Meet Me at Wisteria Cottage

by Teresa F. Morgan

  Damn cat on his bed. Whatever next? The rows he’d had with Karin over that.

  Feeling the tension creep up his back, he pushed his thoughts of Karin aside. Harry puffed pillows and wriggled to get comfortable. Usually, he preferred to sleep naked, but because of his houseguest, he decided to keep his boxers on. He didn’t need Maddy coming down the stairs and being greeted by his bare arse – or worse!

  Hoping tonight’s events and the lingering smell of smoke wouldn’t bring on a flashback – he’d not been near a fire in months – he closed his eyes and thought of the next gardening project he had lined up, trying to map out the garden, plan the plants he’d use. It worked better than counting sheep. And if that didn’t work, his medication would soon kick in.

  Chapter 4

  The next thing Harry knew, daylight was streaming through the gap in the curtains, and a cat was purring on his chest, pawing and kneading at him. He pushed her off and the cat gave a hiss. It took him a minute to gather why he was sleeping on the sofa, and why he had a black cat on top of him. For one very brief moment, he had thought he was back, with Karin, still working as a fireman.

  ‘I guess you’re hungry are you, Socks?’ He thought that was a better name for the cat, having one white paw.

  As Harry sat up, the cat persisted trying to jump back on top of him. He swung the duvet off, burying Sookie, and strolled into the kitchen, the cat trotting by his feet, tail pointed. Squinting, his eyes not yet ready to fully open, he looked at the clock on his microwave. Stupid cat, it was only five thirty-two a.m.

  He pulled the tuna out of the fridge, and like last night, forked it onto a saucer. Sookie sniffed it and looked up at him in disgust.

  ‘What? You ate it last night.’ Harry held his hands up at the cat.

  ‘Last night it was at room temperature. It’s probably too cold for her at the moment.’ Maddy had appeared in the kitchen doorway, wearing only his shirt, unaware how sexy she looked, with her hair tousled and barelegged. Wow!

  ‘Good morning,’ Harry said, quickly turning and busying himself. Why hadn’t he slipped a T-shirt on himself? He flicked the switch on the kettle and pulled two mugs from the cupboard.

  ‘Morning.’ Maddy sounded grumpy, splashing cold water over his hot thoughts.

  ‘You sure your name’s not Moody, rather than Maddy?’ He teased over his shoulder. Maddy scowled.

  ‘I’m not a great morning person at the best of times,’ Maddy said, curtly. ‘But if you haven’t forgotten, my house was on fire last night. Not exactly something to wake up to and put you in a good mood.’

  Maybe she had a point. ‘Did you sleep okay?’

  ‘Not bad. It was broken sleep, but the bed was comfortable, thank you.’

  ‘Maybe you should take a shower while I get us some breakfast on.’ Harry focussed on her green eyes, and tried not to let his own stray lower, to how her amber-blonde hair fell softly over her shoulders, and onto her breasts, curling at the ends. Stop it.

  ‘Yes, I will, but I’m worried my face will feel dry and itchy as I don’t have any moisturiser.’

  ‘Ah, I might be able to help you out there. I’ll put it on my bed. Go get in the shower.’

  ‘Oh, that would be great. It’s amazing how much you take for granted when you can’t get into your own home.’

  He let Maddy return upstairs before he followed, throwing on a T-shirt and his shorts from yesterday. He waited until he could hear the shower running then darted into his box room, opening up some cardboard boxes. ‘Now where is it,’ he mumbled. In his attempt to tidy the room he’d stumbled across some of Karin’s cosmetics and skincare bottles. It had stopped him from opening any more boxes.

  Karin had been a hoarder of beauty products, and all of these tiny bottles were samples or freebies which hadn’t even been opened. At the time, when he’d found them, he hadn’t the heart to throw them away, so they’d been thrown back in a box instead. In fact, he wondered if his mother had packed them into his boxes by mistake, because until moving here, he hadn’t been aware he had any of Karin’s belongings. In his grieving state, his mother had helped clear out Karin’s things, taking them to her parents. But he knew there would be some things left to remind him of her.

  And he shouldn’t forget the good things.

