Kitabı oxu: «Meet Me at Wisteria Cottage»
Copyright
HarperImpulse an imprint of
HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk
First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2017
Copyright © Teresa F. Morgan 2017
Cover design by Cherie Chapman © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2017
Cover images © Shutterstock.com
Teresa F. Morgan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008225346
Ebook Edition © April 2017 ISBN: 9780008225339
Version: 2018-09-24
Dedication
For my dad, my real life hero
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Also by Teresa F. Morgan
About This Author
About the Publisher
Chapter 1
Maddison Hart threw her bag on the passenger seat, turned the key in the ignition and, checking the pavement was clear, reversed off the driveway. A bad memory reminded her to glance in her wing mirror just in time. She was about to hit her neighbour’s pickup truck on the opposite side of the road – again. She slammed the brakes and cursed. She’d only just had her damn brake light fixed.
‘Bloody idiot,’ she said, screwing up her face.
Why did he park it there, on the road, and not on his driveway? It was big enough!
He always seemed to be parked there when she wanted to reverse off her drive, too! Damn the man.
Her neighbour, wearing only a pair of knee-length khaki shorts, and busy putting some tools into the back of the black pickup, smirked.
Oh, crap, he’d heard her too, with her window partially down. Sod it, he’d been living here three months, and now it was getting annoying. She pressed the button, and lowered her window further. She would not be intimidated by his bare chest and muscles.
‘Mr …’ she glanced at the stickers reading ‘Tudor Landscapes’ along the truck’s side, ‘Mr Tudor,’ she said more assertively, ‘could you not park your truck right there?’
‘It’s Harry.’
‘Okay, Harry,’ she sniped, ‘could you please not park your truck right there.’ Everything about him, his whole demeanour, infuriated Maddy.
‘Why?’
‘I nearly hit it – again!’
‘What do you mean again?’ He glanced at the truck, rubbing his hand along the paintwork.
‘I said nearly.’ She lied. Last time she had clonked it, but it had done more damage to her car than his.
‘It’s easy, look in your mirrors as you reverse off your drive, lady.’
Maddy took a deep breath, her teeth clamped together and she dramatically swished her strawberry blonde hair off her shoulders before choosing her next words. ‘It’s awkward whether I look in my mirrors or not.’
‘Drive slower then.’
Maddy refrained from growling with frustration, instead she gripped the steering wheel tighter. The man was obviously too arrogant to listen. ‘It doesn’t matter how fast I go. I’m used to reversing off my drive, hassle free. The people who lived in the house before you never parked on the road. They used their driveway.’
‘Then reverse onto your drive, so you can see what you’re doing when you leave, if it’s so difficult.’
‘It’s not easy to reverse onto my drive either, with your monstrosity of a truck in the road.’ The road was too narrow, as it only led to a handful of houses.
‘Maybe you should own a smaller car if you can’t handle it.’
Deep breath, Maddy. One, two, three … She did not like his smug expression, and wished he wasn’t six feet tall and built like a marine, standing there baring his tanned torso, because she wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. Bastard. She hated smug bastards.
‘Are you implying I can’t drive?’ Her eyes narrowed. She drove an estate car so that her paintings fitted in the back. A smaller vehicle was not suitable – she’d tried it. However much she’d loved her Mini Cooper S in racing green, it had not been practical.
‘I can’t see why it’s so hard, but I’ll tell you what, I’ll stop leaving my truck here when you stop your damn cat from crapping in my front garden.’
‘My cat has a litter tray.’
‘Well, the thing isn’t using it!’ He slammed the remainder of the tools he held into the flatbed, and headed back up to his garage, cursing about cats.
How had this conversation gone from cars to cats? Idiot.
‘You’re such an arsehole!’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment!’ he called over his back, without turning round.
Maddy swore again, and forced the car into gear, crunching it with anger. ‘There is more than one cat in this close, you know!’ she shouted and sped off. Well, tried to. Her wheels spun with her quick release of the clutch and a bit too much throttle. And then her front tyre hit the kerb with the lack of turning space, making a rubber-scraping-concrete sound, angering Maddy further.
She loved her cat. Sookie was very affectionate, and Maddy liked how her little companion purred and greeted her when she got home. Her cat’s love was the only sort she got lately.
And it was enough. All she needed.
