From Heartache To Forever. Caroline Anderson

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      Was it those words, or was it just that the fates had finished playing Russian roulette with him?

      Whatever, the agent showed him a whole bunch of stuff, none of which appealed, and then said, very carefully, ‘There is something else. It was for sale but it didn’t shift, so the owner got tenants in and they’ve done a runner and left it in a state, but he’s disabled and can’t afford to pay someone to sort it out, so if you didn’t mind rolling up your sleeves I’m sure I could negotiate a discount. It’s a great place, or it could be. It’s a three-bed bungalow on Ferry Lane, overlooking the marshes and the harbour, and you can see the boats on the river in the distance.’

      The river? He could feel his pulse pick up. ‘Does it have a drive?’

      ‘Oh, yes, and a double garage and a big garden. They had a dog so the house smells a bit, but with a good clean and a tidy-up…’

      ‘Can I see it?’ he asked, impatient now, because it sounded perfect, doggy or not, and he’d grown up with dogs.

      The agent glanced at his watch. ‘I can’t take you today, I’m on my own here, and I’m out of the office until eleven tomorrow, but I can give you the key. I take it you’re trustworthy?’

      Ryan laughed. ‘I think so. After all, what can I do to it that the tenants haven’t? Apart from clean it?’

      ‘Good point. Here. And take my card and give me a call.’

      ‘I will. Thanks.’

      He hefted the key in his hand, slid it into his pocket and headed back to the car, cruising slowly along the clifftop before turning onto Ferry Lane and checking out the numbers. And there it was, a tired-looking bungalow set back at the top of a long concrete drive with weeds growing in the cracks.

      Uninspiring, to say the least, and it didn’t get better as he went up the drive, but as he got out of the car he caught sight of the view and felt peace steal over him.

      He slid the key into the lock, went through the front door and was confronted by multi-coloured chaos.

      The agent was right, it did smell of dog, the kitchen and bathroom were filthy, and the garden was a jungle, but every time he looked out of a window and saw the river in the distance his heart beat a little faster.

      It might be awful now, but with a good scrub, the carpets cleaned and the grass cut, it would be transformed. Oh, and about a vat and a half of white paint to cover the lurid walls and calm it all down. All he had to do was roll up his sleeves and get stuck in.

      He pulled out his phone and rang the agent.

      ‘I’ll take it,’ he said, and the man laughed.

      ‘I thought you might. Your eyes lit up when I mentioned the river.’

      ‘Yup.’ He laughed. ‘So, where do we go from here? It’s just that I am in quite a hurry, I start work on Monday. Is there any danger we can sort it by then?’

      ‘Yes, we can do it today. We’re open until seven tonight. If you come in at six, that’ll give me time to get it all sorted.’

      So he rang Beth, although he hadn’t meant to, and told her about it.

      ‘Where is it?’

      ‘Just up Ferry Lane on the left. It’s number eleven.’

      ‘Are you still there?’

      ‘Yes—why?’

      ‘Can I come? I’m only round the corner and I have to see this.’

      He laughed. ‘Sure. You’ll be shocked, it’s pretty dire, but I’ll get my body weight in cleaning materials and paint and it’ll be fine.’

      ‘It can’t be that bad.’

      He just laughed again, and went outside to wait for her.