  The scents of some of the moisturisers and perfumes reminded him of Karin, and he clung to them from time to time, worried he was forgetting the good stuff about her. He wanted to remember her alive, not how she died. Now, nearly two years after her death, he should be healing – his intention was to see if a charity shop would want the items so had set them aside – but he still couldn’t face the other boxes. Harry found the carrier bag on the top of a box. It contained make-up and skin care samples, full pots Karin hadn’t started. With the shower still running, he placed it on his bed ready for Maddy to find.

  Maddy returned to the kitchen in the clothes she was wearing last night – a flowery short-sleeved blouse and three-quarter length jeans, both items covered with splodges of dried paint. ‘Thanks for the toiletries,’ she said, towelling her hair dry.

  ‘Not a problem. You can keep them if you like. I was only going to give them to a charity shop.’

  ‘Whose are they?’

  An unease churned inside his stomach as he frowned, not wanting to answer. He’d turned his back on Maddy so she couldn’t see the discomfort her question had caused in his face. He wasn’t ready to talk about Karin. Not to a stranger. He popped two slices of bread into the toaster. ‘No one’s. Like I said, you can have them.’

  ‘Sorry, I’m doing it again. Only this time I no longer have the vodka to blame.’

  Harry smiled, trying to relax. It wasn’t Maddy’s fault. ‘It’s okay, just a very long story.’

  ‘I could really do with some clean underwear, but I suppose you don’t have any?’

  Harry chuckled, shaking his head. ‘No sorry, I can’t help there.’

  ***

  After a small breakfast – Maddy couldn’t stomach eating much – she took her coffee into the lounge. From here she had a better view of her house and wanted to wait for the fire brigade to show up and go through the charred remains of her kitchen. Dread filled her at the amount of work ahead of her, because even if only the kitchen were damaged, the rest of the house would probably need redecorating to get rid of the smoke stains and stench.

  And then there were her paintings …

  The first thing she’d do when allowed back into her house was check the paintings, and then dig out her insurance details.

  Last night she hadn’t taken much notice of Harry’s lounge. His dark leather sofas clashed with the pastel chintz borders around the top of the wall and the floral curtains. Maddy’s house wasn’t the only one in need of decorating.

  Harry, after showering and changing, joined Maddy in the lounge with a mug of coffee, cupping it with both hands.

  Last night she hadn’t taken much notice of Harry either. He created quite a presence. She tried not to stare at his bum as he walked around his lounge, his small, tight buttocks accentuated by his khaki cargo pants. Her eyes roamed upwards – because staring at his bum was totally unacceptable – to appreciate his narrow waist spreading to broad, muscular shoulders, which his black T-shirt stretched across. His clothing didn’t leave much to the imagination. He would make a fantastic life model. She gave herself a mental shake. She shouldn’t be ogling him. What was she thinking? He fancied himself, remember? This is the same guy you were rowing with, only yesterday morning. Although, he was being very nice currently, and he didn’t have to be. Last night he could have left her on the pavement outside screaming at the firefighters.

  ‘Do you need to go to work?’ she said.

  ‘I’ll call them to say I’ll be over later.’ Harry turned to face her. ‘I’ll wait with you to see the fire brigade.’

  Maddy nodded. She’d already made the call to Valerie this morning while Harry was showering, who had been sympathetic. ‘Oh my dear
girl,’ Valerie had said. Her casual tone had immediately sharpened to more alert when Maddy had said there had been a fire. ‘I’m so sorry I was out last night. You should have left a message.’ Last night Maddy hadn’t wanted to leave a distressed message on Valerie’s phone, though. ‘Don’t you worry about a thing with the gallery. Get yourself sorted and keep me posted.’

  Maddy wished the fire brigade would hurry up. ‘I’m dreading what it’s going to look like inside,’ she said, feeling her lip quiver uncontrollably. Tears began to well in her eyes, and so she glanced away from Harry’s gaze, not wanting him to see her falter. The damage that would need to be fixed worried her. And she’d been doing so well this morning, too.

  ‘Hey.’ Harry sat himself down beside her, placing a hand on hers. It was warm from holding his mug of coffee. ‘This is what insurance is for. The fire brigade arrived quickly; the fire was contained in the kitchen.’

