by Karen King
‘I’m hoping we don’t have as many break-ins here,’ Hattie told her. Her old flat had been in one of the suburbs in Bristol, where Mali still lived, and there had been a spate of break-ins over recent months. ‘But yes, let’s get my stuff.’
They were both carrying a big box, with Lou following them, holding a bulging carrier bag with both hands, when Marcus pulled up in his camper van.
‘Hi. Need a hand?’ he asked as he opened the driver’s door.
‘No thanks, we’ve got this,’ Hattie told him.
He jumped down. ‘How’s Buddy.’
‘I think he’s going to be okay. He ate some corn on the cob this morning. And he’s started swearing again.’
‘He’s really naughty,’ Lou added.
‘I know, but you’ll have to excuse him, he doesn’t understand what he’s saying,’ Marcus told her.
‘Oh, I think he does!’ Mali said, grinning broadly.
Marcus’s gaze flickered over her in interest, and Hattie was sure he was noticing how gorgeous Mali looked in the orange top and colourful trousers that contrasted so vibrantly with her dark skin, and the beaded braids emphasising her soft brown eyes. Mali was so pretty she always turned heads, but her nature was as beautiful as her looks so it was impossible not to like her. If you upset her, though, you knew it. She didn’t suffer fools gladly. Actually, she didn’t suffer anyone gladly, which is why she and Ricki had split up. Ricki was a bit of a lad and Mali said she had one child to look after and didn’t need another, bigger one. Ricki adored Lou, though, and willingly shared parenting. In fact, as Lou said herself, she and Ricki were better as friends than as partners.
‘You might be right, he’s a clever old bird.’ Marcus grinned back at Mali. ‘Are you down for a visit?’
‘Yep, making the most of half term.’ Mali shifted the box a little in her hands. ‘I’m Mali, and this is my daughter Lou. I couldn’t come down earlier because Lou’s been staying at her dad’s.’
She fancies him, Hattie thought with a smile, admiring how neatly Mali had slipped into the conversation that she was single. And from the way Marcus was looking at her, he fancied her too. Hattie wondered if his lady friend knew what a flirt he was.
‘Pleased to meet you, Mali and –’ he bent down face level with Lou – ‘Lou. Enjoy your stay.’
Mali watched admiringly as Marcus walked over to his back gate, opened it and went in. Then she let out a low whistle. ‘He’s your neighbour? Another reason you should think about staying here. He’s so hot he’s on fire.’
‘He’s easy on the eye but he’s not so easy to get on with,’ Hattie told her as they walked across to her gate, which they’d left open. ‘I’ve had a couple of run-ins with him.’ She stood back to let Mali and Lou in first.
‘What about?’
Hattie kicked the gate shut behind her. She’d lock it in a minute. ‘He thought I was a money-grabbing gold-digger. I’ll explain it all to you at the beach.’
‘Can’t wait. Shame hunky neighbour isn’t coming to the beach too.’
‘You might see him there one of the days, he surfs.’ Hattie put her box down and opened the back door.
‘Now that I would like to see,’ Mali told her.
Lou gave her a stern look. ‘No more boyfriends, remember?’
Mali giggled. ‘She thinks she’s my mother.’
Lou raised her eyebrows. ‘She’s man-mad but she never likes any of them after a couple of weeks.’
Lou was worldly for a six-year-old, and she certainly had her mum’s number, Hattie thought with a smile. This was going to be an entertaining few days. Mali and Lou were just what she needed to cheer herself up.
Later, as they sat on the beach, keeping an eye on Lou who was collecting shells, Hattie told Mali all about her spats with Marcus. Mali grinned widely when Hattie confessed that the first time they’d met, Marcus had walked in on her naked in the kitchen.
‘Now that’s the way to make a first impression!’ she remarked.
‘Well, I don’t think it impressed him, and he certainly didn’t impress me,’ Hattie retorted. ‘We’ve called a sort of truce now.’
‘I can’t believe you don’t fancy him,’ Mali said. ‘How can you not?’
