Abby Ch. 22

"I'll give you a call when I get back next week, if that's ok?"

"I look forward to it. Enjoy your time in London."

Abby then turned her attention to the station and house, she mentioned George Walker's visit to James, who said that as the Landowner he would like to be there. "If you don't mind, of course."

"Don't be so silly, James. Of course I don't mind. As you say, you are the Landlord and have a right to know what is being done with the property."

George had worked out his sums and quoted a figure which left James gasping. Abby didn't turn a hair, merely asking if that was an estimate or a quote. "Oh, an estimate." replied George quickly. "Based upon my inspection. I have spoken to the Heritage Officer, and she will come down with a list of requirements. It would appear though that within reason there will be no problems. Your intentions for the station have pleased English Heritage. They seem to have passed this on the nod, makes me think that someone has put the word in." He gave Abby and then James an enquiring look. Neither of them thought it politic to mention Abby's conversation with Councillor Wates. Getting no explanation he carried on. "I will need to find some details, though. How the Barge Boards were decorated and such. You mentioned someone who you thought could provide some evidence of that."

Abby nodded. "Yes, my contact, Mr. Brasher should be able to furnish all that. I do have some photos taken in the fifties, though I don't know if they will show enough detail for you."

"Anything will be helpful. But the final figure will depend on how much I have to employ specialist craftsman. They don't come cheap you know."

Abby had already made her mind up. "Your estimate is a good guide, but I wouldn't want a variation above say five percent without discussion. Is that acceptable to you?" George nodded. He had already built in an overrun, so five percent gave him plenty of latitude. Abby then made him very happy.

"Would you like stage payments?"

George was very agreeable to that. "That would be good. I'll get a programme of work out for you, and we can discuss the percentages for the various stages."

"Will you get started as soon as possible?"

"I can get men in the house within a couple of weeks. I shall see the Heritage lady next week, wouldn't want to start anything at the station until I have seen her. When we know what we are facing then I can plan accordingly."

James had something to say. "I would imagine that the work will take a month or two?"

George looked uneasily at James, hoping he wasn't going to ask for the work to be done in a hurry. "Sorry, but I doubt that we will be able to make the house habitable for at least three months. To put a water tank in the loft I shall have to take some of the roof away. We won't be able to get it through the loft access, you see, even though they are plastic these days. Wouldn't want to do that with bad weather. Then there's all the plumbing and electrical work, can't leave that to the jobbing lads. I suspect it will be well into next year before I am finished. You do want it done properly, don't you?"

Abby quickly agreed. "Yes I do, I shall just have to impose upon Mary for a little more time." James was pleased with the answer. It meant that Abby would not be moving in until the better weather next year.

George pulled out some drawings. "These are for the Victorian style conservatory. As you see my man has done two. One showing how it would look with just the side covered and the other taking the conservatory round the front." Abby looked at them keenly. She didn't take long in making the decision; she had half convinced herself already that taking the conservatory round the front was too much.

The drawings settled her mind. "Just the side, Mr. Walker."

He agreed. "Yes doing too much can often spoil the whole thing." He rolled the drawings up."

Abby had been impressed with the drawings, as they had been water-coloured, and gave an impression of garden as well. "Do you think I could have a copy of that, it's really good?" With good humour George gave her the drawing.

"That's only an impression, you know. Won't look exactly like that when it's done."

"I know, but it will be nice to have it, just to remind me of how it may look eventually."

Abby was getting worried, that she hadn't heard from Mr. Brasher, She had written to him some three weeks ago. Her worries were resolved the next day when she came down to breakfast; the letter was sitting on the table awaiting her. Eagerly she opened it.

Dear Miss Tregonney,

Please accept my apologies for not replying to you sooner, I have been to York for some days pursuing my researches.

I am most interested in your plans to restore Combe Lyney station to the condition it was in during the Great Western period. Your request for information and research was most warmly received, and I have started to gather such detail as I can. I believe that I will be able to obtain some official photographs commissioned by the GWR in the nineteen thirties. If this is possible I shall be happy to make copies available to you for the local Heritage Officer, who no doubt will have to be involved.

As this is a project so dear to my heart, I would be happy to come down to Combe Lyney. Any advice, little as it may be, I shall be delighted to share with you and your builder.

I shall write again, once the relevant information is to hand. I assume that accommodation could be found for me at the Combe Inn.

Thank you once again for inviting me to be part of this work.

Yours sincerely

Brasher

Everything she was planning seemed to be falling into place. She had no doubt that Mr. Brasher would be able to obtain the photographs, and his knowledge would be invaluable to them with information about the working practices, so that James' idea of the station becoming a heritage classroom could happen. She thought that Mr. Brasher would embrace the idea enthusiastically. Now she had to think of what she would do with all the stuff she would bring back from her flat. Her room here would certainly not accommodate anything more than some of the clothes she would have.

She asked Mary when she came to take her plate away. "Have you had enough, Abby?"

"Mary, you always ask, and I will forever give you the same answer, plenty. May I ask a favour though?"

"Of course.'

"The station house is not going to be ready for me, probably until early next year. Will it be alright to stay here until then?" Mary tutted and threw her head up to suggest that such a question was a waste of time asking.

"Oh Love, of course you can. You didn't need to ask. There's a room here whenever you need, and for as long as you need." Abby smiled her thanks, and then went on.

"I shall bring a lot of stuff back from London with me, is there anywhere I can store it until the house is ready?"

"We'll put it in the room where your dress is." Abby's Ball gown had vanished from her room the day after the Ball. She had a moment's panic, until Mary told her she had hung it back in the closet where it had been before.

"Won't you need the room?"

"No Love. We don't get many visitors this time of year, there are three other rooms, which will do for any that do come, and over the winter we don't get any. So your stuff will not be in the way."

"I shall pay you the going rate for the room then."

Mary looked horrified. "You will not." This was said so firmly that Abby knew that argument would be fruitless.

Mary cleared the plates, just leaving the pot of tea. "It will be nice to have you here over Christmas. We only open from twelve to two, and then Jack and I sit down to a Capon with all the trimmings. Mr. James will come if his mother is away. It's a really nice day. You'll enjoy it. In the evening we go down to Sam and Mavis, they have a bit of a party."

Abby thought she would enjoy the day. She had never really celebrated Christmas after her Mum had died. Christmas Day for her had been a rather lonely event, eating a packaged festive meal; toasting herself with a half-bottle of wine, and getting bored in front of the television; but mainly anticipating getting back to work the day after Boxing Day. She had one question though. "Capon? Not Turkey."

"Goodness no. Of course traditionally it should be Goose, and there's many round here that will have Goose. But Jack can't abide the fat, and I am not much of one for Turkey, too dry for me, so a nice Capon fits the bill. Not too dry, and a really good flavour."

"I don't think I have ever had Capon."

"It's just a cock bird that's been neutered. Makes it put on weight. You'll find it very tasty."

"Mary, if you're cooking it I know I shall." Mary left with the plates, saying,

"I must get on." She wore the wide smile that she usually had when Abby praised her cooking.

To be continued