Meet Me at Wisteria Cottage. Teresa Morgan F.

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ 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 СКАЧАТЬ