Author's note: I've gone back and forth several times on the name for this story. For a long time it was simply 'The cottage by the lake'. But whatever it's title, I hope you enjoy it.
The rain was coming down in sheets, the wind blowing it sideways across the road, the wipers even at top speed struggling to keep the screen clear. He leaned forward slightly, frowning in concentration. His police training included annual advanced driving tests but even so this was pretty relentless. He tutted as an expensive four-by-four, designed to be more statement than farm vehicle, overtook him at speed. "Idiot," he muttered under his breath. She stirred next to him but didn't wake. She'd been asleep pretty much since they'd left his daughter's place and as much as he could use the conversation, he knew she needed the sleep more.
The last two months had been a whirlwind in more ways than one. It was early days still in their relationship, he knew that. You can't go from friends, however close, to lovers just like that, he reflected. They'd both been independent for so long that it was bound to be an adjustment. And lovers? He wasn't a fan of the word but boyfriend and girlfriend, that was a lot worse, and it felt too early to be partners. But finally getting their act together, well him mostly when he thought about it honestly, paled into comparison to the last couple of weeks. The horrific murder of an entire family, parents and three children, followed by a copycat attempt on another, had meant long days and nights for both of them. She'd taken the brunt of it, post-mortems on the young were always tough. He didn't know a pathologist or police officer who didn't struggle to keep their emotions under wraps when it came to children and now he'd seen the impact on her first hand, the professional facade crumbling once out of the view of colleagues
God, this weather, he moaned inwardly. They were only about 40 minutes now from their destination and he was keen to press on, not relishing the idea of driving through the dark in conditions like this. Reaching over he turned on the radio. He didn't want to disturb her but he was forced to admit that he needed something to help alleviate the boredom. Accepting that 70s rock 'n' roll probably wasn't going to aid her sleep, he opted for Radio 3, hoping for something soothing rather than patriotically rousing. The melody of Beethoven's Eighth Symphony soon filled the car. He wasn't sure if he'd heard it before but it was at least preferably to the sound of wipers on glass.
"Little Symphony in F, Robbie? I'd have thought you'd have opted for Dylan as a road trip companion." She yawned and stretched in her seat. "Although this is more pleasant to be woken up by."
He grimaced, apologetically. "Sorry, love. I was trying to let you sleep."
She shook her head, and rubbed his knee lightly. "No, it's fine. I need to wake up. I won't sleep later otherwise. Goodness, where are we?" She peered at the road signs as they flashed past, struggling to read them through the rain.
"Somewhere near Penrith so not too much further now," he replied. "As you're awake I don't suppose you could sort me out a mint imperial, could you? I remembered they were in your bag about an hour ago and it's been hard to think about anything else since."
She chuckled as she delved through her bag to find them. She fished one out and reached over to pop it into his mouth, before taking one for herself. "It was lovely to see Lyn and Jack, wasn't it? And Tim obviously," she remarked. She rubbed her neck, "But honestly their spare bed could do with a new mattress, couldn't it?"
He laughed, "I can't tell you how pleased I am to hear you say that. Years I've slept on that thing thinking the aches and pains afterwards were down to my age!"
As they turned off the M6, the rain eased a little and the further west they went the more the clouds began to lift, the hills of the Lakes starting to reveal their beauty. They chatted about the last couple of days. It had been Laura's idea to see if Lyn would put them up for a night or two. It wasn't exactly the start to their romantic break that he'd wanted, but he conceded it had been the right thing to do. Over the years, Lyn had been amazingly understanding about Laura, encouraging even, but seeing her old dad with someone other than her mum was always going to take some getting used to. He'd nearly cried himself when she'd come out of the house and gone straight to Laura and given her a hug, both women with tears in their eyes. Thankfully Jack had run out and hugged his legs, distracting him just at the right moment.
But now it was just them. The satnav navigated them off the main road, through small villages of beautiful stone houses, before bringing them to their home for the next week or so. And as he parked next to the cottage by the lake, he sighed contently.
"I think," she said, flopping down on the bed next to him, "That this place is perfect." She rolled on her side to look at him.
"How's that then?" he asked, grinning at how happy she looked. The nap in the car had revived her, the tiredness of the last few weeks continuing to steadily lift. He lifted a hand and stroked her hair, it was soft and light to his touch.
"Away from the world. Fridge fully stocked. Roll top bath for two with a view of the lake. Huge comfy bed. Wood burner...You," she added, a mischievous glint in her eye.