  However reassuring Harry was trying to be, Maddy couldn’t help worrying. Anxiety crept up her spine and weighted itself on her shoulders. This year she needed to make the gallery successful – her business. Would the house fire destroy everything she’d tried to achieve in this past year?

  Chapter 5

  Maddy heard the truck before she saw it, the morning song of the birds drowned out. One large fire truck pulled up, impressive and intimidating as it parked in the narrow street of Annadale Close. It was just after eight-thirty a.m. What must the neighbours think? With the arrival of the fire service, the police car stationed outside her house moved off, turning around at the end of the close.

  ‘They’re prompt,’ Harry said, heading out of the front door. Maddy put her coffee mug down and followed.

  Four men jumped out of the fire truck, and each shook Harry’s hand and greeted him. It suddenly dawned on Maddy — he used to be a fireman. How else would he know this stuff, and the crew all know him? It explained his build, too. And the way he’d carried her into the house last night. It couldn’t all be down to landscape gardening. She’d noticed the impressive equipment in his second bedroom – his gym.

  ‘All right, Roses,’ one said, patting Harry on the back. ‘You’re looking good, my man. Collins said he’d bumped into you last night. All that weeding must be doing you good.’

  Maddy’s thoughts exactly.

  ‘Thanks, Dixons.’ Harry laughed with the fireman.

  ‘We should go out for a drink sometime.’

  ‘I’d like that,’ Harry replied, but Maddy saw the flash of anxiety in his expression as if he wasn’t sure about socialising with these men.

  A red car pulled up behind the fire engine, and the driver approached them, carrying a clipboard. He too wore a fire brigade uniform, but there was something much more formal about him.

  ‘Right, Miss …?’ Dixons turned his attention to Maddy after acknowledging the other man.

  ‘Hart,’ Maddy said, blushing with embarrassment, remembering her hysterical actions the night before. ‘And I’m so sorry for being a pain last night.’

  ‘Think nothing of it. Your house was on fire. Most people don’t react too well to that, miss. Our boys take it all in a day’s work.’ When he smiled, creases around his eyes gathered. It was hard to tell his hair colouring under his white helmet, but his clean-shaven face was attractive enough. Age-wise, he had to be mid-forties, Maddy guessed. ‘This is Gary. He’s our fire investigation officer. He’s here to put a report together.’ Gary said a hello, tucking the clipboard under his arm and headed towards the back of Maddy’s house with a couple of the fire crew.

  ‘Can I see the damage?’ Maddy asked, wringing her hands and glancing over Dixons’ shoulder, watching the men enter her house.

  ‘Yes, but I need to let Gary take a look first with CSI – Crime Scene Investigation.’

  Maddy knew what it stood for. Sounded like the American TV show … was her house fire turning into a TV show? It all felt very surreal. And why were they treating it like a crime scene?

  To add to the dream – or Maddy’s worst nightmare –three vehicles pulled up, a dark Ford Focus and two vans with detailing down the side ‘Scientific Investigations’ and more men and women got out. The people who got out of the car were smartly dressed in suits. The people who emerged from the vans were dressed as police officers with black combat trousers and blue polo shirts with epaulettes and ‘FORENSICS’ printed on their back. They started to don red protective overalls and hard hats from the back of the vans. The narrow, quiet, and usually sleepy Annadale Close was full of people again. The small close felt even smaller crammed with vehicles. Neighbours twitched curtains or opened their front doors pretending to put their cat out. Maddy wanted to be whisked off by the wind, Mary Poppins’ style, and returned firmly back on her feet, once this was all over.

  Harry came out of his house with a tray of mugs, steam rising from them. He’d done the tea run. He handed Maddy the first mug. ‘I made you a fresh cup of coffee.’ His smile was so gentle and caring for a man she didn’t really know. Then, clearly noticing she needed some reassurance, he said, ‘Don’t worry, this is usual procedure when the fire looks suspect.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, taking the mug from him. ‘But why is it suspicious?’

  Harry shrugged and continued to give out the mugs of tea and coffee. Did he know more than he was letting on?

