‘Thai,’ he said, ‘and Flavours of Morocco . Not sure these are quite the place to begin.’
    â€˜There’s an old Marguerite Patten somewhere, too. And Nigel Slater’s nice and simple.’
    She had found the file, now, in the drawer.
    â€˜Here’s a copy of the tenancy,’ she said, taking it out and handing it to Willow. ‘It’s very much a standard agreement, but you’ll want to take it away and have a read.’
    â€˜Thanks.’ The girl gave it barely a glance before passing it to Vince.
    â€˜And then I’m sure you’d like some time to think about it. I dare say you have other places to view.’
    She made to show them to the door, but Vince smiled and stood his ground. ‘Perhaps we can have a bit more of a chat first?’
    â€˜Er, yes, of course. Why don’t you both sit down?’ They might have more questions; Willow had scarcely asked anything yet. ‘Perhaps you’d like a cup of tea?’
    They both accepted this offer, with graceful thanks from Vince and a nod from Willow. As she put on the kettle and reached down the mugs she thought of what else she ought to say.
    â€˜The rent’s inclusive of electricity, like I said, and water and council tax, too. There’s a separate phone line to the pumphouse, so you can plug in your own phone if you want, so then obviously you’d have the bills to pay for that. And there’s broadband, for the internet.’
    â€˜Â â€™S’OK,’ said Willow. ‘I’ve got a mobile. And I don’t have a computer.’
    It was difficult to imagine a teenager not on the Web; Beth would chat all night on Facebook if she were allowed. But – of course – how would a client of Housing Aid afford a fancy laptop? Laura felt herself colouring and was glad to be facing the worktop, squeezing teabags with a spoon.
    â€˜I’ve always let to students, before. Postgraduates, usually. So of course they need their laptops and internet access for work. I had