Harry was obnoxious and fancied himself. It seemed to her there wasn’t an affectionate bone in his body. If there was, it was probably buried under his bulk of muscle. Too cocksure, the way he flaunted himself – shirtless or with too tight a T-shirt. She hated men like that.
Bastard.
Look what the man did to her. She hadn’t stopped cursing since leaving her house. She felt red with rage, and probably looked it too. She feared it wouldn’t be the last time she’d have heated words with Harry.
Her thoughts whirred, mainly about the old man from across the road dying a few months after she’d moved in, and his elderly wife being put in a home by their children, and selling up. The house had been empty for nearly six months. She’d got into the habit of not really having to concentrate while manoeuvring her car off her own driveway. The old couple opposite had owned a vehicle but it had remained in the garage, the man being too ill to drive it.
She’d liked them as neighbours.
Now she had to put up with Harry and his monstrosity.
***
Harry slammed down his garage door. What was it about that woman?
Returning to his truck, he checked it over carefully, sure his neighbour, in her complete incompetence, had probably hit it before. He’d seen the lie in her eyes, the way she’d been unable to look at him, and more obviously, avoiding glancing at his chrome bumper.
He couldn’t see any marks, so maybe her car had come off worse. Well, serve her right. He paid his road tax, his pickup had as much right to be on this street as did her Ford estate.
A few deep breaths and he got into the cab of the truck. He was quoting for a new landscaping job today, and he didn’t want to be late. It was a big contract in Tinners Bay, an ex-holiday home in disrepair and the garden in similar state. With rain due later this afternoon the sooner he got started the better, but that woman had him so rattled he wondered if he needed to go back to the docs to check his meds.
Actually, let’s face it, he hadn’t got angry, more like sarcastic. Maybe his meds were working. Although frustrated, he felt positive – his whole world wasn’t closing in on him anymore. Even the nightmares had lessened. Karin played less on his mind. He’d get to work and feel better. Gardening was his new vice. You couldn’t stress about gardening really, unless you had a lawn to cut and rain was imminent, and even then it wasn’t a matter of life or death.
Unlike his old job.
To turn the truck, he reversed up his drive. As he was about to pull out, he noticed his neighbour’s front lawn needed cutting, and the bushes pruning … Even her blasted garden infuriates me. And there sat her black cat in the front window. Ha! His neighbour was probably a witch. Did she have green eyes? She certainly had the red hair … well, strawberry blonde his mother would call it. He narrowed his eyes at the cat. The thing was probably twiddling a whisker like some Doctor Evil, waiting for him to leave, so it could crap all over his front garden.
Being a landscape gardener, Harry took pride in his own garden – obviously. How else could he prove he was good at what he did? His own garden may be small but he made sure it showcased that he was good at his job. His intention was to build his business, then he could buy a larger property. That was the good thing about places like Padstow and Tinners Bay: there were plenty of holiday homes and second homes needing regular garden maintenance. Perfect for a landscape gardener starting up – he’d picked up quite a few contracts, and hopefully he’d pick up this one he was attending today.
Damn cats were the bane of his life. Even in the fire service, the amount of stupid cats he’d had to rescue stuck up a tree, or in some tight gap. He understood the saying curiosity killed the cat more than ever now. He would have been more than happy to release a well-aimed jet of water to get cats out of trees, but with an adoring owner watching you had to handle these matters with a lot more care.
Though, rescuing cats were the easy jobs … a calm before a storm. Others were much harder …
Harry gave himself a mental shake, bringing himself back to the present, and drove out of Annadale Close. His new home. His fresh start.
His neighbour would have to put up with his truck, if he was to put up with her annoying cat.
***
Maddy huffed and puffed, slamming the gallery door shut. Leaving her house in such an anxious state, she’d nearly had an accident at a roundabout, then followed a bloody camper van going at what felt like two miles an hour for most of the journey down the narrow country lanes to Tinners Bay, flaring her temper and impatience further. Sometimes, there was a downside to living in rural Cornwall.
