Page 34 of The Winter of Second Chances
‘She didn’t mention it to me.’
‘It’s an unspoken agreement.’
‘How did you get in?’
‘Mari gave me a key to one of the shutters,’ said Alfred. ‘And the window latch gives with a little jimmying.’ He lifted one hand to reveal a silver key swinging between his thumb and forefinger.
‘Ah, that explains it. For a moment I thought I had a Houdini on my hands!’
‘Nothing so exciting, I’m afraid.’
Alfred began to shift onto his knees.
‘I’m going to get up,’ he said. ‘Please don’t launch any weapons at me.’
Annie smiled and held her hands up.
‘I am unarmed.’
The rolling pin clattered onto the floorboards and rolled under a table as he stood. He leaned the umbrella up against a table leg and set about folding his blankets and stuffing them neatly into the shopping bag he’d been using as a pillow.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Annie.
‘I’m leaving,’ said Alfred.
‘You can’t go out in this!’ said Annie. ‘The weather’s terrible.’
As though to strengthen her point a gust of wind hit the shutters like someone was outside battering them with a canoe.
‘Just stay,’ said Annie. ‘If it’s all right with Mari, it’s all right with me.’
Alfred smiled hesitantly. It wasn’t a face that was used to smiling. His leathery cheeks concertinaed into deep lines that travelled up past his eyes and along his weather-beaten forehead.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked.
‘Absolutely,’ said Annie. ‘Do you need anything?’
‘No, thanks,’ he replied. ‘I’ve got everything I need.’
What you need is somewhere to live!Annie thought to herself, but she said, ‘Okay then. Well, goodnight.’
This time Alfred really smiled; the lines in his face deepened so that it looked like it was swallowing itself. But his eyes twinkled and Annie couldn’t help but smile back.
He retrieved the rolling pin and handed it back to Annie, along with the umbrella. Annie smiled sheepishly.
‘Sorry about that,’ she said, tucking the weapons under her arm.
‘No apology needed. Goodnight,’ said Alfred. ‘And thank you.’
Annie nodded. Alfred began to pull blankets back out of his bag.
Back upstairs, the warmth of the little flat washed over her and Annie felt a pang of sorrow for the things that made Alfred feel he couldn’t cope with being an ‘inny’. She made herself a cup of camomile tea, plucked Mari’s guide to Saltwater Nook from the bookcase and settled back into bed.
Annie opened the handwritten book and flipped through the pages. At the beginning of the section markedSeptemberwas a side note, which read:
Alfred:
Around this time of year, Alfred will occasionally let himself in of an evening when the weather is particularly squally. He is homeless. Something happened to him a long time ago that caused him not only to lose his home but to feel like he didn’t belong in one. He is a good man, of that much I am sure, and a man of nature too. He is as in harmony with the world as the birds are the air.
