Page 69 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure
Jake lifted the top off a box and peered in. Removing a layer of newspaper, he winced when he caught sight of a line of pint-sized objects. ‘What do you want me to do with them?’ he asked, staring atmismatched outfits, bright red hats with oversized pom-poms, and clashing plaid shirts. Their rosy cheeks and glaring eyes looked scary, and Jake stepped back.
‘Check ’em over for chips and cracks, and maybe perk one or two up with a touch of paint.’
Jake wasn’t sure he wanted to fiddle about with the multiple stripy trousers and curled-up shoes that tinkled with bells. Still, he’d give the bushy beards a quick coat of white gloss and hope for the best.
As Jake got to work, Arthur reached for the laptop and began scrolling through Atticus’s Instagram posts. ‘What do these signs on his pictures mean?’ he asked as he scowled at the array of symbols followed by names.
‘Grandad is tagging places that he visits,’ Jake said. He reached for a paintbrush and set to work on a faded beard surrounding an upturned nose.
‘Eh?’ Arthur looked puzzled. ‘What’s the point of that?’ He stared at @alicante_city.
‘If the place gets lots of hits, Grandad might get paid.’
‘But he doesn’t need any money?’
‘He’s probably doing it to bring business to the places he’s visiting.’
‘Decent of him,’ Arthur agreed.
‘Uncle Arthur,’ – Jake paused in his painting – ‘do you think Grandad has a girlfriend?’
‘Yes, lad, of course he has,’ Arthur nodded. ‘You can see her in some of the photos.’ Arthur thought of a recent call with Atticus, where he’d called his friend a dark horse and a lucky devil. ‘Her name is Britta, and she’s Dutch.’
‘Dad says she’s after Grandad’s money; I overheard himbanging on to mum about it.’ Jake finished the gnome’s beard and went on to the next.
‘You mustn’t listen to other people’s conversations, and if you have any questions, think about asking your grandad. He’ll always give you a straight answer.’
‘Alright. I suppose itwouldbe okay to have a new grandma though.’
Arthur stared at the images of Britta and thought that his mate was currently the luckiest man in Spain. Life on the Costas was sunny and bright, unlike the damp, dark days and persistent Cumbrian chill that seeped into Arthur’s bones and made him feel every day of his increasing years.
Turning to Jake, he asked, ‘How are you getting on with Mistletoe Mike?’
‘He’s finished. I’m on Holly Harry, then Tinsel Tina and Jingle Julie…’
Arthur looked puzzled. ‘I don’t remember Tinsel Tina and Jingle Julie having beards?’
Jake smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. ‘They have now,’ he replied.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
In what now seemed like the autumn of his life, Atticus felt an unexpected happiness, heightened by Britta. Their blossoming love was enhanced by journeys to new places, where together they felt the same wonder and excitement as they discovered the charm of Spain and the joy of companionship.
After several meetings, their relationship intensified.
‘Would you like to stay tonight?’ Britta asked one night after a long walk on the beach, her voice a whisper as her soft lips brushed his ear. As though a spell had been cast, Atticus nodded.There was nowhere that he would rather be.
Allowing himself to be guided by her lead, Britta led Atticus to her bedroom, where the subtle scent of her perfume lingered in the air. He’d only ever loved one woman and thought that had been for life, yet despite feeling vulnerable, he was excited and aroused.
Their lovemaking was slow and tender, and everythinghe could have hoped for. Britta’s body suggested an active lifestyle, and her curves were pronounced. Her skin felt as smooth as silk, despite the natural signs of ageing, and to Atticus, she was beautiful. But the skin across her thighs felt rougher, almost shiny, and when Atticus looked, he almost gasped as his eyes discovered raised scars – brown in colour, almost angry. The marks were so vivid they seemed to almost disfigure her upper legs.
‘What happened?’ he asked.
‘I got burned.’
‘But… how?’
‘It’s not important, I’m better now.’ Britta touched his lips with her fingers as if to stop further questions and, with a contented sigh, closed her eyes.