‘What has got you in such a tizz?’ Valerie said, appearing from the back of the gallery with a steaming mug of coffee. ‘This is not a good start to your Wednesday.’ Valerie was Maddy’s colleague and surrogate aunt. She was always smartly dressed, today wearing a powder blue trouser-suit and cream blouse, smelled of Chanel No 5 perfume and wore her light-blonde hair in a fashionably short bob. Valerie had always been a friend of the family. Growing up, Maddy had known her as Auntie Val, and she could tell her things in confidence she couldn’t tell her own mother. When Valerie had moved to Tinners Bay with her new husband some years ago now, it had meant family holidays in Cornwall, which had developed Maddy’s love for the area.
Maddy gratefully took the cup and hugged it for comfort. ‘Oh, my bloody neighbour again. I nearly hit his truck. He’s got the sheer nerve to question my driving.’
‘Ah, yes, men.’ Valerie chuckled. ‘I assume you’re talking about the one built like a brick—’
‘Yes! That’s him.’ Maddy scowled.
‘How dare he strut about showing off his tanned, taut body,’ Valerie said, sarcastically, mischief and an air of envy in her eye. ‘I assume that’s what he’s been doing again?’
‘Yes, he had his shirt off! And at this time of the morning, too.’
‘It is the summer. It’s not a crime, Maddy,’ Valerie said, chuckling. ‘I wish I had a young hot neighbour I could drool over.’
‘Not funny, Val.’ Any other time, Maddy would have joined in and laughed with Valerie, but nothing could snap her out of her mood. Once Maddy got riled, it took a while for her rational thinking to return. ‘He’s vain and arrogant. He’s the worst bloody type. He’s been annoying the shit out of me for nearly three months, and today I had it out with him.’ She regretted she hadn’t said more now, and got the whole lot off her chest.
‘Okay, calm down.’ Valerie rested a reassuring hand on Maddy’s shoulder. ‘Talking about arrogance and vanity, have you heard any more from that ex of yours?’
Valerie’s grimace showed she couldn’t even bring herself to say his name. She never failed to express her disgust at how Connor had treated Maddy. Valerie had given Maddy the strength to leave him, too.
Maddy gently shook her head. ‘No, I think he’s got the message I don’t want him back in my life.’
For a couple of weeks now her phone had remained silent. No texts, no calls – not that she’d reply if he did. He’d said he was returning to Bristol. Thank goodness.
‘Good. The rage you’re in I thought it was him who’d caused it, but the less we hear about that man, the better. It’s about time he got the message and left you alone.’ Valerie’s expression softened. ‘Now, go and set yourself up at your easel for a couple of hours. That always puts you in a better frame of mind.’
Maddy nodded, then twisted up her hair into a messy bun. She’d come in her not so posh clothes today, opting for old three-quarter length jeans and a short-sleeved floral shirt already with acrylic paint marking it. The clothes were clean on, but you could never get the paint out once dried. Some days she sat at her easel working on a commission, or something just for her. She’d set up an area in her gallery so that people could come in and watch her paint. Funnily enough, this had been one of Connor’s good ideas. She found it helped sell paintings and got more commissions because it made her approachable to the customers.
Maddy loved painting landscapes and seascapes, and would often disappear to different parts of Cornwall, and sometimes even North Devon, for inspiration. But most of her commissions were houses, something she’d started specialising in when living in Bristol and working from her mother’s gallery in Clifton. She painted for those with cute cottages or beautiful thatched houses, wanting their homes transferred eternally on to canvas. Luckily, gorgeous houses were in abundance in Cornwall. She also did pets. However, she was at her happiest painting landscapes because she could add her own imaginative touches to those. It didn’t matter if she omitted a tree or added some flowers, whereas houses and pets you had to get right. Currently, she was working on a seascape which she’d started a few weeks ago, trying to escape her thoughts of Connor. She loved creating the energy of crashing waves, of white surf and its swirling movement – a great mood improver.
‘While it’s quiet, I might go upstairs for a bit,’ Valerie said. She couldn’t work in public like Maddy did. She liked to tuck herself away somewhere quiet, so she usually worked upstairs above the gallery. The space was smaller, but there was a window that gave enough natural light. She worked in the room where they stored all the extra paintings, ready to go up when another sold, or commissions to be collected. Valerie and Maddy worked so well together, able to give each other advice. They knew each other well enough not to get offended by any constructive criticism. ‘When is Josie in next?’ Valerie called down the stairs.
‘Tomorrow morning,’ Maddy replied. She’d employed Josie part-time, so Maddy and Valerie weren’t always stuck at the gallery – they needed a life too. But with the holiday season rapidly approaching, the gallery had to be open seven days a week. Josie worked her shifts around her college work and covered the weekends. In the summer holidays, she upped her hours further.