‘Yeah, he’s a looker, but he’s also a player. You should see the woman who stopped over the other night. Talk about a cougar. And he was making eyes at you. I had enough of all that with Adam. If I do get with a guy again – and right now I’m happy on my own, thanks – then I want someone who’s got a good heart more than good looks.’
Mali winked. ‘See now me, I want both!’
They both laughed. It was good to have Mali here, Hattie thought. She was her oldest friend and was always so full of life.
Apart from the dark days when Mali had just had Lou and suffered from post-natal depression. Hattie had barely recognised her fun-loving friend then, and knew that it had put a terrible strain on her relationship with Ricki. Still, she had bounced back, thank goodness.
A lot of people kept their struggles to themselves, she and Mali were like that, and she had an idea Uncle Albert had been too. He had never reached out to contact his family; if he had, he wouldn’t have been left to spend his final years alone.
He’d had Marcus, she reminded herself. No matter how much the man annoyed her, she was grateful that he had looked after her uncle.
Chapter Eleven
When Hattie got up the next morning, Lou was sitting at the table drawing a picture of Buddy, who was climbing up the bars of the cage squawking at her.
‘I think Buddy wants to come out of the cage,’ Lou said, looking up at Hattie.
‘He probably does, but I’m scared he’ll fly off.’ Hattie looked around. There was no sign of Mali but the back door was slightly open. ‘Where’s your Mum?’
‘Hanging out the washing.’ Lou nibbled at the end of her pencil as she studied Buddy.
Hanging out the washing? It was barely eight o’clock – and they’d only arrived yesterday, what washing could they have?
‘Have you been up long?’ Hattie asked.
‘Ages. The seagulls woke us. They’re really noisy.’ Lou had started drawing again now.
Hattie padded over, barefoot, to the back door and peered out. The costumes and towels they’d used on the beach yesterday were hanging on the line and Mali was standing by the wall, looking gorgeous in white shorts and a bright-lemon top, talking to Marcus, who was wearing his wetsuit, pulled up to his waist, revealing his tanned chest. Hattie refused to stare at him or to feel self-conscious about the old denim shorts and a black vest top she had pulled on when she got up, or the fact that she hadn’t combed her hair.
‘Ah, there you are, Hattie. Marcus was just telling me about his paintings. You didn’t tell me he was an artist.’
That’s because I didn’t know, Hattie thought, wondering what Mali had divulged about Hattie. Mali was a people person, she’d strike up conversations with strangers in the shops, at bus stops, anywhere. Whilst she would never divulge anything confidential about her friends, anything else was considered conversation material and no doubt Marcus had now heard a few tales about her and Hattie’s s exploits
‘He said we can use his wi-fi too, he’s given us his password.’ Mali held up a piece of paper. ‘We can pick it up here, I’ve checked.’
Hattie felt her cheek’s flush. Trust Mali! ‘Thank you, that’s really kind of you but there’s no need . . .’
‘It’s no problem. Please use it, it doesn’t cost me any extra.’ Marcus’s eyes met hers and held them for a minute then he turned to Mali ‘Well, I’m off, I want to catch the surf a bit before I start work, so see you both later.’ He picked up his surfboard and walked out of the gate.
‘He seems very nice. I think you two just got off on the wrong foot. You should give each other another chance; I reckon you’d get on really well.’ Mali turned around. ‘He’s gorgeous and super fit. Did you get an eyeful of that body? And those tattoos?’
>
How could I not? ‘He’s okay, I guess,’ Hattie admitted grudgingly, refusing to acknowledge how much that eye-gaze he’d given her had melted her insides. ‘But I don’t think we’re ever going to be bezzie mates, so don’t bother trying to matchmake. If that’s what you’re doing? Or do you fancy him for yourself?’ She shot her friend a questioning look.
‘Just being friendly, hunny. I’ve already got someone on the back-burner at home.’ Mali winked and turned back to the washing. ‘These will be dry in a couple of hours. Shall I fix some breakfast?’
‘You’re my guests, I’ll do it,’ Hattie said, about to go back inside.
‘I’ve come down to look after you,’ Mali told her. ‘Go grab a shower and I’ll make us some eggs Benedict.’
