"Hi Laura, it's me,"
"Hi Robbie,"
"I spoke to Herself. I've got the rest of this week off, and all of next."
There was a pause.
"Right."
"Aye. What did you have in mind?"
"Your comment about blowing away the cobwebs got me thinking. My godmother's got a cottage in Dorset which I sometimes head down to. I spoke to her daughter earlier, and it's mine for the taking for the next few days, if I want it. If you don't mind the drive, we could head down there for the weekend?"
"Never been to Dorset. Which bit?"
"Tiny place called Chilcombe. No one's ever heard of it. But it's just off the South West Coastal path, and there are some cracking pubs…"
Robbie chuckled and Laura smiled to herself.
"When were you thinking of?"
"We could head down first thing Thursday, avoid the weekend traffic?"
"Alright."
"It can be a bit chilly, so, er, pack some layers. I just think somewhere familiar with happier memories might be helpful healing," Laura explained and Robbie sighed quietly.
"Love, it's your call. We'll go wherever you want." he replied and Laura smiled to herself.
"Look," Robbie continued "just tell me what time Thursday, and I'll pick you up, okay?"
"Okay. And Robbie, thank you."
"My pleasure, Laura."
Laura hit end call on her phone and leant her chin on her hand thoughtfully. It was nice to have a plan in place. And she did love Dorset. It had very fond memories for her. She'd stayed there regularly since she was a child and knew that particular corner of the country very well indeed. The prospect of stomping through a few sections of the South West Coastal path, and some decent pub grub in the company of Robbie was really rather appealing.
Come Thursday morning, Laura's weekend bag was stashed neatly in her hallway, along with her Barbour jacket, a stout pair of walking boots, a thermos filled with strong coffee and a cooler packed with essential supplies. In Laura's book this constituted a sizeable homemade fruitcake, apples, a selection of tea bags and some milk for the cottage and a homemade loaf. Time on her hands had allowed her the luxury of baking, something she rarely had the time to indulge in these days. She'd added a couple of slabs of her favourite chocolate, and a bottle of sloe gin. She really wasn't supposed to be drinking much but she hoped that the fresh air and exercise might dispense some of need for sleeping tablets. At ten on the dot, a rap at the door echoed through the cottage and she went to answer it. "Hi," she said, slightly shyly as she opened the door to reveal Robbie. He looked younger out of a suit, she observed and he grinned at her. "Ready for the off?" Robbie enquired and Laura nodded. "Shall I put your stuff in the car?" he asked. Laura considered the hallway, and picked up her coat and handbag. "If you wouldn't mind putting my holdall in the boot, and then coming back for the supplies, I'll lock up," she replied and he came in to pick the bag up, collecting her boots at the same time, before returning to the car. Laura picked up the thermos and cooler, set them down outside the front door and locked it. She considered the house for a moment, and then turned on her heel and headed for the car. Robbie scanned over the front step, returned for the thermos and cooler, and then tucked them into the footwell of the seat behind him. As Laura buckled up her seat belt, he turned to her and smiled at her. "Alright, pet?" he asked and she nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear. Nobody else would have got away with calling the formidable Dr. Hobson pet, but from Robbie, somehow, she didn't mind. "Indeed," she replied lightly "onwards?"
"I was going to ask how your week had been," Robbie observed lightly as he turned out onto the ring road, and Laura snorted in derision. "Yeah, well, quite," Robbie continued "so tell me about this cottage." Laura settled in her seat and leant her elbow on the window. "Well, it's tucked down a lane in rural Dorset, just outside Bridport, about two, maybe three miles from the coast." Laura began "it belongs to my godmother, my very elderly godmother, and she and her family have leant it out to various friends and family over the years. The visitors book weaves a road through my childhood, pretty much. And although Auntie Judith's rather frail these days, her daughter Caroline who is a couple of years younger than me still lets it out to friends and family. There's not much call for it in late November, so she was more than happy to let me have it for the weekend. I didn't tell… I thought I'd spare her the details, just said I needed a break. You can get to West Bay, and Lyme Regis, those sorts of places fairly easily. There's a farm shop about half a mile's walk - we should stop in for some milk, and the nearest pub's a mile on from that. It's rather pretty, thatched roof, proper fire, that sort of thing.""Sounds like a bit of a bolthole," Robbie observed, checking his blindspot as he pulled out into the outside lane of the A40 and accelerating past the enormous lorry to their left.
"Definitely," Laura replied, rooting in her bag for a mint humbug and popping the sweet into her mouth. Robbie frowned slightly. "Motion sickness," Laura explained "want one?" and Robbie shook his head. "What route were you thinking?" Laura enquired and Robbie glanced at her for a second before turning his attention to the road. "A34 to Winchester, and then probably along to Salisbury and down from there. Sound alright?" He replied and Laura nodded, smoothing her cardigan out and settling into her seat.