Maddy’s gallery exhibited a mixture of paintings from local artists – Josie being one of them. She did the same deal for them all; they were responsible for framing their work if necessary and she took thirty percent commission on anything sold. Some worked in pastel, some watercolours, oils, and like Maddy, acrylics. She even had a local photographer who sold his photographs in her gallery too. Maddy usually relied on Valerie’s expertise to help price the work. Tinners Bay attracted a mix of holidaymakers – some from wealthy areas of London, and some average families – so it was about setting the price right. Or having a good selection of affordable pieces and some more exclusive work.
This was to be her first full summer in Cornwall, and she needed to make it work. Setting up the gallery last year, coupled with the purchase of her new house, had eaten up all the funds she’d inherited from her grandfather, so now she really needed to pull in the money to survive. She did not want to return to her mother in Clifton with her tail between her legs.
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 her 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. It 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.’
‘Okay,’ Harry replied, frowning. Did he tell Collins what he’d seen? Would it get Maddy into trouble?
‘Did you see anything suspicious?’ Collins asked, as if reading Harry’s mind.
‘How do you mean?’ See what Collins had to say first.
‘I’m not supposed to say anything,’ Collins lowered his voice, ‘but it looks like it could have been arson. We could smell the mild scent of an accelerant. Do you think she …?’
Harry shook his head. ‘No, no, she didn’t do this. She’s stressed about her paintings and her cat and all sorts. You saw how hysterical she was. Did you manage to contain the fire?’
‘Yes, most of the damage is in the kitchen. Good job we got the call as early as we did,’ Collins said. ‘Otherwise it might have been a different story.’
‘I made the call. I saw the smoke coming out of the gap in her kitchen window. In fact, I smelled it first.’ As quick as a Beagle could pick up a scent, Harry would always smell smoke at the slightest whiff. ‘Unfortunately I couldn’t get in, otherwise I’d have tried to stop it from spreading.’
Collins nodded. ‘You did good calling when you did. Please don’t enter the house until the fire investigation officer has been. I suspect the police will leave someone outside all night to guard it as CSI won’t come till the morning now.’ Harry nodded back; he knew the procedure. ‘We’ll secure the back door for now the best we can, and tomorrow we’ll get it boarded up, so the house is secure. Has she got somewhere to stay the night?’
‘Yeah, I’ve offered to let her stay at mine.’
‘Always the hero.’ Collins slapped Harry on the back.
Harry gave a fake laugh. What had he got himself into? ‘By the way, you haven’t seen a cat have you – dead or alive?’
Collins chuckled. ‘A black one?’
‘Well it will look black if it’s burnt to death.’
‘Oh, it’s not dead.’ Collins pointed to a tree in Maddy’s neighbouring garden to the right. A small tree, but big enough to provide refuge for a cat. Sookie’s eyes reflected the light from the fire engines, making it easier for her to be spotted in the dimming light.
‘Ah, yes, thanks.’ Harry shook hands with Collins then walked over to the tree. Tiptoeing, Harry reached up and grabbed the cat out of the tree while it hissed at him.
‘Hey, I’m not happy about this either, girl.’ She stank of smoke, reminding him of the smell of soot. ‘Sweep would be a good name for you right now … or as you’re a girl, maybe Sue.’ She hissed and struggled, and when Harry held her more firmly, dug her claws into his arm. Resisting the urge to release the cat – or drop her – he rushed back to his house, one-handedly unlocking his front door, and as soon as he closed it, released the cat as she gave another hiss. Frowning, he rubbed the scratches along his forearms.
‘Sookie!’ Maddy picked up the cat, stroking her between the ears. The cat purred and rubbed its head against Maddy, its mood changing immediately. ‘Where have you been, young lady? You smell like an old pub ashtray.’
Harry noticed Maddy brighten too, stroking her cat, so it purred and meowed more. He’d rescued many animals in his time, handing them over to relieved owners. Even the times when needing rescuing had been the stupid animal’s fault, to see the happiness and relief of pet and owner being reunited always softened Harry’s heart – he just never let his colleagues know it. Setting aside his dislike for cats as a landscape gardener, the cat being alive was a positive thing for Maddy. ‘I’ll get her some food.’
