by Karen King
‘Hattie!’ The man waved again.
She felt Marcus stiffen beside her. ‘It looks like you have a visitor?’
‘I have no idea who he—’ Then suddenly it dawned on her, he was taller, older, had filled out a bit but yes it was definitely her stepbrother. ‘Nick!’
‘Didn’t Owen tell you I was coming? I’ve been in England on business and have a few days to spare. When Owen said you had lots to do to the cottage so you could sell it, I offered to come down and help you.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nick switched his gaze to Marcus. ‘I hope it’s okay that I’ve come. Owen said he was going to clear it with you. I know we haven’t seen each other for years, so if you prefer me not to stay with you I can get a B&B.’
Nick stay with her? That would be awkward. He’d been about fifteen last time she’d seen him and he hadn’t exactly been friendly then. But then neither had she, had she? It was a long time ago though, and they were both adults now. He said he’d come to help and she could do with an extra pair of hands. Besides, it was half her father’s cottage and Nick was his step-son so she should let him stay. She wished her father had warned her though. Why hadn’t he?
‘It’s no problem to me.’ She turned to Marcus who had released her hand and was now standing with his hands in his pockets.
‘Marcus, this is Nick my stepbrother.’ Then she turned back to Nick, ‘This is my next-door neighbour, Marcus.’
Marcus nodded. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
‘I’m sorry, I had no idea that Nick was coming to help me. I’ll have to come over another time,’ Hattie said.
‘Don’t cancel your plans for me. Just let me in and I’ll make myself at home,’ Nick said.
Hattie hesitated. She’d been really looking forward to sharing a cosy evening with Marcus. She toyed with the idea of settling Nick in, then popping next door, but it seemed rude.
Marcus answered before Hattie could get her scrambled thoughts together. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure you two will have a lot of catching up to do. We’ll have the meal another evening.’
‘If you’re sure, that would probably be for the best,’ Hattie said, trying to hide her disappointment. ‘Do pop in and see Buddy whenever you want. Buddy is Uncle Albert’s parrot,’ she added, seeing Nick’s surprised look. ‘Marcus has been looking after him and they’re very close.’
Nick nodded. ‘Owen said you were looking after your uncle’s parrot. That’s great. I like parrots.’
‘I’ll leave you to it, then. Nice to meet you, Nick. See you soon, Hattie.’
She tried to hide her disappointment as Marcus opened his garden gate and walked down the path. She’d had high hopes for a lovely romantic evening and now it was all ruined.
She sighed and turned to Nick. ‘Come on then, let’s get the kettle on.’
‘I don’t suppose you have a beer, do you?’ he asked as she opened the front door.
‘No beer, but I do have some fruit ciders in the fridge. Help yourself.’
‘Bugger off!’ Buddy shouted as soon as Nick walked in. He burst out laughing and went straight over to the cage. ‘Hello, mate, you’re a cheeky chappie, aren’t you?’
Buddy cocked his head to one side as if he was listening. Then he started squawking loudly, dancing along the branch and shouting, ‘Bloody hell, who is it?’
Nick laughed. ‘He’s quite a character, isn’t he?’
‘He certainly is. It took him a while to get used to me, but he’s settling down fine now, and I’m quite fond of him.’
‘He’s a yellow-naped Amazon, isn’t he? My mate has the same breed. We used to flat share so I spent a lot of time with Molly, his parrot,’ he said. ‘Shall we let Buddy out for a bit? He looks a bit bored stuck in there.’
‘I don’t usually, not unless Marcus is here. He escaped once and I couldn’t get him back in the cage.’
‘I’ll get him in no problem.’ Nick glanced around. ‘Are the windows shut?’
‘Yes, I always shut them when I go out but . . .’
Before she could stop him, Nick had opened the cage door. ‘There you go, Buddy!’
Buddy immediately flew out, perched on the top of the fridge-freezer and started whistling.
Hattie bit her lip uneasily. She hoped Nick wasn’t going to try and take over. ‘You’d better be able to get him back in again or I’ll be really annoyed,’ she told him.
