(With many thanks to Stroker_347 who graciously took the time and effort to edit all this and to Northlander for preventing me from making another gaffe. Any mistakes, especially in the car ride which was not edited are all mine.)
*
Harold Danvers, who preferred to go by Hal, had taken a week off from work. He'd had a rotten time; his father, his one remaining parent, had died and he'd had to see to all the formalities alone; his sister had gone five years earlier, one year after his mother, of lung cancer. She'd always been a heavy smoker, so it didn't completely come as a surprise; still, it had rattled him considerably, the more so since his wife had succumbed to the same disease, only three years into their marriage. That was sixteen years ago now.
After his father's burial he'd spent a few months getting his house into shape. He found a couple of somewhat disturbing things, some of them quite painful, and got rid of them fast. His father had been an inveterate collector, and it had been hard to sift the valuable things from those that were merely nice and the complete junk. He didn't always know and had to consult the Internet quite frequently.
When everything had been sifted, sold, stowed away at his own place and the rest taken to a nearby charity he felt how tired he was, and how fed up with everything, so he allowed himself some time off. He booked a B&B in Wales for the first couple of days, to see what he'd wanted from there. The B&B was alright, and the scenery breath-taking and he had his first good night's sleep in weeks.
He'd brought a pair of walking shoes, and bought a good map at a local bookshop and that first day he wanted to climb the middle mountain top from his place. It was a lovely autumn morning and he thought he'd probably have a wonderful view from up there. The climb was not too strenuous, and he enjoyed the sounds of the birds, the occasional sheep in the distance, a dog barking abuse somewhere... When he'd done one third of the ascent and felt a bit famished, he sat down on a rock appreciating the view and enjoyed a sandwich.
Finished with his frugal lunch he went on - but the weather seemed to be turning a little. He could not see the top clearly any more, and the sky was slowly clouding over. It wasn't long before he realised he couldn't make it to the top; it would be no fun in the mist anyway, and it was obviously dangerous. He consulted his map. There was a horseshoe bend he could walk - it would keep him at the same level for a couple of miles and then go down another slope and lead him back to the main road that he'd travelled the day before, quite close to where he was staying.
The weather kept deteriorating fast. It grew cold and there was a thin rain that slowly seeped through his trousers. He almost lost all feeling in his fingers, and when he had to stop for a wee he could hardly manage the buttons of his fly. But the colours were wonderful, and he walked on feeling rather in two minds about the whole experience. When at last the path started to descend he saw someone approach. He was completely enveloped in plastic and the rain was dripping from his beard. When he was within reach he grinned at Hal. "Isn't this a bracing day?" the other man said.
Hal nodded and they passed the time of day. The encounter somehow lifted his spirits and he finished his walk whistling softly to himself. He went back to his place for a hot shower and a dry set of clothes and then he put a book in his pocket, took his umbrella and went to the George for the rest of the day. The pub was warm and cosy and there was a fire burning in the grate. He was early enough to find a place to sit close to it and he ordered a meal and a drink and opened his book.
The pub was slowly filling up. There was the usual drone of voices, and Hal thought it was really a pleasant place to be in. He had a nice meal, and then settled down to do some serious reading now, pausing to look at the other guests. Outside the thin rain had changed its mind; it was now really doing the works. The door opened and a woman came in. She was wet through and stood shivering at the bar to order. It reminded him of how he looked and felt earlier on his walk up the hill and sent a little shiver through his body. After ordering she walked up to the centre of the room looking at the fire burning and then looking for a seat.
Hal looked at her and said, "Excuse me, but would you like to sit here?"
She glared at him and said, "Yes, please!"
When Hal vacated his place and went over to an empty seat near the window, the woman sat down to warm herself and get dry. Huh, she thought to herself, he'll probably expect me to be grateful or something. She looked at Hal from the corner of her eyes but to her relief he didn't even look at her. He just sat reading some old book or something.
Karen Wade was in a foul mood. She'd forgotten to bring some papers to work, so she'd had to use her lunch break to collect them, and she had not brought an umbrella, and she was tired, and generally, she thought, life was wholly ill-favoured. She ate her food without doing it justice. Then she had a pint of lager and sat brooding, looking into the fire. She glanced again once or twice at the fellow who had relinquished his seat, but he stolidly kept on reading. When she left, the rain had cleared and grumbling a little she walked home.
The next day Hal took the car to drive to Hay-on-Wye. He spent a pleasant day visiting the bookshops; most of them were a little expensive, he thought, but still he bought quite a number of books. In the evening he had a quiet dinner at Roberto's, an Italian restaurant, and then he called it a day and drove back to the B&B.
Karen had looked around that evening to see if that reader was there, but he wasn't. Good. It meant she didn't have to talk to him to redo the fact that she had not even said thank you when he'd offered her his place. Contentedly she'd sat down to her drink.
Hal woke up to another brilliant morning. The weather forecast had promised a clear day, and he decided to give his mountain another try. This time the day stayed warm and pleasant; he managed the top easily as there was no scree, nor did the walk get very steep at any time. The view was wonderful indeed, he thought, and he spent quite some time looking at the distant slopes and the way the colours changed in the distance. "This is just great," he thought.
He returned rather late and he was only just in time to have another meal at the George. He saw the same woman from the other day, sitting at the bar and nodded to her. Then he took his drink to a table and sat down. He took another book from his pocket and opened it.
Karen looked at him read for some time. She thought he looked friendly. He had a crooked nose, and he looked a little scruffy - he could do with a haircut, she thought. He didn't look too dangerous. He made faces at the book, or probably at what he read - it really looked funny. She decided to go and talk to him.
"Hello," she said.
"Hello," Hal replied as he stood up.
"I would like to say thank you for Saturday."
"Oh, not at all. I was happy to. I hope it helped you get dry a little."
"It did, thank you. Mind if I sit down?"
"Please do. I'm Hal Danvers."
As they shook hands, Hal noticed she had a firm but gentle grip, and her skin was soft and her nails were neatly manicured.
"I'm Karen Wade. Er, I sat looking at you read for a moment. Is it a funny book?"
"I think so," Hal replied. "I've really only just started. I went to Hay yesterday, and brought back a couple of things to read." He showed her the book, an old Penguin called Poet's Pub.
"You don't live here, do you?" she asked.
Hal told her he was on holiday, and explained why it had been necessary for him to have some fresh air.
Karen commiserated with him, and decided she liked the sound of his voice. They talked about the environs for some time; Hal bought her another drink and let her talk about her job, her family and her likes and dislikes. He thought she was rather attractive, now that her shoulder length hair was dry, and he quite enjoyed listening to her. He didn't like his own looks; the only time he consulted a mirror was in the early mornings while shaving and after showering. He had a shock of unruly hair, grey, deep-set eyes and he was rather myopic. Anything up to two feet was alright...
He looked at her a little better. She had hazel eyes, dark blonde hair and a wide, mobile mouth that he found very attractive. She seemed to have a good figure but he couldn't really tell because of the cardigan she wore. She talked with her hands, like he did, he thought. She told him that she lived in an old house in town that could do with a thorough overhaul - she was saving up to have it done; she couldn't afford a car because of it. But it was a nice place, she said.
They were surprised by the bell for the last orders.