He rolled his eyes and chortled lightly, "I wondered if I'd make the list. Come here." He reached over and hand behind her neck pulled her gently closer, pressing his lips to hers. She responded with a little sound of contentment as she kissed him back. When they parted, she stroked his ear lightly with her finger, "So, what now? she asked, provocatively. "Do you have a plan for me?"
He grinned. "Perhaps..." he teased. He leaned in and whispered, "Pub supper and a glass of wine?"
"You read my mind," she said, kissing him again before jumping up and hauling him off the bed. "But you are mistaken if you think I'm sharing my chips with you!"
The nearest pub was about a mile away over fields and lanes, and with walking boots on, they set off, hand in hand. Dusk had turned to night, in the valley at least, the last of the sun just visible over the top of the furthest hill. The cottage was remarkably well stocked with an assortment of torches so following the footpath wasn't difficult. She smiled as he helped her over the stiles. She didn't need him to of course, and he knew that, but it was instinctive for him to offer a hand. There was no particular meaning behind it, it was just his way. The lights of the pub when they finally arrived were a welcome sight. The autumn air was cool on their cheeks and they were more than ready to get inside.
Albert the landlord, Albie to his friends, looked up at the sound of the iron latch on the door being lifted. He was always pleased to see holiday makers. He appreciated his regulars, they kept things ticking over, but he'd long ago accepted that without the extra money from tourists it would make the pub's survival near impossible. He watched them very sensibly choose a table away from the locals at the other end of the bar. They were a friendly bunch for the most part but they regarded this as their patch, visitors to be tolerated rather than embraced.
"Evening," he said as Robbie came up to the bar. "What'll it be?" Robbie surveyed the array of beers on the pumps. "Pint of local for me, I think. She was going to have wine but actually I'll risk half a cider."
Albie raised a conspiratorial eyebrow, "Brave, but a decision I think she'll thank you for. Kitchen's open 'til 8 if you're thinking about food. It's all up on the board," nodding behind him.
"Great, thanks," Robbie replied, handing over the money for the drinks. "Lovely spot up here."
"Aye, it is that. You staying at the cottage by the lake?" Robbie nodded. "Lucky. My wife would sell me off to live there, if she thought I'd fetch anything that is. Still, we're happy enough."
Returning to Laura, drinks in hand, he was reminded how friendly people outside of cities could be. Oxford was pretty good for that, too small for the anonymity that you got in Manchester or London, but there was nothing quite like a small community where everyone knew everyone else. Seeing the cider, she tilted her head at him, but after taking a sip she let a small smile escape from her lips. "You got away with that, just," she said. He laughed, "That's what the landlord thought you'd say."
Clearing their plates and pushing them aside, they both leaned back in their chairs. The food had been simple but tasty, and their conversation easy, the advantage of knowing each other for such a long time. Robbie was about to ask if she wanted another drink when he was distracted by something at the other end of the pub. Four or five chaps had been quietly enjoying their pints since they'd arrived, some on bar stools, a couple standing. But fuelled by warm country ale the conversation had clearly become heated and two were now talking in raised voices at one another. Robbie had seen it too many times before to be worried, he could tell the landlord knew his stuff and would have it calmed down soon enough. He caught snatches of their words.
"I don't know how you can stand there and say that...That's a downright lie...It's mine and you know it, Bob'll back me up, won't you?..."
Whoever Bob was he didn't make himself known, and Robbie turned his attention back to Laura. She'd been watching too. "Time to go?" she asked. "Probably," he conceded. "Just hot air but still, reminds me that we have a very peaceful cottage to enjoy." She smiled at the thought and reached for her coat.
The moon was bright as they got back, sending rays of light bouncing across the ripples on the water. If the sky hadn't been so black it could almost have been day. Laura headed for a bench they'd spotted down on the little shore in front of the cottage, whilst Robbie went to fetch them a nightcap, returning with a blanket as well. He tucked it around them and handed her a glass. They sat quietly, listening to the sound of gentle waves lapping on the pebble beach. She leaned against him, content to sit like this for a long time, his arm around her. She felt safe and warm. It contrasted so strongly with the bright white of the mortuary, the cold skin of the little children she'd had in front of her on the metal slabs over recent days. She shook the thoughts of it from her mind. She knew they'd fade in time and right now she wanted to enjoy this moment with him.
"Ever think we'd get here?" he asked, staring out across the water to the hills opposite. She looked up at him and saw something like sadness in his eyes. "Hoped, perhaps," she replied lightly. She reached up and stroked his cheek, "And I'm very glad that we did." He hugged her tighter, "Me too, love. Me too."