by Jenny Kane
‘I could stay. I mean, I can push off if you like, but I’m not due back at my studio until tomorrow, so …’
‘Would you?’ Beth looked up, caught his green eyes, and felt her insides do a tiny backflip. ‘I’d appreciate any help you can give.’
‘No problem. Jacob pulled his portfolio forward, and resting it on the bench, opened it up, ‘Maybe you’d better have a closer look at some of my work, before you decide if you want me to rent the space for a month?’
Embarrassed at him having to suggest that before she’d asked, Beth stepped closer. ‘I’d love to.’
Trying to ignore the static between them that Beth was sure she was probably imaging due to severe wishful thinking on her part, she studied the photographs. Every single one seemed to reach out to her. Beth had to restrain herself from stroking them. She couldn’t begin to imagine how she’d feel when she saw the actual pottery.
‘These are gorgeous. I would love it if you’re still willing to take the first month. I’m starting each month on the tenth day, which means the initial slot will run from the tenth of September to October ninth. For a week or so before that, you could have a few little pieces here rent-free. I’m planning to display some pictures from the local school for a family afternoon before the official kick-off.’
Jacob, his eyes shining, said, ‘What time is the lighting man coming?’
‘Two o’clock.’
‘How about I take you out for lunch, and you can tell me about all your plans before he comes? Then I suspect I’ll be saying “yes please” to the space.’
Chapter Twenty-five
‘I almost phoned you last night, and again this morning, and quite a few more times actually, but I didn’t want to interfere.’
Max didn’t look at Abi as they walked around the corner and up the hill towards Stan’s house. After the enthusiasm of the hug she’d received as she got out of the cab, Abi felt a little awkward, and oddly distanced from Max, even though they were walking just inches apart.
‘I almost phoned you as well, but I didn’t want to look at my phone. I knew there’d be messages from Simon, so I turned it off. Sorry, Max. I needed to sort things out in my head a bit, and I needed to do that on my own. Does that make sense?’
Max sighed. ‘It does.’ Digging his hands into his pockets, Max added, ‘You’ll have to forgive me, Abi, I am a helper by nature. I love to help my friends. It’s tricky to stand back and let someone I care about being treated badly and do nothing, even when doing nothing is the right thing to do.’
Abi resisted the desire to throw herself into Max’s arms. She had a feeling she wouldn’t want to ever let go if she did that, and she needed to keep a clear head for now. ‘Do you know, I think you might be the kindest person I have ever met.’
‘I’ve never been sure if that sort of comment is a compliment or not? Doesn’t it make me sound a bit of a doormat – or worse, controlling?’
This time Abi laughed. ‘Max, believe me, I have been a doormat for years, and you most certainly aren’t one. And as for being controlling – Luke was a control freak par excellence. You couldn’t be less like him if you tried.’
The freckles on Max’s face were noticeably highlighted by the abrupt colouring to his face, ‘And is that a good thing? That I’m nothing like Luke, I mean? We were about to talk before Simon stole you away, and well, you are accustomed to a standard of living I could never offer you, even though I think I …’ The decorator’s voice faded away, as if he was afraid to utter the end of this sentence.
‘Max.’ Abi stopped walking, and moved to stand in front of him. ‘We will talk properly soon, I promise.’ Allowing the instincts of her body to break the rules her brain had so recently imposed rule, Abi took his hand then carried on walking as she talked. ‘For now I’ll just say that the fact that you are nothing like Luke, or indeed Simon, is the best thing about you, even better than the fact you are kind, cute, generous, good-looking and, quite possibly, the loveliest man I have ever met.’
Then, so as not to attribute too much importance to the trickle of physical attraction that was dancing up and down her spine, and break the relieved silence that was coming from Max, Abi added mischievously, ‘Apart from Stan, of course, he’s the nicest man of all! So, how was your cream tea? I was gutted to miss that.’
Stan beamed at Abi, giving her a hug which felt paper-thin compared to the one she’d received from Max, but was no less welcoming.
