The Love Trilogy: Room For Love / An A To Z Of Love / Summer Of Love. Sophie Pembroke

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ so we didn’t stay.”

      Nate closed his eyes for a moment. Of course Jacob’s unreliable ex would flake out on them today. “I assure you, Jacob is usually—”

      “Izzie said it happens all the time.”

      “Izzie was mistaken.” Nate bit the words out, already planning the talk he was going to have with the receptionist. Nancy had to have left him the grounds for a reason and, so far, the best he could come up with was to make sure that he stayed here to help Carrie. Or, the thought had come late one night, to stop her, if she tried to change too much about what made the Avalon home for so many people.

      They had to stand together, now Nancy wasn’t there to stand for them. And Izzie needed to get on side, quick.

      “Why don’t we head upstairs, then?” he suggested, and Carrie nodded. “Great.” Nate shepherded her in the direction of the stairs. “I’m not sure how well you know the inn,” he said, desperate to change the subject.

      Carrie made a noise that was almost a snort. “I practically grew up here.”

      Which didn’t explain why she hadn’t been back since he’d arrived, Nate thought. Didn’t explain why she hadn’t been there when Nancy got sick.

      He pushed the thoughts away. He had to work with this woman—for now, anyway.

      None of them knew what she had planned here. They were all nervous; the Seniors most of all. They had the most to lose, Nate supposed. If Carrie Archer decided to sell the inn or turn it into flats, or any other inconceivable idea, he’d get by. He’d work for the new owners, if they wanted him, or he’d get a new job. He still got offers often enough. People who wanted to be able to show off their new garden and say, ‘Oh, yes. We got that chap who used to be on the telly to sort it for us. You know, the Singing Gardener.’ At least, the ones who didn’t mind the fact that he hadn’t had a programme in almost two years. He’d manage well enough, he supposed.

      Only he didn’t want to ‘manage’. The Avalon Inn had become home, from the moment he’d pitched up on Nancy’s doorstep and said, “Remember me?” Nancy had let him in, made him hot chocolate and sent Izzie to make him up a bed in the summerhouse. That was two years ago too. He’d headed straight to Wales from the meeting with the producers, the meeting where he’d said, ‘No, no more. Enough. I want to do it my way.’ He hadn’t really expected them to decide his way wasn’t good enough.

      He didn’t want to leave the Avalon Inn, even if it felt strange every single morning, heading up to the house and not finding Nancy drinking coffee in her office or berating Jacob in the kitchen. But he didn’t want it to change, either. It was comfortable. It was home. And Nate liked it just the way it was.

      Which meant he had to work with Carrie Archer to keep it that way.

      “Well, if you know the inn then you’ll know we’ve got twelve bedrooms here, each individually decorated. Shall we start at the eastern-most end?” he suggested.

      The bedrooms didn’t meet with Carrie’s approval, either. By the time they reached number twelve, the largest of the rooms, her renovations list stretched onto its sixth page, and Nate could feel a serious headache building behind his eyes.

      “It’s not what you were expecting,” he said, watching Carrie add bridal suite—total makeover! to her list.

      Carrie sighed. “It’s just there’s such a lot to do.”

      Nate thought, not for the first time that afternoon, it might be better for all of them if Carrie Archer just sold up and left. Why bother keeping the inn if she planned to destroy everything that made it Nancy’s Avalon?

      Except Nancy had left him here to stop that, hadn’t she? And he owed Nancy, even now she was gone. He couldn’t just walk away. Not until he’d repaid Nancy for all she’d given him.

      She’d nailed his feet to the floor, and he was damn sure she’d known exactly what she was doing when she wrote the bloody will. She wanted him to settle down.

      After all this time, he’d thought she’d have known he wasn’t the settling type.

      The rickety stairs up to Nancy’s bedroom gave out ominous creaks under their feet, but for once Carrie didn’t comment. Didn’t say anything at all until they were enclosed in the stuffy attic room, the autumn sunlight creeping through the window and making the dust motes glow.

      “I haven’t been up here in years,” Carrie said, touching each of Nancy’s trinkets and treasures in turn as she moved around the cluttered room. When she reached the bed and spotted her bag in the middle of it, she stopped and looked over at the window and the dressing table instead.

      It felt strange to see another woman in Nancy’s space, Nate realised. He’d never expected, when he arrived at the Avalon, that he’d spend much time in the cramped attic Nancy had chosen for herself. Quite aside from the fact that he had to duck his head just to stand in there, he’d never felt very comfortable in such a personal space. Still, towards the end, Nancy had grown more and more tired in the afternoons, but remained too stubborn to succumb to the idea of afternoon naps. Instead, she’d called work meetings in her room, lounging on top of the jewel-coloured patchwork bedspread while Nate folded himself into the white wicker chair at her dressing table, taking notes on all the things she wanted done around the inn.

      And her family hadn’t noticed she was ill. Not even her beloved granddaughter.

      “I don’t imagine it’s changed much,” he said, staring at the string of silver bells hanging from the window frame.

      Carrie’s head jerked up at his words, but Nate could tell she didn’t really see him. Her attention flicked away again, drawn to a photo on Nancy’s dressing table, a picture of a child in a summer meadow. Carrie, he assumed.

      “She loved that photo,” Nate said, feeling something catch at the back of his throat.

      “It was the most perfect day.” Carrie’s voice sounded very far away. “We chased butterflies through the field and had ice cream on the terrace. Just me and her. She even let me use the cut-glass cocktail glasses for ice-cream bowls.”

      Suddenly, unexpectedly, Nate realised he might have something in common with Carrie Archer after all. She missed her grandmother. Maybe even as much as he did.

      “I’m sorry,” Nate said. He stepped closer to her automatically, though he stopped himself from reaching out to touch her.

      But then, he didn’t move away, either.

      “Why didn’t you call us?” Carrie’s question was abrupt, and Nate could hear real pain in her voice, this time. “When she got sick. We could have...”

      “She didn’t want anyone to know.” Nate’s jaw felt tight, making him force the words out. “She didn’t want...pity, I suppose. She wanted to face it alone.”

      “She let you help,” Carrie said, sounding bitter.

      Nate shrugged. “I’m paid staff. It’s different.” He sighed, and tried to find the right words to explain. “You know what she was like. She didn’t want to interrupt your lives with her problems.”

      “You should have told us anyway.”

      The СКАЧАТЬ