Meet Me at Wisteria Cottage

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Meet Me at Wisteria Cottage Page 2

by Teresa F. Morgan


  Plus, Connor had returned to Bristol. And the further she stayed away from him, the better.

  ***

  Maddy turned the key in the lock to the gallery, checked the handle to make sure she had actually locked the door, then slipped the key into her handbag. She looked up at the signage ‘Captured by Hart’ with a heart diagonally resting at the end and smiled. Her gallery.

  Being holiday season, they tended to shut the gallery around seven p.m. but the rain that had come in a couple of hours ago had cleared the beach, so they were shutting slightly earlier tonight. The kids hadn’t broken up from school yet so the tourists were families with very young children, making the most of a cheaper holiday. She looked out over the horizon. Now the clouds had dispersed, the clear blue sky showed the sun descending over the Atlantic. With the tide right out, it revealed a vast expanse of golden sand and she could just make out black dots of hardcore surfers amongst the white horses of the waves. Being late June, the weather was being very kind and hot. She could see there were even a couple of bathers still in the water. Mad buggers. It’s still bloody cold. Wouldn’t catch me in there without a wetsuit.

  ‘Same time tomorrow,’ Valerie said, kissing Maddy on the cheek.

  ‘I’ll be in a bit later, but Josie will be here. I want to work on my painting, the one for a commission. Might even make the most of the light evening and do some tonight.’

  ‘Well, I’d best let you get off then, dear.’

  ‘Would you like a lift?’

  ‘No, no the walk always does me good.’ Valerie lived locally. ‘I’ll probably be expected to cook for the rabble when I get home.’ Valerie had three sons, who had all moved out, but would still call in for their mum’s cooking. She waved and headed up the hill towards her home, in the direction of where Tinners Bay Hotel was visible in the distance, resembling a five-star cruise liner shipwrecked in the landscape. The prestigious hotel even had some of Maddy’s paintings on display. She got the odd sale from there, which helped her cash flow.

  Maddy strolled round to the back of the gallery to where she’d parked her car, feeling much happier than when she’d arrived this morning, her thoughts swirling about how well the gallery had done today, with a couple more commissions taken. Valerie always helped put her head straight too. Washing away the negatives and replacing them with positives. ‘Everything has a positive, if you look hard enough,’ was Valerie’s catchphrase. Maddy smiled to herself, thinking about Valerie. She was a woman of experience: never judged, always cared, and they always had a very good laugh about things, even the serious stuff.

  Maddy had managed a couple of hours painting today, taking away her stress. She found every brush stroke therapeutic. Although the rent was high, she felt so lucky to have a gallery opposite the beach where she could watch the ocean come in and out, surfers riding the waves, and families pitching camp on the beach for the day. Sand castles, ice cream and Cornish pasties, all added to her inspiration for her pictures.

  Yes, she was blessed, and she would make this work. Although things had been messy with Connor, her life was finally back on track. Being single again wasn’t all bad.

  Maddy lived inland; a twenty-five minute drive through narrow country lanes if she didn’t come across any tractors or cars towing caravans – or slow moving camper vans. As she pulled into Annadale Close, she imagined what she needed to pull from the fridge to make her dinner. Chicken, salad … a bit of Caesar dressing … oh, with a glass of Pinot Grigio. Turning the corner, she noticed blue flashing lights, reflecting off neighbouring houses. Then she became aware of the smell of something burning. The kind of smell that clung to the hairs in your nose and made your eyes water.

  Carrying on, as she turned around the corner towards her home, two red fire engines, monstrous in size up close, blocked the road. It was sheer chaos with yellow hose pipes, firefighters and neighbours standing back to watch. Black smoke bellowed against the clear pink-blue sky ruining a good summer evening’s sunset.

  Cold fear entered her belly. It’s not … It can’t be …

  Maddy screamed, and in seconds, her car door flung open, she was out of her car and running towards her burning house.

  ‘Oh my God, oh my God,’ Maddy cried hysterically. ‘Put it out! Put it out!’ She accosted a firefighter. ‘Do something. That’s my house!’