‘Welcome home!’ Sadie buffeted her way through all their legs to rest her saggy head against Max’s knee. ‘I’m so glad to see you. I was worried I’d played a part in your kidnap for a while there!’
‘I’m sorry you were frightened, Stan,’ Abi gave him another brief hug, feeling better now she had seen he was alright for herself, ‘Apart from being a total git, Simon is a superb game player, which is why he’s so good at his job. It wouldn’t have occurred to him worry about other people.’
Following Sadie, who was determined to take Max out into the sunshine, Abi sat at the patio table, her eyes falling on the crumbling garden wall. Each time she visited the house she saw more signs that the whole property was badly in need of doing up. It wasn’t tender loving care it lacked, it was basic maintenance.
‘So then,’ Stan rested his walking stick against the table, and placed his hand over Abi’s, ‘what’s been happening? I want to hear all about it.’
As she told Stan the whole story, Abi could see Max clenching his fists, and she was glad Sadie was there for him to stroke out his angry frustration on her behalf.
Stan was stunned as Abi explained what Simon had done, ‘And the estate agent just let that Simon take the house off the market? Just like that, without asking you first?’
‘He assumed Simon was my husband, and as you saw for yourself, he can be very plausible. He could also prove he was Mr Carter on paper. He had one of Luke’s bank statements. It had the right name and address and everything on it. There was no way for the estate agent to know it was the wrong Mr Carter, and I must admit, it was partly my fault.’
Max was looking thunderous, an expression which appeared terribly foreign across his good-natured face. ‘How on earth can it have been your fault in any way?’
‘Before I left for Cornwall the first time I was nervous about putting the house on the market. I was concerned the estate agent would sense my inexperience and try and undervalue the house, so I asked Simon to be there as well. Even though I asked him to explain to the agent that he wasn’t my husband, he didn’t. I let him take over. It was easier that way. But I shouldn’t have done that.’ She grimaced at the memory of her former weaker self. She had changed so much in such a short time, and she was convinced that it was largely because she wasn’t in Luke’s domain anymore.
Stan spoke before Max had the chance to berate Simon further. ‘Well, I think your need for help was quite understandable in the circumstances. So is your horrid brother-in-law out of the equation for good? Is the house sold?’
Abi shrugged. ‘I’ve been avoiding Simon’s calls, so I guess I’ll have to talk to him at least once more, but the house is as good as sold. I’ve had the agents change the locks on the house, and I’m going to employ one of those house clearance firms as soon as I have either found a place here, or the buyers, the Adams family, decide they’re ready to move in. I can put stuff in storage if I have to. I do wish I knew what Simon had planned when he tried to get me to rent my house out, but I guess whatever it was, he can’t do it now.’
There was a silence of about ten seconds as the two men regarded each other with smiles on their faces. ‘What am I missing?’ Abi looked from one to the other, ‘Did I say something?’
Stan nodded to Max, as if indicating that he should take over the mantle of conversation, ‘We didn’t want to say anything to you until we were sure you were coming back, but we’ve been pretty busy in your absence.’
Picking up a pile of flyers that Abi had assumed were just junk from the local n
ewspaper, Stan waved them towards her. ‘Max has been helping me pick a place in the new sheltered housing complex in St Buryan. As I was trying to tell you before you were stolen away, Abi, I’m selling up, and I’d like to offer you the chance to buy this place first, before it goes on the market. If you want it, of course. There is no obligation whatsoever.’
Abi’s chest constricted. ‘But I can’t take your home, Stan. It’d make me look like the worst kind of vulture. Your daughter would hate me for one thing! I admit I always loved this place from the outside as a child, but my intention was only ever to take a look around! I never wanted to evict you! It was just a nice dream about my dream house. That’s all.’