‘I will. I promise.’ Nick opened the fridge and took out a bottle of cider. ‘Do you want one? I’ll go shopping tomorrow and get some stuff in. I don’t expect you to feed me, don’t worry.’
‘Well, that’s a relief!’ Hattie grinned, trying to lighten up. It was good of Nick to come all this way to help her sort out the cottage. It would be a lot easier with another pair of hands. ‘Yes, I’ll have one.’
Actually, Nick was good company. After Hattie had poured him a cider and made a sandwich – the crust of which he gave to Buddy, who happily took it out of his hand and then flew to the top of the fridge-freezer to eat it – they sat chatting, sharing experiences of their childhood. Hattie was surprised to hear that Nick hadn’t been happy about his mum remarrying either. In fact, he’d been just as resentful as she was and had set about making life very uncomfortable for her dad.
‘Owen bore the brunt of my teenage years, I’m afraid,’ he confessed. ‘I really hated him moving in with Mum and made sure he knew it. I caused lots of arguments between them. They almost split up once. I feel awful about it now.’
And there Hattie had been, thinking her dad was having a lovely new carefree life over in France, whereas it now seemed it had been far from an easy ride. No wonder he’d barely had time to phone or come and visit.
‘I was even worse when Lacey was born, felt like they wouldn’t want to know me when they had “their own baby”. I was a total berk. Didn’t come to my senses until I left school and went to college. Finally, I grew up, realised that relationships are complicated and that Mum and Owen deserved a shot at happiness. And that your dad is a great fella. He’s shown more interest in me and helped me more than my own dad.’
‘I felt the same about Lacey too, at first,’ Hattie admitted. She’d never stopped to think what life was like for Nick, but he was an innocent victim of this as much as she was. She wished she could go back and give that resentful teenage Hattie a shake. She could have spent her summer holidays in France every year and got to know her new family, that would have been awesome.
Mum wouldn’t have liked it, though.
She’d have got used to it.
‘Did Dad ever talk about me?’ she asked.
Nick nodded. ‘There was a photo of you on the dresser, beside the one of me and Lacey. He used to get excited every summer hoping you were coming over, then we could see he was hurt when you didn’t. Not that I blame you.’ A serious look suddenly came over his face. ‘I was awful to you that first summer. I’m sorry. I guess I resented you – Owen had been so excited about you coming, Mum had been preparing your room and writing lists of the things we’d do for weeks. I felt like you were the star attraction and no one cared about me. Pathetic, I know.’
‘And I felt like an outsider; you all seemed such a happy family unit. I didn’t feel like I belonged. You had my dad, you saw him every day, whereas he seemed to have forgotten about me,’ she confessed.
‘Parents mess up their kids, don’t they? You can’t blame them, though, they’re just trying to live their life and we’re collateral damage. I guess I understand more now I’m older. God, I’ve had some relationship disasters. I’m just glad there’s been no kids involved.’ He looked over at her. ‘Anyway, I’m sorry and I’d like to make it up to you. That’s why I came here. When Owen told me all the stuff that had to be done to the cottage, I thought it wasn’t fair to leave it all to you. I was in England and had a few days to spare so I thought I’d come and help out. And see if we could put the past behind us. We’re family and I’d like to get to know my little sis better.
’
He meant it, she could see that, and she felt a lump in her throat. She’d always wanted a brother or sister, perhaps it was time to embrace that she had both.
She held up her bottle of cider. ‘I’ll drink to that.’
He grinned and held out his, too. ‘Here’s to a better future relationship, sis.’
They clinked bottles. Suddenly she felt really glad that Nick was here, even if it did mean missing the evening with Marcus. Nick was family. And family was just what she needed right now.
Chapter Twenty-Three
‘Breakfast will be ready in five minutes!’ Nick shouted, banging on the attic door.
Hattie rubbed her eyes sleepily. ‘Coming!’