  Maddy remained static, frozen on the spot, whilst the world continued to spin, and she observed everything going on around her. As the team in red overalls dusted her front door for fingerprints, another took photos. Fire officers worked around the back of her house, securing her back door and kitchen window. Some of the plain clothed officers were knocking on doors, with notepads in hand. It looked like they were taking statements from neighbours.

  What will they all think? At least Harry was one of them. He could calm the neighbourhood gossip.

  ‘Hi, I’m Rachel,’ a woman in red overalls approached Maddy, shaking her out of her reverie as she stood motionless letting the earth rotate. ‘Are you the house owner?’

  ‘Y-yes.’

  ‘I need to take your fingerprints for elimination.’ Rachel waved a kit at Maddy. ‘Is there somewhere we can go?’

  ‘Yes, sure.’ Maddy gestured towards Harry’s house.

  In Harry’s dining room table, Rachel unrolled an A4 piece of paper and took Maddy’s prints using pre-inked flimsy plastic strips. Rolling each finger and thumb into its designated space, then turning the page over, she took a print of Maddy’s palms, too.

  I feel like a convict.

  Rachel left Maddy to scrub the inky mess off her hands. It was stubborn and took three attempts with washing-up liquid leaving her hands red and her skin feeling dry. She kept telling herself this was all procedure and she had nothing to worry about. However, she couldn’t help feeling confused by the whole situation. She’d expected to just be let into her house to assess the damage with the crew. Not be fingerprinted by forensics!

  Maddy shut Harry’s front door and joined the throng in the close once more, not exactly sure what she could do to help. She’d never felt so useless. She was met by two smartly dressed, plain-clothed officers, one female and the other male.

  ‘Miss Hart?’ said the male officer, flashing his badge – God, it really was like something out of Life On Mars, only without the flares. Would a gold Ford Granada appear and wake her from this nightmare? She’d only been watching some old episodes a couple of nights ago … was this her subconscious?

  If only she could wake and find out this was all a dream.

  ‘Yes. That’s me.’ Maddy’s heart chilled, goosebumps travelling down her arms. No, this was real. The sun was already warm; there was still the smell of old bonfires in the air.

  ‘I’m DC Adams, this is DC Stone, we’ve been asked to investigate the fire at your property. Is there somewhere we could go to ask you some questions?’ Both officers looked a similar age to Maddy, in their late twenties, yet their presence intimidated her, whether intentional or no
t. She hadn’t done anything wrong, yet guilt, dread and anxiety washed through her.

  I haven’t done anything wrong.

  ‘Officers, you can use my house.’ Harry had come along yet again to Maddy’s rescue.

  ‘Yes, yes, I’ll lead the way,’ Maddy said.

  She crossed the road, and welcomed them into Harry’s house offering teas and coffees. The three of them sat in Harry’s lounge, one making notes while the other officer talked. They asked what time she’d left the house, where she’d been all day, did she have a witness? Why did Maddy feel like a criminal? She had nothing to hide.

  ‘I didn’t do this!’ she blurted, unable to hold in her tears. Her chest had tightened, rising to her throat. ‘Why would anyone want to burn down their own home?’ The female DC pulled a packet of tissues from her jacket pocket and handed one to Maddy.

  ‘It’s okay to be upset,’ she said, smiling tenderly.

  ‘Miss, we have to ask these questions as a matter of procedure. To rule you out as a suspect,’ said DC Adams. His expression was sympathetic towards Maddy, putting her at ease. ‘Our team are making enquiries with the neighbours to see if anyone saw anything. And we’ll speak to,’ he flicked through his notes, ‘Mr Tudor, too.’

  ‘Yes,’ Maddy nodded, wiping her tears and then her nose with the tissue, ‘Harry.’

  ‘Miss Hart, do you know of anyone who would wish you harm?’

  Maddy shook her head. ‘No.’ She tried hard to hold in her tears, taking a deep breath to steady her fear.

  ‘Does anyone else have a key to your property?’

  She shook her head again. ‘No.’

  ‘Have you always lived at the property on your own?’ DC Adams asked, always keeping eye contact with Maddy while DC Stone continued scribbling notes.

  ‘No, I used to live there with my boyfriend, Connor.’

  ‘Did he used to have a key?’ DC Stone looked up from her notepad. Both officers suddenly focussed intently on Maddy.