Stan smiled. ‘Which is probably why Simon stealing you away like that was a blessing in disguise, even if it was scary. We didn’t know if you were coming back or not, so any decision I made about where to spend my remaining time on this good earth was made in the knowledge that I might have to sell the house to complete strangers. You aren’t pressuring me, Abi. You’ve just come along at exactly the right time in my life. I’m so very grateful. As to Sally hating you, of course she won’t.’
‘I … I don’t know what to say …’ Tears of happiness pricked at the corner of Abi’s eyes. ‘Umm, Stan, do you think I could have another look round? A proper one. On my own?’
‘Of course, my girl. I’d forgotten Simon interrupted your chance to explore last time. Away you go! Take all the time you need.’
Abi kissed his bald forehead as she got up, and Stan began to chuckle.
‘What is it? I’m not going to find another old relative lurking in one of the rooms am I?’
‘No. I just can’t believe you’ve sold your Surrey house to The Addams Family, that’s all!’ Stan chuckled, ‘I used to love that show.’
Abi’s heartbeat thudded in her ears as she wandered through the house on her own. Although she’d been there before, this time it felt very different. Now she wasn’t just dreaming of Abbey’s House becoming her home, it was a very real possibility.
Deciding to put her misgivings about Sally’s feelings on the matter to one side for now, Abi walked upstairs, running her finger up the banister as she took each hessian-carpeted stair at a time. The stairwell was narrow, but thanks to the butter-coloured paintwork and light wallpaper it wasn’t dark. She could already picture some Margaret Clarkson watercolours hanging on the walls.
The upper landing was no more than a square of bare floorboards, which led to three doors: one straight ahead, one to the left, and one to the right. Working systematically, Abi opened the door to her left, and found herself in a bathroom. Compact, with a corner bath wedged along one wall, a sink under the wide-silled window, and a toilet next to a freestanding wooden towel rack, it was neat and clean, but well worn, and already Abi found herself imagining it with a new white bathroom suite – one in keeping with the period features, of course.
Unlocking the little window, Abi could just see a glimpse of the coast. Leaving the bathroom quickly, she dashed into the next room, and without taking in the fact that it was a bedroom, she threw open the window. As she stared outside, the hairs on the back of Abi’s neck stood up. To the right the roofs of the houses in Sennen, leading out to the harbour and the sea and cliffs beyond, framed her view. Abi knew that it no longer mattered what the rest of the house was like. She had to live here. To be able to sit here, on the wide window seat she currently knelt on, in her own bedroom, and see that vista every morning was enough. It was worth every single penny she’d have once the Adamses had bought her old home.
Forcing herself to consider the rest of the room, Abi looked at the bedroom. It was obviously the one Stan used, as it had signs of his inhabitancy all over it. Trying not to feel like she was intruding, she took in its double bed placed in the middle of the far wall, the small oak wardrobe, chest of drawers and dressing table and chair, she felt the smile of hope she hadn’t been allowing herself to show spread across her face.
Moving into the third room, expecting it to be another bedroom of about the same size, Abi took a sharp intake of breath stopped in her tracks as she pushed the door.
Not only was the room twice the size as the previous one, Abi could see clearly that this was where the house had been knocked from two separate houses into one. A line of bare bricks had been left between the white-painted plaster walls to mark the old divide.
An unmade double bed was dwarfed by the space. Again Abi made a beeline for the window, and stared through the glass. A feeling of contentment filled her from her toes up. The view from this larger window, unbelievably, was even better than from the other bedroom. She’d been wrong – Stan’s room was great, but this room was her room. This was where she was going to live. There was even enough space for her to draw if she set up a desk and easel by the window. There would certainly be enough light during the summer months.
Abi had just decided that this huge room must have filled the entire upstairs of the second terrace, when a closer look at a full-length curtain on the wall to her right revealed a hidden door. Feeling as if she was a character in a fairy tale, Abi pushed open the door. A neat cream ensuite washroom, complete with shower, stared back at her.
With one last look through the window at the sea, Abi headed back downstairs.
