Aleksey smiled at him for this helpful addition. ‘He may have some kind of mental problem or disability.’
‘Oh aye?’
‘Yes, although he can manage a boat better than most people, he was slow of speech. Childlike—although as my friend says, also possibly quite old.’
‘Maybe one of ’em folks with Down’s Syndrome?’
This had not occurred to Aleksey.
‘We got a lot of ’em here at one time.’
‘Here? Why?’
He got a scathing look from the older man. He was used to those. He seemed to get them a lot. ‘That old azz-i-lum place on Benhar, I’d say. Just guessing, like, it being where they all went—poor mites like them.’
Aleksey often had trouble translating the local dialect, so he was only just catching up with the mangledasylumwhen Ben asked, ‘Went? They don’t now?’
The old man bent to put his elbows on the desk, getting ready for a tale, Aleksey suspected. ‘Well, ’ere’s the thing, see. Care in the community was cheaper, so it got closed couple year back. Now I reckon all ’em poor sods are home with old mum and dad or on the streets. Not much care and no bleedin’ community.’
Aleksey folded his arms, considering this information. ‘What do they do with the building now? Who owns it?’
‘Oh, not for the likes of me to say. Funny goings on all over these ’ere islands since you folks last came in asking your questions ‘bout La Luz. Who owns what an’ the like. We lost our little princeling, for a start.’
‘You mislaid the heir to the throne? That was careless of you.’
He got another suspicious look. ‘Aye, well, no loss there if’n we had—that one tiptoed through the daisies ‘ere yesterday. Prob’ly stopped to talk to ’em too. We all went out to tug our forelocks to ‘im. I were meaning the baby one. If’n you’re interested in local history, you be best talkin’ to our resident ‘istorian. Wrote most a them there books.’ He indicated to the small bookshelf behind him.
‘Where does he live?’
‘MissMorwenna Eames owns the bookshop. She’s there most days now that ‘er shop lad up an’ left.’ He started to wipe down his counter with a duster, smirking, clearly amused by some private joke. ‘You two’ll get on like a house on fire, I shouldn’t wonder.’
Aleksey didn’t like house fires, so this didn’t bode too well to him. He thanked the man, enquired and discovered his name was Arthur, then bought a couple of books, just to lay in some good will for future visits.
They went out once more into the sun.
When they got to the bookshop it was closed. A sign on the door said,Gone to lunch be back half an hour, which was possibly one of those signs intentionally designed to be annoying. Aleksey checked his watch. Ben thrust his hands in his pockets. ‘You want to wait?’
Aleksey huffed privately. He was a new man, but he wasn’t that changed: he never waited for anything.
And he had visitors on the way.
And he still hadn’t told Ben.
* * *
Chapter Eight
They collected their laundry and the flag equipment from the chandlers, bought some supplies and a newspaper, and headed back to the basin where they’d moored the boat. As they were loading up and preparing to depart, Ben suddenly turned to him and asked what had clearly been the subject of his thoughts as they’d finished their errands, ‘What if Sarah wants to leave us—if she wants to get married?’
‘Bit early to speculate on that? This is her first boyfriend?’
Ben started to guide the little boat out of the gap in the harbour wall. He tended to always want to be at the wheel now, just as he did in the car, and Aleksey was more than content to stretch out in the sun and do nothing other than make the occasional helpful comment—just as he did in the car.
‘No. It’s not like that…in their church.’
Aleksey kept his smile inside.Theirchurch. Yeah, Ben was his. He’d won that little battle very nicely.
‘What do you mean?’ It was rough out of the shelter of the harbour, and Aleksey was regretting not eating anything now.
