Meet Me at Wisteria Cottage

by Teresa F. Morgan

  ‘Oh, can I just pop in here?’ Maddy gently tapped on Harry’s arm, gesturing to a small gallery slotted between a boutique and a home-made fudge shop. Padstow not only boasted prestigious restaurants, but also some decent galleries. ‘Might give me some new ideas for the gallery.’ It was always good to check out the competition, and to see what other galleries offered their customers, what Maddy might be missing in her own gallery. The shop was bright with white walls and real oak floors. It had a selection of abstract work from a local artist, to the traditional seascapes, capturing Padstow’s essence as a fishing town. The gallery had a more minimalist feel than hers, and she wondered if the average holiday maker might feel too intimidated to enter. She hoped her gallery had a more relaxed atmosphere, for all to enjoy the artwork.

  ‘I think I prefer your paintings,’ Harry said softly to Maddy. She smiled. His breath on her neck had sent a strange sensation of pleasure through her, which she hoped she was hiding from him. No doubt my cheeks have flushed pink. Why did Harry do this to her? Did she even want these feelings? She’d promised herself she’d concentrate on the gallery, focussing on its success, and not on her love life. The time she’d wasted on Connor she would never get back. She needed to focus on herself.

  They visited a couple more galleries on their way, and Maddy made mental notes of the things she liked and didn’t like. I could do with more 3D art, more sculptures. Not something she specialised in herself, but she could investigate, and she could even (although it grated a little to think this) ask her mother for advice.

  As Maddy sat back in the saddle, she was reminded by the soreness in her bum around the ‘bony bits’ that she’d already cycled five and a half miles. And now she had to do it all again. Fortunately, Harry took it steady, and they rode back to Wadebridge at a more leisurely pace. The Camel Estuary was now on their left, and they spotted a cormorant sunning itself on a sandbank that was shrinking with the rapidly rising tide.

  In Wadebridge, Harry returned the bikes to the bike hire shop and they walked back to Annadale Close. Maddy couldn’t help thinking how easy it was to spend time with him. She’d got him so wrong before her house fire. But should she continue to live with him?

  Could she handle the different feelings and sensations he produced within her?

  It was now late afternoon. Harry changed back into his work clothes and was gone, leaving Maddy. She shook off the slightly bereft feeling as he left, thinking she was being silly. Her heart felt lighter, happier: she needed to make the most of this, and make her day productive, not fall back into the misery she’d felt this morning. There was nothing she could do or change about her past or about her house. Only time would tell how everything would pan out. She fetched a sketchpad and in a shady part of Harry’s garden, inspired by her new-found good mood, started to sketch ideas for paintings she’d seen that day and jot down notes for the gallery.

  Chapter 14

  ‘Hey, I thought you were having today off, as I took yesterday off,’ Maddy said, looking up from her canvas as Valerie entered the gallery. It was blustery outside, and rain looked imminent, typical British summer weather, so her friend wore a light-blue waterproof jacket zipped to her chin, which she undid a little. Maddy didn’t know how one day could be so different from the last. Yesterday had been glorious sunshine cycling with Harry to Padstow.

  ‘Yes, yes, I was, but I needed to see you.’ There was a mix of excitement and anxiety in Valerie’s voice, which left Maddy unsure whether to be excited or worried, too. She frowned at Valerie. ‘Well, you know how you aren’t sure whether you should be living under Harry’s roof?’ Maddy had shared her concerns with Valerie every day she saw her. How much she liked living with him, yet it worried her. How their relationship was developing and they were getting closer but was it because they were living together? Was it becoming all too cosy? Could it force something to happen that shouldn’t? And then yesterday had been fun. It left Maddy’s feelings in turmoil. ‘Well, I may have a solution as you don’t want to stay at mine either.’

  ‘You have enough going on in your house, without me adding to your worries.’ This time of year, Val’s three sons and their wives and girlfriends descended on her.

  ‘Yes, well, I bumped into Roy Trewyn yesterday.’

  ‘Oh, yes, how are the paintings, did his wife like them?’

  ‘Yes, she loved them.’