Mali’s eggs Benedict were to die for. ‘Done. I’ll be ten minutes,’ Hattie agreed. ‘And later, when Lou is playing or asleep, you can tell me about your “back-burner guy”. I can’t believe you haven’t mentioned it.’
Mali grinned. ‘That’s because it’s only just happened. It’s someone I met at the gym. He asked me for a date last week but I’m still thinking about it.’ She looked over her shoulder as Lou came out into the garden.
Mali had started going to the gym a few years ago to get rid of her ‘baby belly’ which still clung to her when Lou was a toddler. She loved it, and her body was now toned and fit. She had tried to persuade Hattie to go a few times but Hattie’s preferred exercise was swimming. She was hoping to have some early morning swims in the sea while she was living in Cornwall.
As she showered, Hattie’s mind drifted to what Mali had told her about Marcus being an artist. Mandy had said he was one of the chefs at the hotel, so Hattie guessed that meant he did his painting in his spare time, as she had done with her photography. She wondered what he painted. Mali will soon find out, she thought with a smile as she turned off the shower and reached for her towel. By the time Mali went home on Friday, she would probably know all Marcus’s life story. She had the knack of talking to people and extracting information from them. It was Mali’s bubbly personality that had attracted Hattie to her at high school. An only child, Hattie was quieter and more reserved, whereas Mali came from a big family. It had been a few years before Hattie had realised that behind that friendly face and big smile, Mali was dealing with her own issues and that big families had their problems too.
It was lovely having Mali and Lou here, she was really looking forward to the next few days.
She glanced at her phone as a text pinged in: Breakfast is done.
His conversation with Mali, Hattie’s friend, had been interesting, Marcus thought as he drove over to Thomwell Manor. Mali was lively and fun. He liked her, and the conversation had flowed easily – until Hattie had come out. It was a shame that he and Hattie had got off on the wrong foot and there was the awkwardness between them. From what Mali had said, she’d had a bit of a double whammy – losing her job and her home – and Albert’s inheritance had come just in time. He wished he’d been a bit kinder to her. He was always too impulsive when forming an opinion, his father had always told him that. ‘Don’t be so quick to judge, son,’ he’d said when Marcus had spouted off about something, but Marcus was like his mother, hot-headed, impetuous, and fiercely loyal. It was his loyalty to Albert, that had made him attack Hattie. She wasn’t a pushover though, and had held her ground, managing to look feisty and forceful even when she was completely naked. An image of her gorgeous curvy body flashed into his mind. She hadn’t freaked out about him walking in on her like that either, just grabbed the tablecloth and wrapped it around herself before laying into him. She really was something. She had an edge to her, too, with that tattoo on her arm and the fact she rode a motorbike. He sensed a bit of a wild side to her and it intrigued him.
He pulled up outside the manor gates and was about to press the intercom button to announce his arrival when they started to open. Estelle must have been looking out for him. He sighed. He’d got himself into a bit of a mess with Estelle. He never should have gone out with her the other night, or at least not let her drive him there, which then led to her dropping him back, them having a couple of drinks, then her staying over. He always avoided getting involved with clients, but Estelle was strong-minded, beautiful and hard to resist. Still, he’d almost finished the painting now and then she would hopefully go back to Paris.
Estelle was waiting on the front steps for him. ‘Good morning.’ She walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Mum and I will be ready on the lawn in a few minutes.’ Then she leant closer and whispered in his ear. ‘Thanks for the other night. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.’
Marcus had to smile at the innuendo in her voice. She really was a terrible flirt. It had been very tempting when she’d come on to him on Sunday night but he had resisted, showing her the spare room instead and saying apologetically, ‘You’re gorgeous, Estelle, I’m flattered but I never mix business with pleasure.’
‘Oh, you’re such a bore,’ she’d told him, leaning in to snog him, her hand moving down to his crotch. For a brief moment, he’d been tempted again but he’d pulled away reluctantly. ‘And you are very tempting, so I’m going to bed now – alone – while I can still say no.’