  Chapter 2

  As if a switch had been flicked inside her, Maddy lost all control. Anger, fear and hysteria replaced her usually composed personality. Rationality had gone up in smoke, like her house.

  HER HOUSE.

  Maddy swore every expletive under the sun. Where had she put her paintings? Were they in the house, or garage? Would she have any possessions left? As thoughts whirred around her head erratically, she fought to get past the firefighters, because none of them were working fast enough to put the fire out. NONE OF THEM. Black smoke billowed out of the back of her house and from her kitchen window.

  ‘Will someone get her out of here!’ a firefighter called.

  ‘Miss, you need to get back,’ another shouted. ‘We’ve got it under control.’

  ‘But that’s my house!’ Tears streamed down her face. Her voice was sore from shouting, but still she screamed. This could not be happening. Why her house? Why?

  ‘Roses, old friend, give us a hand, mate. Get her out of here.’

  Despite her vision being blurred by tears, Maddy went to make another run towards her burning home, filled with an indescribable fury. Suddenly, her feet no longer touched the ground as she was lifted up and flung over the shoulder of a tall, muscular man.

  Being thrown into this firefighter’s carry enraged her further. She kicked and punched. ‘Put me down. Put me down, you bastard.’ But he was strong, holding her in such a way she couldn’t break free. Her hip dug into his shoulder, but her fury relished the pain.

  ‘I’ll put you down when you stop fighting,’ the man said sternly.

  She tried lifting her head, but all she could see was the carnage of her house surrounded by firefighters and red trucks. She cried and cried helplessly.

  The door closed behind her and the man put her down on her feet. She glared up into bright blue eyes. He folded his arms and stared back. She recognised the burly man with his black hair and his stern unforgiving expression.

  Harry.

  The sight of him stoked Maddy’s fury further.

  ‘Let me back out there!’ As she wiped her tears, she tried to barge Harry out of the way, but he stopped her firmly, both palms pushing on her shoulders.

  ‘You’re not helping the situation. Let the fire brigade do their job. They’ll get it done quicker without a hysterical woman getting in their way.’ Harry stood his ground, placing his hands on his hips. ‘In all my days, I’ve never seen anything like it.’

  Maddy glared fiercely at Harry. He glared back, blue eyes like ice.

  ‘Calm down,’ he said sternly, still not budging from his post.

  Maddy sucked in gulps of air, her chest heaving as slowly she calmed down. What with everything that had happened lately, this was the final straw. And she’d had such a good day at the gallery too. She should have known it wouldn’t last. Why couldn’t she be happy and stay happy?

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said hoarsely, a thirst for water hitting her throat. She tried generating some moisture in her mouth by swallowing.

  ‘They were here within ten minutes, so hopefully there won’t be much damage.’

  ‘How long have they been here?’

  ‘Not long, they’d just arrived and gone through your back door by the time you arrived. Now do you want some tea? Or something stronger?’

  Maddy shook her head. She was standing in her neighbour’s house. The arrogant man she’d only this morning had a row with about his pickup truck. She didn’t know what she wanted.

  ‘Oh, hell, I left my car in the middle of the road. My handbag is in it too.’ She started shaking, another form of panic racing through her. All she needed was he
r car and handbag to be stolen. These things came in threes. Her handbag contained her phone, Tablet and her purse.

  ‘I’ll go and move it, and get your bag,’ Harry said, then instructed more sternly, ‘Stay here, please.’ Blue eyes narrowed on her, and she nodded.

  Maddy watched him leave, locking his front door and taking the key. He so didn’t trust her. She tested it too, and found she couldn’t get out. Bastard. She was using that word a lot today. And about him. Helpless, she stared out of the window watching the firefighters put out the fire. It looked like they had it contained now. As Harry had said, they were round the back of the house. They’d entered via the back door, into the kitchen. What would the damage be like? Would everything smell of smoke? What had caught fire?

  She tried hard to think back to the morning. Had she left something on in the kitchen? Could a kettle catch fire? She’d heard of washing machines and tumble dryers being the cause of fires, but hers were in the garage. And had she moved her paintings to the garage? She felt certain she had, but couldn’t remember actually doing it. Her memory was coming up blank. She was supposed to be delivering the paintings this weekend. And tomorrow she’d wanted to start on a new commission – fat chance of that happening now.

