The sunny weather continued and Monday morning found them enjoying a 'Full English Breakfast' in the hotel dining room. It was an old fashioned hotel and the dining room was no exception. Dark wooden furniture and heavy curtains, with swags and tails made it a depressing room. There were several large plants on pedestals, tucked into odd corners, making the place look typically Victorian.
"I'd really love to get my hands on this place" said Alan, sipping his tea. "It desperately needs modernising. It looks like something out of the 1800's and I can't say I like it."
"You'd make a good interior designer. You've got a good eye for colour." said Clare.
"I would've liked to have taken it up, if I hadn't become an accountant." Alan replied.
"I think people keep coming back because the food is so good. I really love this." said Clare, cutting into her bacon.
"I must admit the food is excellent. These sausages are delicious," said Alan, spearing a piece with his fork. "I wonder if they buy them locally?"
"I'm going to miss this, when we get home." said Clare.
They finished their meal and stood up from the table. Clare picked up her bag and put the strap over her shoulder. Suddenly, Alan moved into a little space in the middle of the dining room and said, very loudly, in a deep booming voice:-
"Give my blessings to the chef, the food was really fine.
Toast golden, eggs perfect, sausages divine.
There is nothing more that I can add, except perhaps to say;
Goodbye, farewell to one and all, and have a lovely day."
Alan gave a low bow to the floor and walked out of the room, while the other diners laughed and clapped. Clare followed him.
"You're so funny."
Alan grinned at her.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"Where did you get that from? Or did you make it up there and then?"
"It's one of dad's little ditties. Have you not heard it before? You surprise me."
"Never mind an interior designer, you should have been a comedian."
They collected their jackets from their rooms and set off to the car. They took a drive to Seaton where they spent the morning walking around the town and the beach front. They bought some sandwiches and had a picnic lunch on the pebbled beach. Clare wanted to change as she had spilt some tea on her jeans, so they returned to their hotel in Sidmouth, before they visited the Connaught Gardens that afternoon.
Alan waited for Clare in the lounge as she went upstairs to change. He met her at the lift and hanging on the wall next to it, was a new poster advertising a Dating Agency. 'Happy People Dating Agency' it was called. Alan pointed to it, grinning. "I think I'll give it a try. You never know...I might meet the love of my life. Someone a bit happier than Marie. She was such a sour puss."
Clare was about to reply when the gent in the wheel chair came up to them. They had met him in Reception on the day they'd checked in.
"Hello you two. What are you doing today?" he asked.
Alan looked at Clare and she answered.
"We took a drive to Seaton this morning and now we're going up to the Connaught Gardens."
"Oh, you must go to the gardens. It's lovely up there. If you find a spot out of the wind, that is. I found a lovely spot up there yesterday and had an afternoon nap, away from..." here he lowered his voice... " 'The Dragon'."
Clare laughed with him and they went their separate ways.
They went outside and crossed the road, which was as usual busy with cars and coaches. Once more, they stood at the railings overlooking the sea. The sea was more choppy and the breeze much stronger, but the sun shone brightly.
"I wish people wouldn't do that." said Alan.
"What do you mean?" asked Clare, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"Say derogatory things about their wives, or husbands. I don't like it at all."
"He was only joking. I had a long chat with them both the other day. They've been married for fifty years and have come away for a holiday to celebrate. Their family is holding a party for them next week. His wife is really lovely. I took to her straight away."
Alan shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, I still don't like it. It's not my sort of humour at all. Make fun of a situation, yourself, but not others and definitely not your husband or wife."
"She's used to him, she doesn't mind. He's very nice with her, actually. I can tell they really love one another. It's very sweet, after all of these years." Clare paused then said,
"Hey, you called Marie a sour puss, so you're just as bad."
"Ah, but she is not my wife any longer is she now?" he said wagging his finger.
Alan grabbed Clare's hand and tucked it into his arm and they walked arm in arm along the sea front and started to climb the hill to the Connaught Gardens on the top of the cliff. The wind was stronger the further up the hill they went, so they decided to go straight into the gardens rather than walk to the top.
They climbed up a set of steps, into the well kept gardens, which were sheltered a little from the strong wind. A variety of blue plants and red and white geraniums were planted either side of the paths. There were shrubs and trees too; it was all very pretty. A crossroads, with three paths lay before them. One went straight on and the others to the left and right. They walked straight on, still arm in arm and coming to a bench, Alan steered them towards it and sat down. He took Clare's hands in his and looked deeply into her eyes.