It had been a surprisingly good evening. They’d chatted, drunk, eaten the fish and chips that Nick had insisted on going out to get, saying that Owen had raved on about the fish-and-chip shop in Port Medden so much that he simply had to try some, then chatted some more. Nick had told her all about his partner, Glenn, and how supportive Owen and Raina had been when he ‘came out’. Hattie could tell that he was fond of her dad, and now had a good deal of respect for him.
At some point in the evening, Buddy had flown back into his cage and Nick had quickly fastened the door.
As Hattie reached for her dressing gown, she thought how pleased she was that Nick had turned up unexpectedly. If she had known he was coming, she would have been worried and tried to put him off, yet they had got on so well. He actually felt like a brother. She felt a bit sad about all the years they had both wasted resenting each other, but then maybe they’d had to go through that to be where they were now. And he wasn’t going back until Saturday so she had his help for five whole days. They could get a lot done in that time.
She pulled the belt of her dressing gown tighter, then grabbed a pair of knickers and put them on too, not feeling comfortable totally naked underneath it when she had company.
Not that it had bothered her on Saturday night, when she’d evidently stripped off and laid on her bed, completely forgetting that Marcus was still there. Her thoughts drifted back to Marcus and the previous day on the beach, how they had been planning on spending the rest of the evening together until Nick turned up. Would they have ended up in bed?
Probably. And as much as she was sure she would have enjoyed it she was glad that Nick had interrupted their plans. Marcus was attractive – make that drop-dead gorgeous and incredibly sexy – but she didn’t want to get involved with anyone right now; she needed to sell the cottage and sort her life out, no ties. And, she wasn’t sure she could do casual with Marcus. She had the feeling that getting involved with him would only complicate things, and complications were something she could do without.
The aroma of bacon and eggs wafted up the stairs. This was the second time she’d had a cooked breakfast in as many days. She usually had cereal. She shouldn’t feel that hungry after the fish-and-chip supper last night, but she did.
‘Morning. Sit down. I was just about to dish up,’ Nick said cheerily.
‘This smells delicious. I can see I’m going to be piling on the kilos while you’re here if I’m not careful,’ she said, pulling out a chair and sitting down at the table.
‘Rubbish, there’s nothing to you!’ he scoffed as he heaped bacon and eggs on a plate and placed it on the table in front of her.
He put a plate of bread in the middle of the table and two glasses of orange juice, then came back with another loaded plate and sat down opposite her. ‘Anyway, I don’t do a fry-up every day, it’s bad for my figure too,’ he patted his stomach. ‘But we’re going to need to keep our strength up for the big tidy up today.’
They planned on going shopping for what they needed then doing a general declutter today, then spend the next couple of days cleaning up and painting. She was also hoping to get a new bathroom suite fitted before Friday as she wanted Nick to spend the last day relaxing. ‘I’m not having you coming over and not seeing anything of Port Medden,’ she’d said firmly. She could spend the next week tidying and decluttering upstairs ready for Jonathan to take the photos the following Monday. Nick told her that Owen and his mum had struggled all last year as they’d hardly had any guests at the B&B, which was normally booked up weeks in advance. She felt guilty when she learned how her dad and stepmother had struggled financially – she should have realised herself how all the Covid-19 restrictions the previous year would have affected them – and understood now why her father was desperate for a quick sale. It would be good for her too, she was starting to get a bit settled down here, and far too fond of Marcus. She needed to sell the cottage and sort out her life. She was glad Nick had come over to help her – by the weekend, the worst of the work would be done.
She’d just finished her breakfast when her dad phoned. He was apologetic about not letting her know Nick would be coming, saying that Nick had only told him yesterday and he’d meant to message but they’d had a bit of a crisis at the B&B – a burst water pipe. Hattie reassured him that it was fine and that she and Nick were starting on the clear-out today. ‘I’ve arranged with Jonathan for the photos to be taken next Monday and to put the cottage on the market then. Jonathan is confident of a quick sale,’ she told him.