  Five minutes later, Harry returned with the keys to her car and her handbag.

  ‘Do you want to make a phone call to someone?’

  She shook her head. She needed to calm down first. Valerie was her first thought. She’d need her to man the gallery tomorrow. Maddy couldn’t even contemplate the mess she would need to deal with tomorrow morning. Phoning her mother was not an option either. She didn’t need her racing here.

  There wasn’t anyone else she knew to call. Since moving to Cornwall a year ago, she had only made few friends and she didn’t know them well enough to impose. Her time had been spent building her art business. Unsociable hours painting or manning the gallery. Her closest friend here was Valerie.

  She checked her handbag for its contents – all present and correct, phew! How stupid to leave them in the car unlocked. Cornwall didn’t exactly have a high crime rate, however there was always the chance of an opportunist.

  ‘I’ve just realised I don’t even know your name.’ Harry stood facing Maddy, hands on his hips. Large hands too, totally in proportion with the rest of him. She’d never stood this close to him and appreciated his full size. If he wanted to be intimidating, he could be, but at the moment, she could see he was trying to help her. A small voice whispered inside her head. You’re safe.

  ‘It’s Maddison, but everyone calls me Maddy,’ she said, her breath hitching occasionally, like a small child who’d been crying too much.

  ‘Harry.’ He held out his hand, so formally, Maddy shook it.

  ‘Yes, I know, you told me this morning.’

  ‘Ah, yes, I did, didn’t I?’ A hint of a smile softened his expression. ‘Right, I think you need a drink. Will vodka do, or whiskey? I don’t have any wine. And I avoid gin like the plague.’ Maddy followed Harry into his small kitchen. His house layout was identical to hers. But his kitchen was old pine units, whereas she’d had white melamine. There would be three bedrooms above and a bathroom. ‘Or I may have some rum.’ he said, opening an overhead cupboard.

  ‘Vodka, please. Do you have anything to mix with it?’ However much she wanted to numb her brain, she’d need to be able to concentrate tomorrow morning.

  ‘I have orange juice,’ Harry said, pulling a carton from the fridge.

  ‘Perfect.’

  ‘And don’t worry; you can kip here for the night.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Her voice was softer now, almost a whisper. Her throat hurt and she didn’t have the energy to speak. A numbing shock was taking over her now. She didn’t care where she slept tonight. She doubted she’d actually sleep. Should she stay here though, or call Valerie? She didn’t know the man who stood before her, only this morning they’d been at loggerheads with each other. His truck, her cat.

  ‘Oh, God.’ Maddy’s drink sloshed in the glass as she moved suddenly. ‘Sookie.’

  ‘Who’s Sookie?’ Harry was sipping a darker liquid, whiskey she presumed. She hadn’t noticed him pour himself one.

  ‘My cat!’

  Harry rolled his eyes. ‘It’ll be all right.’

  ‘What if she didn’t get out of the house? What if she tries to get back in? She must be hungry now.’ Anxiety crept up Maddy’s back, stiffening her shoulders, but she tried to keep her hysterics in check. Did she have any more tears left to cry? ‘I should go and find her.’ She placed her glass on the counter, and as she moved, Harry held out his hand to stop her, blocking her way.

  ‘Wait!’ He clearly didn’t want her leaving the house. ‘Do you have a cat flap?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, hopefully she got out.’

  ‘But it’s in the kitchen! Oh, god, what will she do now? I usually keep her in at night.’

  ‘Shouldn’t cats be out at night?’

  This time Maddy rolled her eyes. ‘Everyone assumes this, but actually they’re more likely to get run over at night.’

  ‘Annadale Close is hardly the A30.’

  ‘And they do more damage to wildlife. Maybe I should go and look for her. She’ll be hungry.’

  ‘You are staying right here.’ His eyes glared, matching his firm tone. ‘I’ll go and look for her. And while I’m there I’ll have a chat to the fire brigade, to assess the damage to your house.’