She had already seen, and fallen in love with, the kitchen and its larder, and she knew the living room that led on through to the garden was cosy and comfortable, and just needed a spring clean, new carpet, and blinds instead of its thick light-obscuring curtains. That just left two more doors to peep behind for the first time.
With excitement buzzing through her veins, Abi stood outside the first one. It looked like a shed door, and when she pushed it open she found herself in a huge walk-in cupboard, full of coats, shoes, and long-forgotten piles of wellington boots. Her heart ached for Stan as her gaze fell on two pairs of tiny children’s wellington boots. They’d probably belonged to the grandchildren he missed so much.
The last door led into the dining room. It, like the large bedroom above it, was huge, and with its one small radiator, and large picture windows Abi judged must be as cold as ice in the winter months.
No expert on antiques, Abi was sure that the large polished mahogany table in the centre of the room, with its matching set of ten chairs, must be Chippendale or something similar. The more she looked at the sideboards and shelves, all stuffed with books, vases, jugs, china, and endless ornaments, the more Abi comprehended how long it was going to take for Stan to pack all his stuff.
Pulling out a dining chair, Abi sat in the quiet, letting the peace of the room engulf and comfort her. It felt right being there. Sighing with a quite contented pleasure, Abi allowed herself ten minutes of indulgent daydreaming about how she’d keep the character of the cottage just as Stan had it, but would also put her own mark on it, before she got to her feet.
It was time to go back to the boys.
‘Well then, my girl, do you want to buy the old place?’
Abi couldn’t find her voice. It was all too good to be true. She nodded, beaming broadly.
‘Great stuff!’ Stan clapped his hands together, ‘Max and I have been chatting while you explored. We’re going to clear the house as best we can between his jobs, and if I don’t like the decor in my new place, then you’re going to add me to your client list, aren’t you, Max?’
‘No, I’m not.’ Max laughed, ‘I’m going to decorate it for you as a friend, free of charge, between paid jobs. Least I can do for you being so kind to Abi.’
‘I do have one favour to ask though, Abi.’ Stan grinned at Abi’s suddenly serious expression as she listened, ‘I know you’re awfully busy with Jack’s granddaughter, but as you’ll have seen, this place is packed to the rafters with stuff I’m never going to need again. Do you think you could bear to help me pack up, sort, and sell off my possessions?’
‘Of course I can! But are you sure you want to get rid of much? Everything is quality stuff.’
‘But won’t you miss it all?’
‘Some of it, yes. But I won’t miss being in a house I can’t afford to heat properly, and worrying about dusting it all!’
‘Then yes, of course I will help you, Stan. It’ll be a privilege.’
Chapter Twenty-six
Max had gone to fetch some paint colour charts from the van, and Stan was beginning to look tired. With her mind stacked full of everything that she had to do now she was back in Cornwall, Abi found herself in need of thinking space as much as Stan was in need of a nap.
‘Shall I take Sadie out for a bit of a walk, Stan?’
‘Would you? That would be really helpful. The old girl doesn’t get a proper stretch of her legs too much these days.’
Unhooking the lead from the cupboard she’d discovered a few moments ago, Abi found the presence of the retriever comforting as she walked out of the cottage that was to become her own. Despite her elation, Abi could feel tension knot within her as she mentally listed all the things she had to do. There were business cards to make for Beth, other artists to track down for after Jacob’s month, assuming Beth took him on (which Abi was sure she would, considering how hot she found him), and there was only so much longer she could put off calling Simon, all her possessions in Surrey needed sorting, she had to find a local solicitor for the legal side of the move, and then there was Max …
‘Penny for them?’
Abi hadn’t noticed Max catch up with her as she sauntered, very much at Sadie’s elderly pace, along the road. ‘I think the amount of stuff vying for attention in my brain right now might cost nearer a pound!’
Ruffling Sadie’s ears, Max smiled. ‘I’ll bet! So, how are you going to celebrate?’
‘Celebrate?’
‘You have your dream house! You’re going to own Abbey’s House!’