He’d learnt that it always paid to let women down gently, especially rich, successful women like Estelle who were used to getting what they wanted. And maybe if she wasn’t his client’s daughter, he would have been tempted, but he’d learnt to his cost that there were always complications if you mixed business with pleasures. It took a long time to build a good professional reputation, but it could be destroyed in no time by someone with a grudge, and he sensed that Estelle would want more than a ‘one-off’ and would want to be the one to call the shots. He didn’t want to be on call for anyone. He wanted to be free. He’d agreed to her appeal to come along to a dinner dance as her plus one, when the friend who was going to partner her had suddenly come down with a stomach bug, because she had pleaded, saying she didn’t want to go alone and it was too late to ask anyone else. It had been a fun evening but it wasn’t a partnership he wanted to continue. Being a rich woman’s plaything didn’t appeal to him at all, although he could imagine what some of his mates at the Old Salt pub would say. They’d tell him to ‘get in there’ but it wasn’t his style. Those days were behind him. He preferred to spend his time painting and surfing, and yes, now and again he was tempted to spend the night with someone but it was always no strings attached and although that is exactly what Estelle had promised, he didn’t trust her to keep to that. He had a plan for his life and didn’t want anyone interfering with that.
‘Sorry to keep you waiting.’ Felicity rushed over. Both women were dressed in crinoline dresses and carrying parasols, as in the manner of Victorian women. Felicity looked elegant and Estelle looked sensational, but then Estelle would look sensational in anything. Felicity handed Marcus a blanket. ‘Spread this over the grass, will you, dear?’
When Marcus had spread out the blanket, the two women sat down on it, smoothing the skirts of their dresses out, and Marcus continued with his painting. He had to admit that Estelle’s idea of having her and her mother picnicking on the lawn in front of the house, dressed as Victorian ladies of the manor was a good one, much better than just the house, as Felicity had originally suggested, although it meant extra work for him to meet the already-tight deadline he’d been given. The painting was almost complete now, thank goodness, and he was hoping Estelle would return to Paris then, which would get her out of his life without him having to hurt her feelings.
Chapter Twelve
After breakfast, Hattie, Mali and Lou decided to go for a walk around Port Medden. Hattie glanced at the cottage next door as they passed; there was still no sign of life. ‘I haven’t seen my other neighbour yet,’ she told Mali. ‘I was wondering if the cottage was a holiday let, but it seems lived-in to me.’
‘Someone called Winnie lives there. She’s a widow and has gone away for a couple o
f weeks to look after her sister who’s been in hospital. Marcus told me; he’s watering the plants for her,’ Mali added, obviously seeing Hattie’s surprised expression. ‘He’s a nice guy, you two just got off on the wrong foot.’
Hattie snorted. ‘You can say that again. He was downright rude.’ He’d apologised though, hadn’t he? And if they were living next door to each other, she didn’t want to be at loggerheads with him. It had been kind of him to offer her the use of his wi-fi though, and Mali was right, he was easy on the eye. An image of Marcus’s super-fit torso flashed across her mind. She batted it away. It took more than a sexy body to attract her. Not that she wanted to be attracted to anyone. Especially Marcus. She wanted to get her life straight, not mess it up.
They were passing an estate agency now, so paused to take a look at the prices of the cottages. Mali gasped and pointed to a picture of a cottage very similar to Fisherman’s Rest. ‘Look at how much they’re asking for this! I didn’t realise the cottages were worth that much.’
Hattie stared at the property in the window in surprise. ‘Neither did I!’ Mind, this cottage was a lot tidier and more modern than Fisherman’s Rest, but even so, it looked like her half of the sale money would give her a big deposit for a house. Or, if she put it with her redundancy money, maybe she could actually buy a small flat.
What would she live on, then? She’d need to get a job and bang would go her dream of being a full-time photographer. She’d have little or no mortgage though, so it was worth thinking about.
‘We’d have to tidy it up a lot to get that sort of money,’ she said.
‘Maybe not as much as you think. Let’s find out.’ Mali was already pushing open the door to the estate agency.
‘Can I help you?’ A smartly dressed dark-haired man in about his mid-thirties, looked up from the computer screen. ‘Jonathan Connolly’ said the gold-letters-on-black sign on his desk.
‘Yes, we’d like you to give us a valuation for Hattie’s cottage please,’ Mali said, before Hattie could open her mouth.