  ‘Great, and did he drop off his business cards?’ Maddy dropped her paintbrush into a jar of water on the small table beside her.

  ‘Yes, yes, but don’t interrupt me. You know how I lose my train of thought.’ Valerie waved her hands about. ‘You know that holiday home overlooking the bay, the one that’s having all the work done to it?’

  ‘The one that looks rather sorry for itself?’ Maddy found a towel to wipe her hands.

  ‘Yes, that’s the one. I didn’t realise Roy owns it. He bought it as an investment. Thought he’d do it up as it was in such disrepair, and then sell it on making a small fortune.’ Valerie sat herself down on a stool beside Maddy.

  ‘All right for some.’

  ‘His intentions were to get it ready slowly and sell next spring. With the opening of the restaurant he’s not been able to keep an eye on things – he’s got a project manager in place but he’s not sure if the builders are doing all they say they do, plus the money has become a little strained for him, the restaurant tying up more than he thought.’

  ‘Oh.’ Maddy shrugged, unsure where Valerie was heading with this.

  ‘So I suggested you could live there.’ Valerie beamed at Maddy.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, you said your insurance company would pay your rent.’

  ‘Yes, they would.’ Maddy wasn’t sure about this. What would Harry say too?

  ‘Roy doesn’t want a lot because he realises the house is a building site, but it’s habitable. It’s got a kitchen and the bathroom which are pretty much finished. And this way you won’t feel you’re abusing Harry’s hospitality.’

  Maddy remained silent, mulling it over. She’d be closer to the gallery too. And the builders wouldn’t really disrupt her because she’d be at the gallery most days. It would just be somewhere to sleep.

  ‘I assume it’s unfurnished, though, so I would need a bed.’

  ‘I’ve got a camp bed we could put in there and one of those fabric wardrobes I bought from IKEA years ago.’

  ‘But what about Sookie? If there are builders coming and going, I can hardly take her with me.’

  ‘I could have her or Harry might look after her.’

  ‘He hates cats.’

  ‘She could come to mine, then.’ Val patted Maddy’s shoulder. ‘Say you’ll think about it.’

  ‘Oh, I will. Definitely.’

  Valerie left the gallery, and it was all Maddy could think about. If she discussed this with Harry, she knew he’d talk her out of it. Or would he? Maybe he was being polite saying she could stay at his, when really, he’d be glad to see the back of her.

  But then, yesterday, the bike ride … Harry was always keen to please her.

  After an hour of mulling it over, Maddy called Valerie to ask if she could go see the house. Valerie made a call to Roy then called her back.

  ‘Roy says of course, the builders should be up there. He’ll let them know you’re coming. Go take a look around, then let me know. You’d be doing him a huge favour, Maddy.’

  The greyness of the weather was keeping people away, so the gallery was quiet. Maddy popped a note on the door to say ‘back in half an hour’, and took a stroll up the footpath that ran parallel to the beach below. She knew exactly which house Valerie meant. The garden was full of brambles and two-foot high weeds from years of neglect. Who would want to holiday in this sorry looking rundown cottage, Maddy couldn’t imagine. It had probably been empty for a couple of years by the looks of things. She couldn’t even attempt to open the little wooden gate on the footpath that led up the back garden to the cottage, so had to walk
all the way along the footpath to where it met the road, and backtrack along it.

  The old cottage had a farmhouse feel to it with its Cornish grey slate roof (albeit with a few tiles missing, which a roofer was currently replacing) and chimney stacks either end. The brickwork had once been painted white, though it was flaking in places and was more a dirty grey now. It looked like new leaded windows had been installed in the rest of the house, however the old wooden front door, which stood wide open, hadn’t been replaced judging by its peeling lilac paint, and the decaying porch above it. The front garden looked tidier than the back, in the sense it had been strimmed, but still looked like a work in progress, and with the builders coming and going it looked trampled and muddy in places. A shrub had once climbed the front of the house, and over the little porch, but it appeared dead now. To the right side of the cottage, there was a large weed-ridden driveway with three vans parked, presumably the builders. There was no number on the front door, and the remains of a nameplate hung loosely to the side of the wide open door, which was unreadable. Maddy could make out a W, wondering what it stood for. From inside the house, there was hammering, drilling and a radio blaring.