‘Thanks so much, Hattie. I really appreciate this.’ There was a pause. ‘Have you thought about what I suggested about you coming to stay with us for a bit when the cottage is sold? It would be good to spend some time together.’
‘It’s really kind of you, Dad, and I will think about it,’ she said. And she meant it. Over the last couple of weeks she’d felt herself getting closer to her dad, and the talk with Nick last night had got rid of any lingering resentment. It was time to build bridges.
They chatted a little longer, the most they had talked in years, and Hattie promised to keep him updated with the progress by sending photographs. And to keep a note of what she was spending so she could be reimbursed when the cottage was sold.
‘Now how about we ring around and see if we can get a plumber to fit a bathroom suite for us this week first? We can order one and they can pick it up for us. Then we can go out and get some paint and get started on the big tidy up,’ Nick suggested afterwards.
‘Sure. We can go into Truro. We should be able to get everything we need there,’ she told him.
She googled plumbers on her phone, and after a couple of calls found one who could pick up and deliver a bathroom suite on Thursday for them, and would get rid of the old one too, thank goodness. They looked on the website link he sent them and chose a basic white one, a new shower head for the shower over the bath and a glass screen to replace the discoloured curtain. It was all done in less than an hour.
‘Now let’s go shopping,’ she said, closing the laptop.
‘Your car or mine?’ Nick asked.
‘I don’t have a car, only a motorbike,’ she replied.
Nick looked surprised. ‘A bit of a wild one, aren’t you? Okay, my car it is then. And luckily it’s an estate so we’ll get a lot in the boot.’
Marcus came back from his early morning surf to find Hattie and her stepbrother about to get into the car. Hattie waved to him casually and Marcus waved back. Last night he’d been planning a cosy evening for the two of them, maybe even hoping they’d spend the night together, but all that was gone now thanks to Nick turning up. Hattie had said that she was staying for the whole summer but it seemed her dad had other ideas. He was obviously desperate for the money from the sale of the cottage.
It was a shame. He’d enjoyed Hattie’s company yesterday and she’d certainly got him out of a bit of a tight spot with Estelle. He shrugged, there was no sense bothering about something he couldn’t change.
He fixed himself poached eggs and toast then went up into the attic to paint. He stayed there, engrossed in his art, for a few hours. Then he became aware of someone talking outside; it sounded like Hattie. He got up and walked over to the back window to look out. There was a pile of furniture and boxes in the back y
ard next door. They’d obviously started clearing out the cottage. He wondered how much of the stuff they would get rid of.
Then he saw Nick come out carrying a painting. It was the one he had painted for Albert a couple of years ago, of some fishermen tending their boats by the harbour. Albert had been really touched and had hung it up over the fireplace, saying that he wanted to be able to see it and remember his fishing days. Marcus had spent many an evening with Albert, both of them sipping a tot of whisky as the old man sat in his rocking chair, talking – in between smoking his pipe – about his life as a fisherman. Albert had some good tales to spin – whether they were all true or not, Marcus was never sure, but he could be entertaining company. Other times he could be quite brusque and, every now and again, would shut himself away saying he didn’t want company. Marcus never took offence, his own grandad was like that sometimes, and would take himself off to his shed for some quiet time. Marcus and his nan knew to leave him be for a while. So he used to leave Albert for a day or two then pop around on some pretext of wanting his opinion about something or bringing a treat for Buddy, or – as Albert got older – some food from the hotel that would have gone to waste if Marcus hadn’t taken it home.
He frowned as he looked at the painting. Were they throwing it out? If so, should he ask for it? He knew that it was silly to feel peeved about it, he guessed a painting like that wouldn’t fit into the modern flat Hattie would be moving into, and she didn’t know he’d painted it, did she? She probably hadn’t spotted his signature in the bottom-left corner. He shouldn’t be so quick to jump to conclusions, though, they could be moving it out so that they could paint the room.
He’d go down and ask, maybe offer to lend a hand.
‘What shall we do with all this? It’s junk mainly, but maybe a charity shop would be interested in it?’ Nick said as he came out carrying another box of stuff.