  ‘She’s completely black, with one white paw.’

  ‘I know what she looks like.’ Harry sounded irked. He didn’t need to keep Maddy locked in his house, she was calmer now. The hysteria had ebbed away. Though she wanted to cry she was now holding it in around Harry. And the vodka was helping; he’d poured a very large measure.

  ***

  Harry locked Maddy in his house again, and went in search of her cat. He scratched his head, and rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve some of the tension out of his body. How had he managed to get involved with her problems?

  When he’d swept his neighbour off her feet, into a fireman’s carry, he really hadn’t thought things through. Maddy, now he knew her name, was not what he needed in his life. He wanted simplicity, quiet, solitude. Not a hysterical woman. Or house fires! Now he’d offered her a room for the night. It only has to be one night. What had he been thinking? For a start, he didn’t have a spare bed. Looks like you’re on the sofa tonight, mate.

  The look in his former colleague’s eyes, telling Harry to get the crazed woman out of the area and to let them work, had kicked his old firefighter instinct in. To help and protect, and calm the situation, that’s what led Harry to react the way he did – the only way he knew how. Grabbing her arms, and hoisting her, full firefighter carry, over his shoulder and into his house. It was almost prehistoric. It would have been if he’d hit her over the head with his club first. If he’d had one of course.

  Probably would have helped actually. She’d turned even more enraged by his actions. Kicking, screaming. Luckily he had the strength to hold her small frame though he probably was going to have a few bruises for his trouble. Fierce green eyes had glared at him when he’d set her down. Yep, definitely a witch.

  Now he was looking for her damn cat. Could his evening get any worse? Oh, the irony. The thing is, he’d seen the cat in the house when he’d left this morning. He hadn’t wanted to tell Maddy that piece of information. Had the thing had the sense to leave the house before the blaze caught? Cats had a sixth sense, didn’t they? Or was it just nine lives? However much he disliked cats, he hoped it was alive, and he would find it, because Maddy had been through enough tonight.

  With the smell of smoke still in the air, and firemen clearing up, reeling in the hoses, Harry could see the black scar of fire around Maddy’s kitchen window where the smoke had escaped. Some neighbours still milled around watching what was going on. Luckily, the small window at the top must have been left fractionally open on the safety latch. I
t had allowed the smoke to escape which had meant the fire was quickly detected, otherwise it might have gone on for longer without anyone realising. Guilt ate away at him. This was shit for Maddy. He’d seen the devastation over the years of people’s livelihoods and family possessions destroyed, never to be replaced. You couldn’t replace photos and memorabilia. He’d been the one to spot the fire and had called the emergency services. It looked like the kitchen had taken the worst of it, yet he feared her whole house would stink of smoke, and there would be a black layer of soot in places you wouldn’t dream of. Despite their differences, he knew he couldn’t have watched what was happening to Maddy from the sidelines and done nothing. What were neighbours for?

  And at least nobody had got hurt … unlike Karin …

  Don’t think about her now. He shook his head, unclenching his fists, shrugging off his dark thoughts.

  ‘Hey, Collins, what’s the damage?’ Harry called out to the fire officer in charge, jogging over to him. He wore a white helmet, while his colleagues wore yellow ones. His first name was Phil, but the guys of blue watch had nicknamed him Collins after the singer. He’d been caught singing in the kitchen while cooking for the watch one time and it had stuck.

  ‘Roses, good fellow.’ The two shook hands. ‘How are you doing? It’s good to see you.’

  ‘I’m good, thanks. Enjoying the landscape gardening.’

  ‘We were all sorry to see you go,’ Collins said. ‘But hey, you’ve got to do what’s right for you, huh?’ Harry smiled his agreement. ‘Did you get the damsel out of distress?’

  ‘Yeah, she’s a bit shook up but she’s safe in my house.’

  Collins chuckled. ‘It’s not like we haven’t seen it before. Anyway, the boys are surveying the damage and securing her back door and kitchen window. Tomorrow a team will be back to put our report together – you know the routine.’ Harry nodded. ‘But it looks like one for the police.’

 

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