  ‘Hello,’ Maddy called through the bare hallway.

  ‘Hello!’ A tall, dark man bellowed back, approaching Maddy. His T-shirt had holes in it, wear and tear from building Maddy assumed. Somewhere in his late twenties to early thirties, he had tanned golden skin from being out in the weather, short dark hair full of dust, and brown eyes which flashed a hint of mischief. He wiped his hands on his shorts before shaking Maddy’s hand. ‘Are you Maddison?’

  ‘Maddy, yes …’

  ‘Pretty name. I’m Simon, the project manager.’ And involved in the building work, by the state of him. He smiled, enhancing his good looks. ‘Let me show you around.’

  Maddy followed the tall man admiring his build, and his bum, from which she quickly averted her eyes to the ground and his worn out Timberland boots, ticking herself off for her inappropriate thoughts. But she was allowed an opinion. As long as she didn’t say it out loud, what was the harm? It was hard not to admire his body. He wasn’t as broad as Harry, or as tall, but the guy was solid.

  ‘So, Roy says you need somewhere to live because you’ve had a fire at yours.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. I had a kitchen fire. I need somewhere more for the evenings, as I’ll be at work during the day,’ Maddy said. She didn’t want to add about it possibly being arson and that she’d been a potential suspect.

  ‘Oh, where do you work?’

  ‘I own a gallery in Tinners Bay.’

  Simon nodded. ‘I know the one. There’s some really great stuff in there.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Making idle chat, and saying hello to the other workmen in the house, Simon started on the ground floor, showing Maddy around. He turned the radio down in the hallway, opened a door to a downstairs toilet and cloakroom which needed tiling and the plaster painting, but was otherwise useable. There was also another room on the same side which seemed to have tools, paint, wood and all sorts stored in it. He then walked her past the stairs, along a passage to a lounge with beamed ceilings and a huge fireplace to the right. The room was bright with natural light from the large windows and patio doors, looking out towards the beach. An interior wall must have been removed to create this open plan space, Maddy thought. With the tide out, she could see the expanse of golden sand. If the sun had been shining, the view would have been spectacular, however the clouds, dark and moody, made the scene more dramatic and intimidating.

  ‘Wow,’ she said, as an involuntary reaction to the view. It was still impressive even with the jungle of a garden before them.

  ‘Great isn’t it?’ Simon said, standing closely beside her. He gently touched her arm and pointed. ‘These patio doors are coming out, and we’re building an extension at an angle, so the doors can be opened even on the windier days.’ A couple of men were already working on it, laying foundations, Maddy assumed.

  ‘Oh, what a marvellous idea.’ The wind would predominately come off the sea and would mean the current patio doors could really only be opened on the calmer days. And those didn’t happen often. Not next to the Atlantic.

  ‘I can see me finishing this project and Roy not wanting to sell it.’

  Maddy looked at the garden again and thought of Harry. It was at least twice as wide and five times longer than her own garden, probably more, as it swept down to the footpath she knew was below. This would be a perfect job for Harry. ‘Do you have someone in mind for the landscaping?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve hired a guy. Not that I see him much.’ Simon sounded disgruntled. Maddy chose not to question why. ‘He said he’ll clear it, then landscape it.’

  After standing, watching the sea for a moment, Simon showed her the rest of the house. The open plan lounge led to an in-progress kitchen-diner. This too had a fireplace, but a more modern wood burner had been installed rather than an open grate like in the lounge. They had a kettle plugged in on the worktop – so the electrics must be working. This kitchen was in a far better state than her own. It was pretty much complete with oak cupboards in keeping with the age and style of the property; it just needed the finishing touches like tiles. She noticed some sample tiles scattered on the solid wood work top with design photos of showroom kitchens.

  As she picked one of the tiles up, to feel the rough texture, Simon asked, ‘Which one do you think?’

  ‘Oh, gosh, I don’t know.’ She put the tile back down.