"Now, tell me Mrs Porter do you think that I should go to a dating agency to find the love of my life?" Alan had no idea whey he'd said this, but it just came out. He didn't know how she would reply, but was surprised when she leapt up from the bench and ran away from him, down the path, laughing as she went.
A very strange feeling came over him as he watched her running away and he jumped up and ran after her. He grabbed her arm and swung her gently back towards him and...NOW was the moment...it had come at last.
"You, are the love of my life Clare, you. It could only ever be you."
Bringing her into his arms, he kissed her. She returned the kiss and their feet left the ground and they soared upwards, together, past Cloud 9 and up and up until they reached Cloud 15. Clare's arms were around his waist under his open jacket and he could feel her warm body pressed against his. Together they fell slowly to the ground. He felt breathless.
Clare moved away and ran along the path still laughing. He followed behind her and caught up just as she reached a wall. It was the end of the gardens and a gorgeous view of Sidmouth and the beach lay before them, at least sixty feet below, bathed in sunshine.
Clare turned to Alan then and said "Look, isn't it stunning?"
Alan placed his hands gently on her face and brought her nose close to his. Her eyes were full of laughter and sparkled with fun.
"Not half as lovely as you." said Alan. "I love you. I want to marry you.
I've waited so long to say this...I need to know...Could you love me? Could you?"
Her fingers caressed his face and she laughed softly.
"Could I love an accountant, cum comedian, cum possible interior designer? Hmm, that's a hard question to ask a woman."
"Please Clare, answer me."
She smiled lovingly at him and his heart melted.
"I've always loved you, Alan. It broke my heart when you went to Canada. I don't think I've ever stopped loving you."
"And I think I've always loved you." he replied.
Clare rested her head on his shoulder and they stood hugging one another for quite some time until Alan spotted the benches at the side and he took Clare over to sit down. He kissed her again and felt the same magical sensation lifting them upwards.
"So, will you marry me?" he asked.
"Yes, yes! I've been waiting so long to hear you say this. If you hadn't said anything today, I was going to tell you about my feelings tomorrow. I so wanted you to say this, for the sake of your pride if nothing else."
Alan was shocked. "You knew how I felt about you?"
"A certain somebody told me that you wanted to marry me." she replied.
"Angie?" asked Alan.
"Angie? What do you mean?"
"Well, Angie knows how I feel about you." Alan paused. "Was it your mother?"
"Hey, you've been talking to my mother?"
Alan was starting to worry.
"Who was it Clare? Who told you?"
Clare laughed. "It was Toby."
"Toby? Toby? He's just a toddler."
"Ah, but a very clever one. You told him when we were in Spain that you loved me and you wanted to marry me and he told me."
"I can't believe it." Alan laughed. "I'll have to have words with that little man."
They talked about how many children they might have and where they might live. They sat, for some time, talking and kissing, then Clare looked at her watch.
"It can't be that time already, surely?"
"What time is it?" asked Alan.
"Time for a cup of tea." said Clare. "Let's go to the Restaurant, it's only a short walk away."
They walked, hand in hand, through the gardens to the Restaurant which was set in a small walled garden and looked like a conservatory with large panes of glass. They sat at a table on the side of the room. Alan took hold of Clare's hand.
"I'm never going to let you go."
"I don't want you to." she replied.
"Why aren't you wearing your rings?" asked Alan, looking at her hands.
"I was determined to go home wearing a new one." Clare replied.
"We'll have to buy you a new one then."
A waitress came over to take their orders.
"Two teas, please." said Alan.
She turned to leave and he asked, "Is there a jewellers shop in Sidmouth? I haven't noticed as we've walked around."
"No, but as it happens my sister designs and makes her own jewellery made to order. It really is something special. I have business cards somewhere, would you like one?"
"Wow, that sounds good." said Clare, glancing at Alan.
They drank their tea and left with the business card. Walking through an archway they found Jacobs Ladder, which fell to the beach many feet below. Alan looked over the edge, down at the beach. The wind was blowing so fiercely, he had to grab Clare to steady her.
"It's quite something, isn't it?" said Clare, her hair blowing wildly about her head.
"Yes, but I can't stand this wind. Let's head back down, shall we?"
Alan took Clare's hand and they walked quickly down the hill and were soon back inside their hotel.