70
As predicted, Treweham recovered from yet another press invasion. Within a fortnight, as the autumn nights drew further in and the mornings brought a nip in the air, gradually a calmness descended upon the village.
The Templar wasn’t quite as manic as it had been, much to the relief of Dermot and Christie. Even more of a relief to them was the knowledge that Stephen had now received his money and was officially no longer joint owner of The Templar. This in turn had speeded up the divorce process and Christie was eagerly awaiting the decree absolute to be declared imminently. Knowing that she would no longer be Stephen’s wife and he had no hold over her, or her business, was more than enough to put a spring in Christie’s step.
Dermot had seemed a whole lot cheerier too. Not least at being dubbed “a legend” by the village due to his response to the pesky reporters on TV, but because he was at last now able to leave The Templar. Instead of getting emotional whilst packing his belongings, he found himself rather comforted. His retirement was well overdue and by God, he’d earned it. After serving the good people of Treweham for over thirty years, it was well and truly time to call last orders.
Tonight would be his last night. Christie and the staff had seen to it that instead of pulling pints behind the bar, he would be sat on the opposite side drinking them. All of the regulars would want to say goodbye and buy him a fond farewell drink. Even though he’d still be living in his cosy, little cottage in Treweham, he’d no longer be their landlord. Dermot was a popular member of the community. Being a pub landlord had often meant being a good listener, as customers had poured out their hearts to him. He was discreet and knew how to keep a secret. He also knew when to intervene, especially when sensing trouble.
‘So, how does it feel to be leaving at last?’ Christie smiled warmly at Dermot. She’d so miss this gentle, kind man. If it hadn’t been for him, her life at The Templar would never have run as smoothly as it had, especially under the circumstances. He had been an absolute rock to her and she’d never forget that. Suddenly her eyes started to fill.
‘Now come on, Christie,’ he softly reproached. ‘I’m only down the road. You don’t get rid of me that easily.’
‘Seriously though, thanks, Dermot.’ She swallowed, barely getting the words out.
‘It’s my pleasure. I couldn’t be leaving the pub in better hands. I take it Daniel will be here tonight?’
‘Of course – he wouldn’t miss your leaving do.’
‘Should think not, as the joint owner.’ He gave her a wink, making her laugh. ‘I said it’d all work out in the end, didn’t I?’ He eyed her thoughtfully. She’d come a long way since that morning landing up at The Templar alone and in tears.
‘Yes, you did.’ They looked at each other. No more words were necessary.
They were interrupted by Daniel as he came into the bar with Emily. Turning, Dermot grinned at seeing what was following them. A chocolate-brown Labrador puppy.
‘Look what we’ve got!’ Emily burst out.
‘Oh, what a sweetie!’ Christie knelt down to stroke its velvety-soft face. ‘What’s he called?’
‘We haven’t named him yet,’ said Daniel. ‘There you go, Dermot—’ he handed him a bottle of Baileys Irish Cream ‘—all the best.’
‘Ah, good man, thanks, very much.’
‘Can we call him Dermot?’ asked Emily, making them laugh.
‘No, we can’t call the puppy Dermot,’ said Daniel smiling.
‘How about Bailey, after my favourite drink?’ suggested Dermot, holding up the bottle.
‘That’s a nice name,’ said Christie.
Emily looked up to Daniel for confirmation. ‘Shall we?’
‘Yes, Bailey sounds good.’
‘Come on, Bailey.’ Emily took his lead. ‘Let’s play outside.’ She led the puppy through the French doors onto the lawn.
‘She’s a good kid,’ remarked Dermot. ‘Settled in at school OK?’
‘Yes, thanks, she loves it.’ Daniel paused, then added, ‘Emily loves it here, in Treweham. I think she feels more settled.’ Hardly surprising considering how Emily had been shipped from pillar to post previously. Still nobody came out and actually said that; but all thought it. ‘So, all set then?’ Daniel changed the subject.
‘Sure am.’ Dermot nodded. ‘You ready to run this pub?’
‘I’m more of a sleeping partner really.’ Daniel grinned.
‘I bet you bloody are.’ Dermot smirked, as Christie burst into giggles.