  ‘No, a kitchen needs a woman’s touch. Roy told me to make the choices, but I’m stuck. Imagine if it were your kitchen?’ He nudged her. ‘Go on, you must have an eye for this sort of thing; you’re an artist.’

  Maddy studied the different coloured samples more closely. There were some larger tiles and some little square ones that looked more rustic. She liked the black slate ones. It would give the kitchen a mix of old with new, and slate was very Cornish. Then she saw some little square tiles, with different iridescent colours, which combined with the slightly larger square slate tiles would give a modern mosaic effect. Some of the tiles shimmered with blues and purples, making her think of the sea and sunsets. There was a design photo to give a better idea of how the tiles should look.

  ‘These would be the safe option,’ Maddy said, pointing to the grey slate, but then she gestured to the picture she was holding. ‘However, these would give the kitchen its wow factor.’ The more she stared at the mixed mosaic pattern of the tiles, the more she liked it. ‘It’s still neutral, and earthy, but different.’

  Simon beamed at her. ‘I agree. I’m just glad I’m not doing the tiling.’

  They both chuckled.

  ‘Come on, I’ll show you the rest,’ Simon offered.

  Maddy spotted a scattering of floor tile samples by the back door, which also stood open.

  ‘Stick with slate for the floor, though,’ Maddy said.

  ‘Yes, boss.’ Simon led her back out to the hallway, gesturing up the stairs. The carpet was threadbare, and now dirty with decorating and builder dust. Would this really be better than living at Harry’s?

  Upstairs consisted of four good-sized bedrooms, all with great views. The largest of the four had a view of Tinners Bay, whereas the others looked out onto the surrounding fields and farmland. None of the rooms had carpet, only bare floorboards, and the walls were plastered but unpainted.

  ‘This really is a cottage with a view,’ Maddy said, finding herself staring out of the window again.

  ‘It sure is.’ Simon stood close by her. ‘We’re just giving the walls a few days to dry, then they’ll get the mist coat on and they’ll be ready for painting.’

  Simon showed her down the landing. There was a decent sized family bathroom, with a large shower cubicle in the corner, and a double-ended roll top bath tub standing on gold feet. All traditional white with gold taps, and even though it was a new suite it was a mix of old-fashioned charm with modern style. This ro
om looked finished. Maddy loved it. Especially the bath.

  ‘Big enough for two, apparently,’ Simon said, giving her a nudge and wink. She’d been admiring the bath far too long and blushed.

  ‘My bathroom couldn’t fit half of this in it.’ A poor attempt at not confessing she’d been thinking the exact same thing as Simon. For some reason, she’d been picturing Harry in it and how well he’d fit. Who had Simon been thinking of? The way he looked at her, his eyes narrowing and the smirk in his smile, made Maddy blush, yet made her feel uneasy at the same time. She wasn’t used to overt male attention. Now would probably not be a good time to tell him Roy wanted her in here to keep an eye on him and his men.

  Although they appeared to be working.

  ‘So when do you think you’ll move in?’

  ‘Oh, uh,’ Maddy twisted a strand of hair through her fingers, ‘I’m not sure yet … might not be for a couple of days.’ If ever. Maddy didn’t want to offend Harry, but at the same time, wondered if it would be better for the both of them if she put some distance between them. If she told Harry she was moving into this cottage in this state, he certainly would insist she stayed with him. Then don’t tell him.

  ‘Well, I’ll work on fixing up the master bedroom first,’ Simon said. He followed Maddy downstairs and to the front door. ‘That way you’ll have one room habitable as well as this bathroom.’

  ‘I’ll let Roy know soon.’ Maddy decided to sleep on it before she made any decisions.

  Chapter 15

  ‘I’m on the sofa tonight. No argument.’ Maddy had sneaked in and grabbed the bedding from the spare room and made up the sofa while Harry had done his workout at his gym. Harry stood freshly showered with his arms crossed and looking very much unimpressed. She hadn’t told him about the cottage. She couldn’t bring herself to. What if it made her look ungrateful for everything Harry had done for her this past week?

  ‘I don’t mind sleeping down here, Maddy—’

  ‘Don’t give me the ‘I’m a guest’ line.’