Meet Me at Wisteria Cottage. Teresa Morgan F.
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Название: Meet Me at Wisteria Cottage
Автор: Teresa Morgan F.
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9780008225339
isbn:
Her mother had brought her up properly not to be a snoop. Or was it Dad?
‘I’m finished in the bathroom,’ Maddy called down the stairs, then closed the bedroom door behind her.
Under the watchful eye of Sookie curled up on the bed, Maddy stripped off her clothes, neatly piling them up and buttoned up the shirt Harry had given her. It may have been too small for Harry, but luckily on Maddy’s petite form, although long in the arms, it covered her bottom nicely making a good night shirt. If caught out in the middle of the night using the bathroom, at least she’d still keep some of her dignity.
She slid underneath the duvet, and once comfortable turned off the lamp by the bed. She was in darkness until her eyes adjusted to the street lighting that bled between the curtains.
She closed her eyes and listened, hearing Harry leave the bathroom, pulling the cord to turn the light off, and the sound of the toilet cistern refilling. All normal sounds, and not dissimilar to her own home’s, yet she tensed, feeling alien and uncomfortable. She was sleeping in a stranger’s bed. A man she’d hated this morning. Sookie didn’t seem bothered, so maybe Maddy needed to take a leaf out of her cat’s book and try to sleep. Things would look better in the morning, wouldn’t they?
***
With the taste of the pills he’d just swallowed still on his tongue, Harry closed the bathroom door as quietly as he could. He winced, pulling a face. Would he ever get used to those things? Usually he swallowed them, then cleaned his teeth to disguise their chalky, rancid taste. But with everything running around his brain, aware he had a house guest and wondering whether she was comfortable and settled, he’d forgotten to take his medication until he was about to leave the bathroom.
Harry found the spare duvet in the junk room of bedroom three. It really was the ‘box room’, the amount of boxes he still had stacked up. Too small for a bedroom, one day it would be his study. One day. He needed to find the strength to sort through the boxes. He knew there would be some memorabilia, photos that would remind him of Karin. He wasn’t ready for to face them yet.
Having grabbed some bed linen from the airing cupboard, he made up his bed on the larger of his sofas. In the past, he’d slept well on this sofa, as a fireman and working shifts and not wanting to wake Karin. Only in a different house … their house … Nowadays, his medication made him drowsy, so he’d sleep better than Maddy’s cat on this sofa tonight.
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.
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.
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