The message came in their email the next morning.
Bingo; good eye. We believe someone tried to follow you. Here’s hoping you succeeded in losing them. Rescued about half the bus kids; another setback for them. Send more ordinary shots for our general collection.
They spent the day relaxing and organizing their work. Angie turned out to be quite good at it, and he insisted she needed a bigger system to work with here at home. Then he got up and stood behind her, pulling apart the braids as she worked. He brushed her hair out thoroughly, and then began rubbing her shoulders and back. She groaned and nearly collapsed face down on the little table. She slept hard that night. The next morning, she returned the favor, and then some.
As they lay clinging to each other, Preston observed, “We broke the rules.”
She raised her head up, “What rules?”
“You climbed the rocks and were away from me. I could see you, but we weren’t physically close,” he explained.
“You encouraged me.”
“Yes, I did. Sometimes the rules don’t apply. Still, we have to be careful.” He kissed her forehead. “I’d hate to have someone steal you from me now.”
She giggled, that enchanting girlish sound.
After breakfast, he asked their hostess how he should go about getting Angie a good workstation. She thought for a moment. Suddenly she said, “Leftovers.”
“Leftovers?” He was puzzled, but game to follow the idea.
“Every business buys that stuff. Some buy lots of it. Let me check amongst our associates. You may need to pay something but that should still be less than retail or even wholesale. Then I want you to check it thoroughly for anything that’s out of place, because we never really trust anyone.” She turned and started for the door. “Give me a day or so and I’ll let you know.”
He turned to Angie. “Meanwhile, I think we need to go back to where we started.”
“Wablieft?” She was puzzled.
Preston grinned. “Geographically. I still have some stuff I left in my room at Harry’s place, and I need it. Electronic gadgets, tools, software, so forth.”
“Oh. Then maybe I can take a formal letter of departure to the school. I don’t have anything there I need, but they will want me to take my stuff away.” She went to find some paper and a pen.
They hiked cross country into Wijlre and caught the train. While waiting, Preston decided to test his new cellphone, sending a text message he hoped Harry would read before they arrived. Angie composed her letter as they rode. A couple of train changes and they got off around noon at Hazerswoude, just a few kilometers from Hoogmade. It was their good fortune to find the fish wagon in one of the parking lots near the river. It was essentially a motor home converted into a sea food shop on wheels. Such vehicles typically kept a regular route through villages too small for any kind of full service locally. There was a similar thing with grocery wagons. The fish wagon also had frying vats behind the counter, so lunch was quick and easy, eating fried breaded cod wrapped in paper as they walked.
There was no direct route, but taking a narrow lane along the polders required only an hour to reach the marina. Naturally, Harry hadn’t seen the message. He wasn’t even around the place. Preston gathered his small collection and stuffed it into a couple of travel bags. He didn’t relish lugging the baggage, but it had to be. They caught the bus and worked their way to Haarlem. It was only a few hundred meters to the school from where they got off.
Angie had warned him he couldn’t come inside the place. Much as he didn’t like losing sight of her, he agreed to wait in a small open area nearby with a couple of benches. He poked around his conscious mind a bit and decided the uncomfortable feeling was just a feeling. It was nonetheless an unpleasant wait. His pocket beeped a notice of incoming text message. Had she reactivated her old phone?
No, it was Harry. He was sorry he missed his friend and insisted they not lose touch. Preston knew Harry couldn’t sit still for ten minutes unless he was sailing. During the few weeks he had stayed at Harry’s place, Preston spent less than two hours total time with him. They would keep in touch by email and the forums, but Preston’s life was on a totally different track right now.
The distraction did him good, because he was surprised to see Angie walking back toward him with a large nylon duffle bag, and her small backpack was now bulging. She sat down next to him and they kissed. “I didn’t realize how much it would bother me,” she said.
“What bother?”
“Being away from you, silly boy. If it is addiction, I don’t want a cure.” Then she added, “Oh, and they seemed almost happy to see me go.”
She insisted on a detour to a shop front near the center of the old city. It was a charity clothing place, and she left the larger bag. Preston wished he had known she was going to do that, but didn’t want to rifle through his belongings now to separate out what he could keep.
It was a long ride and several train changes back to Wijlre. They had eaten dinner from the snack cart on the train, and it was still light out as the train pulled up to the platform. They decided to grab the bus which took them to Scheulder up on the ridge and much closer to the orchard. Angie pestered him until he gave her the smaller bag, but it was still work and they stopped twice on the way to rest.
They were a bit surprised to encounter their hostess outside their door as they came into the courtyard. “Good news! Don’t unpack,” she announced.
