Название: Coming Home to Wishington Bay
Автор: Maxine Morrey
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежный юмор
isbn: 9780008329112
isbn:
Oddly enough, I was a little offended, although I wasn’t entirely sure why. ‘Well! That’s a relief!’ I huffed out.
‘And, by the way, you don’t have a right to be here. I think you and your solicitor pals need to do some swotting up on your squatters’ rights. So, if you really have called the police on me, and don’t want to get arrested yourself, I’d get moving.’
‘I beg your pardon – my what? Do I look like a squatter?’ I asked, palms to the sky. ‘This is my house.’
‘Well, now I know you’re lying. This place belongs to Betty Gardner’s granddaughter, Holly.’
‘That’s me.’
‘She’s blonde. Gigi showed me a picture. Nice try, sweetheart.’
‘It’s called peroxide, sweetheart. I went back to my natural colour eighteen months ago!’
Why on earth was I stood on my patio, in my underwear, explaining myself to this man?
He took a couple of steps toward me, slowly, his brow wrinkling.
‘Holly?’
I stood up straighter, crossing my arms back over my chest. ‘I seem to be at a disadvantage.’
‘I’m …’ A fleeting frown crossed his brow. ‘I was Gigi’s neighbour, Gabe McKinley.’
He must have assumed I’d popped up from the cabbage patch if he thought I was going to buy that one. ‘Ha! I don’t think so,’ I said, laughing. ‘I mean, nice try, but I know for a fact that my grandmother’s neighbour was a respectable local doctor, not some surf-dude handyman. I don’t know what you want but I think it’s best if you leave now before I really do call the police.’
‘You mean you haven’t already?’
‘I was busy checking that you hadn’t killed yourself on my patio.’
‘Actually, the half I ended up on is mine.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Oh, of course. And just why were you painting my window frames? Surely as a doctor you have plenty more important things to be getting on with.’ I made sure to emphasise the word ‘doctor’.
‘I have the weekend off, and I’m painting them because I made a promise to Gigi that I’d look after the house for her for as long as it was necessary. She told me she’d left it to you but didn’t know if, or when, you’d use it. It’s been empty for months and the frames needed repainting. I did half last weekend and thought I’d get the rest done today.’ He paused and looked at me directly with eyes the colour of a Mediterranean summer sky. ‘I’m sorry if I frightened you. If I’d realised you were here, I’d have let you know. It’s just that it’s been so long, I really didn’t expect anyone. I just assumed you had no interest in—’
‘I do have an interest in it!’ I snapped, cutting him off.
But he was right, and it was that knowledge that was making me extra snappy. It had been too long. My grandmother had passed away early last summer, a little over a year ago now. We’d just spent a week together in London and had the most wonderful time. Two days later, I’d had a call from my brother to say that she’d passed away in her sleep. It was another three days before I stopped crying. For the first time in ten years, bar a couple of holidays, I’d taken a few days off work and sobbed practically the entire time.
My grandmother was the one person in the world I had felt totally understood me. And now she was gone. The reason I hadn’t come back to Wishington Bay before was not because it held little interest for me, but entirely the opposite – because it meant so very much. The walls themselves were infused with all the happy memories and laughter and love that being with Gigi, as I called my grandmother – she was far too glamorous to have ever settled for something as ordinary as “Gran” – created. It was beyond painful to know that she was gone and that no more of those memories would ever be made and if I was honest, I knew I still hadn’t come to terms with losing her. And this stranger – whoever he claimed to be – had the cheek to stand there and say that I had no interest! He knew absolutely nothing about me. Except what my underwear looked like, of course.
‘Look. I don’t know who you are, but I think it’s best you leave.’
‘I’ve told you who I am.’
I glanced over at him and rolled my eyes.
‘Oh. Yes. The doctor. Right.’
Honestly, he couldn’t have looked less like a doctor if he’d tried. His dark blond hair was streaked where the sun had kissed it, not to mention in need of a good cut. Glancing around at his side of the house, I could see a surfboard propped up and there had definitely not been a car in the driveway last night when I’d got here. I mean, what doctor didn’t have a car?
I blew out a sigh and looked up at him. He looked back at me with those intense eyes again. I met his gaze. For a moment my mind drifted as I considered that had this been a different situation I might well have agreed with anything he said. He could have told me the moon was made of cheese and I’d have happily handed him a cracker. I gave myself a mental shake. Looks weren’t everything. I was the last person who needed to be told that. The fact that he was so downright gorgeous was my first reason for not trusting him as far as I could throw him. And bearing in mind he had about a foot in height on me and looked to weigh about twice as much as I did, that wasn’t likely to be very far at all.
‘Right. Perhaps if you’d come down to visit Gigi occasionally, we might have been introduced.’
His voice had a tone to it that I didn’t appreciate.
‘I did visit her! I spent plenty of time with her, thank you. It just often worked better if it was in London, rather than down here.’
‘Worked better for whom?’
I glared at him, astounded by the absolute cheek of this man.
‘You think it was better for an elderly lady to get onto trains and travel up to the city than for you to get in your swanky car and drive a couple of hours?’
‘How dare you! Gigi loved coming up to town. And I didn’t want to put her out by coming here. And if you really had known her at all, you’d also know that describing her as an elderly lady would definitely not have been the path to her good books.’
He paused a beat. ‘OK, fair enough. I did actually say something along those lines once and she didn’t talk to me for two days, so I’ll give you that one.’
I made a sort of huffing noise that told him how grateful I was to have been bestowed such an honour.
‘But as for the rest? You can keep telling yourself that, but those journeys took it out of her. You never saw her when she got back.’ He shook his head and bent to pick up the empty can that had once held paint for the window frames. ‘I’ll finish the painting when you’ve gone.’
‘Don’t СКАЧАТЬ