Back in his kitchen, he searched his cupboards. What did he have that a cat would eat? He found a can of tuna and opened it, draining the brine down the sink. He forked out a little on a saucer and placed it on the kitchen floor. In another saucer, he placed water. He put the rest of the can in the fridge. It could be the cat’s breakfast.
The cat ate hungrily, purring loudly.
‘I’ve got some sand in the garage. I’ll sort out a litter tray for tonight as she can’t go back outside until it’s safe.’
‘Thank you,’ Maddy said, smiling at Harry for the first time. Her eyes were still red and puffy where she’d been crying, and sadness shadowed them, but she certainly appeared calmer now he’d found her cat alive and well.
‘Hey, this is what neighbours are for, right?’
Harry found a seed tray, lined it with a carrier bag, and filled it with some sand. He placed this too in the kitchen. He really was doing his good deeds for the day, allowing a feline pest into his house. It had better not scratch his furniture.
Karin had liked cats. Maybe that was another reason why he hated them.
Don’t think about Karin.
He rubbed the back of his neck, taking in a deep breath, then breathed out slowly.
‘Right, time for a top up on your drink,’ he said, reaching for the two spirit bottles and grabbing the orange juice out of the fridge. He gestured for Maddy to sit in the lounge. She held out her glass while he poured her another large measure of vodka, then poured himself another Jack Daniels. Harry needed to think of a way to break it to Maddy about her house, so she was prepared for tomorrow.
Maddy sat rigidly on the edge of the sofa, obviously in a stranger’s house and unable to relax. Harry found himself doing the same in the opposite armchair.
‘You can relax, Maddy. I don’t bite, you know,’ Harry said, sitting back in the seat. ‘And I don’t mind you staying the night – unless you have somewhere else you’d prefer to go?’
She shook her head. ‘No, I haven’t. While you were fetching Sookie, I phoned my friend Valerie, and there was no answer. I didn’t want to leave her a distressed message either. Also, I think I’ve had too much vodka to drive myself anywhere even if I did.’
He would have offered to drive her, however, he was likely over the limit as well now. ‘It’s probably easier if you stay here. You can’t go back in the house until the fire brigade have finished assessing the damage.’ A fire investigation usually meant there could be something suspicious, and Collins had pretty much confirmed it, too – but maybe Harry shouldn’t worry Maddy with that detail yet? She was going to find it hard to sleep as it was. ‘But at least you’re on site so you can talk to them tomorrow.’
‘I hope I don’t get burgled now. That would be just my luck.’
‘There’s a police car parked outside. They’ll watch the house all night.’ Did he confess to her tonight that they were treating it like a crime scene?
‘Really, they do that?’
‘Yeah, sometimes.’ Harry’s guilt increased. But Maddy would need to try and sleep. She’d been through enough this evening.
Maddy took another gulp of her drink. ‘Thank you, you’ve been really kind. I’m sorry I was such a mess earlier. I’m not usually violent.’
‘I might have a few bruises to show for my heroic actions.’
‘I am so sorry.’ Maddy wouldn’t meet his eye, and silence fell between them. As if on cue, Sookie emerged from the kitchen licking her lips. Tail raised, she trotted over to Maddy, who timidly smiled and stroked the top of her head.
‘Do you feel better now, girl?’ Maddy cooed. The cat jumped into her lap, and whilst purring, licked her paws and then set about routinely cleaning herself. Maddy sat back a little deeper into Harry’s sofa and looked almost comfortable.
‘Well, at least you know your cat is safe,’ Harry said, finding it hard to know what to say. The woman’s house had been set on fire – possibly deliberately. He started thinking about how much damage smoke could do. He wouldn’t worry Maddy unnecessarily. No point until they knew what they were facing. No one had died, so that was always a positive in his line of work — when it had been his line of work, that is. Now he only had to worry about plants dying. But lifting Maddy into that carry had given him a buzz. Seeing the action unfold as the fire engines had arrived, sirens blaring, blue lights flashing; a part of him missed his firefighting days, missed the adrenalin rush. However, he knew he was no good to his colleagues in the field. One bad day, and he’d freeze, flashbacks would paralyse him, and he’d be no good to anyone. In fact, he’d be a danger to himself and others.
Karin’s death would always haunt him.
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.
