The chatter that had fuelled the earlier part of the journey had long since been spent by the time Dr Clarkson's car trundled along the last stretches of the A171 to Whitby. Bill was tired, and Beryl looked equally worn out by care and concern for her husband. The doctor wisely ceded the driving duties to his wife for the last stretch of the journey, weary after his own working day at the hospital. Isobel had wished that they could have set off earlier in the day, that their journey had not been so delayed, but Dr Clarkson was so dedicated to the new clinic he was setting up and finding a locum at such short notice proved to be impossible.
The sun was still high in the sky and the heat was starting to fade from the day. The window next to Isobel was wound down, allowing for a necessary blast of fresh air, and just as they crested the hill and the turning for the A174 loomed ahead, Isobel caught her first breath of the sea air, the unmistakable salty tang promising a fresh relief from the stale inland air.
"We're nearly there now, chaps," she said softly, negotiating the turn. "We're on our way down into the town, it won't be long now."
"By 'eck," muttered Beryl, shifting in her seat. "It's felt like a long journey Mrs Clarkson, I wonder you're not tired out."
"Oh no, not a bit of it. But I am rather ready for my supper!"
"Aye, I can agree with you there Mrs Clarkson." Bill's voice sounded thin and tired to Mrs Clarkson's sharp ears. Catching her husband's eye beside her, he turned for a friendly exchange, masking a covert look at his charge.
"I'm certain we'll be in good hands, and there'll be time for a proper rest once we're settled in."
"I don't know how you're going to manage that drive straight back tomorrow Doctor."
"Don't you worry about it Bill. We shall take our time. And there are a few things I want to take care of first, so I doubt set off straight away."
Isobel smiled to herself as she negotiated the winding street that edged along the quayside in the golden evening light. How like the dear man to be so tactful, when number one on his list was a talk with the local doctor about Bill's condition.
The way looked familiar, but it was the first time Isobel had made the journey in summer. It had been late autumn when she had made the journey to collect the Bates family and whisk them away to Yew Tree Farm, and the buildings had run with rivulets of grey rain. But now the town glowed in the evening light and her impression of the place was improving by the second.
Finally, they climbed the slight hill up to the respectable white painted corner building that was The Gull's Nest. And there, as their car pulled up and the headlights were dimmed, was dear Joseph in his good suit hurrying down from the front door to meet them.
"Good evening Dr Clarkson, Mrs Clarkson. How are you both? Mr and Mrs Mason, how lovely to see you. Please, do let me take your cases…" In a trice Joseph had swiftly removed their heavy bags and was gently shepherding them in through the door without an ounce of patronising tone. Isobel was relieved, Moseley certainly hadn't lost his touch in the years since he left service at Downton Abbey.
Up the few shallow stone steps and in through the front door and there was their good friend, John Bates, ready to greet them. Isobel noticed that the strain fell away from Bill's face at the sight of his old friend, whom he had guided through various troubles over the years and into a new and successful phase of his life as family man and self employed proprietor of a thriving guest house.
While Joseph had greeted the Clarkson's first, a very correct form of etiquette, John was able to leave such trivialities aside and address his first welcome to the man who needed it most. With an open handshake which morphed into a bear hug, he welcomed Bill into his home, just as Bill had done for Anna and himself all those years ago.
"Bill … welcome to the Gull's Nest, old friend."
"By 'eck lad, it's good to see you, it's been a long day."
"Far too long in many ways. Mrs Patmore, lovely to see you too…"
With practiced ease, John turned to greet Beryl who chucked at his use of her old name.
"It's been a long time since anyone called me that Mr Bates."
"I am sorry, old habits are hard to shake off."
"Aye, we know that lad, we know it well."
"John, are they here? Why didn't you call me? Isobel, how lovely to see you…"
Anna looked wonderful, thought Isobel. Dressed in a knee length lincoln green dress with a trim belt and neat heels, her hair swept up into an elegant chignon, she looked years younger than her last visit to the farm, when she had been so worn down and tired out from her difficult second pregnancy.
"Please, do come through, I hope we can interest you all in a bit of supper?" Anna's face was so bright and welcoming that Isobel wished they could bottle the effect and sell it as a tonic.
Bill's face faltered, his stomach was still weak and tangled from the unaccustomed long journey.
John caught the reaction.
"Phyllis has some lovely vegetable soup warming through, with some bread and butter, if you'd just care for something light…"
"Ah, you always know just what to say John."
John clapped his hand on his old friend's shoulder. "I had the best teacher in that respect Bill. Now come, let me repay your hospitality, it's long overdue…"
In a short time, they were all settled into the proprietor's dining room, the table had been extended and extra chairs found for their special guests, and was set with a shining white cloth and the best silver and glasswear. Everyone was settled and soon Joseph and Phyllis were bringing through delicious smelling portions of the thick, creamy soup. Warmed slices of bread and butter were handed around on platters, while glasses of fresh cold water were poured for the dry throated travellers. After serving everyone, Phyllis and Joseph joined the others at the table, and a gentle conversation started to flow.
The evening flowed away softly, as the light began to fade outside.
Anxious that they should not overdo it on the first night, John gently took command once the bowls were empty and every scrap of bread had vanished.
"Now, I'm sure you must be tired, and we have all day tomorrow to catch up on everyone's news, so can I show you to your rooms?"
"What time should we be up for breakfast John?"
"Bill," John smiled, his eyes crinkling in gentle humour. "You're here for a holiday, not to work."
Bill laughed gruffly to hear his own advice echoed back to him after all this time.
"True enough lad, true enough. But I'll bet my buttons it's served later than mine."
"Quite likely, very true. We serve breakfast at eight o'clock, but if you would rather have something later…"
"Eight o'clock! Goodness, that's half the morning gone!"
"So we'll see you in the dining room just off the entrance hall?"
"You will my lad, and I will be hungry by then."
"I am glad to hear it…"
John gently shepherded the Masons out of the dining room and down to their own room. Isobel made a move to stand and follow but was surprised to feel Anna's light touch on her hand and subsided into her seat, here eyes meeting Anna's in question.
Anna whispered softly "John wants to get them settled, he knows how tired Bill will be. We're hoping we can keep your company for just a little longer?"
Isobel understood immediately and was impressed again at the tactful teamwork the Bates' had developed in their short time at The Gull's Nest. How right they were for this career, it had been a superb decision for them all. Across the table she caught Phyllis's eye and shared a smile.
Down the corridor, a room door closed and a soft set of footsteps approached. John had returned.
"They're all settled. Beryl said they're going to retire, Bill's worn out. Can I suggest we adjourn to the sitting room? Perhaps for a cup of tea? Or perhaps a brandy for those who want one?"
"A brandy sounds excellent, John, I will certainly take a measure."
"I'll join the Doctor if you don't think it too racy." Isobel's face lit up.
"Not at all Mrs Clarkson. Right this way…"