Читать книгу Winter at West Sands Guest House: A debut feel-good heart-warming romance perfect for 2018 - Maggie Conway - Страница 8

Chapter One

Eva Harris wasn’t spying, not exactly. It was more a case of taking a healthy interest in her new neighbours. She’d almost jumped for joy when the removal van had pulled up earlier. During the afternoon she’d taken several breaks from her painting, lingering at the window with mugs of tea, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever had moved in.

It must have been one of the most efficient removals ever – the van appeared to have come and gone in record time and apart from the removal men Eva hadn’t seen anyone. Even now all was quiet, a sleek black car in the driveway the only evidence anyone had moved in.

Eva hated not having neighbours. She found the silence from next door unsettling. The house – known affectionately as Mac’s place – had lain empty, ever since Moira and Donald MacKenzie had decided to sell up and cruise around the world before moving into a bungalow to accommodate Donald’s arthritis. Tempted as she was to rush round to welcome her new neighbours, she held off. She knew moving day could be hectic and it was probably better to give whoever it was time to settle in.

From where she stood at a bedroom window on her first floor, Eva looked out onto the harbour and beyond that to the expanse of sea. Even now in October, St Andrews was a beautiful place to live. Being close to the university, Eva was used to seeing students coming and going along the cobbled streets. Tonight though, everyone was huddled up against the rain, hurrying to wherever they had to go.

Turning from the window, Eva rested her hands on her hips and admired the silky finish of the duck egg blue wall she had just painted. Listening to the radio as the rain lashed against the window, she’d been happy to be indoors today and even happier that she had managed to paint the whole room despite all her neighbour-spotting activity.

Eva loved running her small guest house and even though visitors came to St Andrews all year round, she closed during the winter months. This gave her time to take care of any maintenance and freshen up the rooms. But more importantly it gave her time to be with her son Jamie and it let them have the house to themselves without guests.

Looking at the time she realized he should be home by now, even allowing for his football after school. She pulled her phone from the back pocket of her dungarees but there were no messages from him. She resisted the urge to phone and check where he was.

Eva was convinced when she gave birth to Jamie a worry bead had been planted in her brain at the same time. Whatever the stage – teething, feeding, learning to read or to cross the road safely – Eva was always capable of imagining the worst-case scenario and only her constant vigilance prevented disaster. Each milestone brought its joys of course but also a new set of anxieties for Eva. Jamie was almost twelve now; the teenage years were looming large and the thought terrified her.

Starting high school had been a big change not just for Jamie but Eva too. With his new routine and all the after-school activities, she knew she had to give him a bit of independence but she’d been holding the reins of motherhood so tightly for so long it was difficult to let go. She wondered if she should phone Heather to see if she’d heard from Fraser. She could bet wherever Fraser was, Jamie would be two steps away.

When Jamie had come home after his first day at primary school and announced he had a new best friend called Fraser, Eva was more than relieved to meet his mum, Heather. Like their sons, their friendship had been instant and enduring. When Eva had admitted to her excessive – bordering neurotic – worrying, Heather had taken it in her stride. To this day Eva had never seen her friend stressed despite having three boisterous sons.

Heather had seen most things at least once and over the years Eva had called upon her expertise several times. When Jamie got his finger stuck in a bottle, kept bringing home bugs, or had decided jumping off furniture was fun, Heather reassured her that was what boys did. The only thing Heather hadn’t managed to bestow on Eva was the ability to relax, at least not without alcohol being involved. Eva loved spending time at her friend’s chaotic home but never knew if it was because of the easy atmosphere or because of her friend’s willingness to produce a bottle of wine at any time for any reason.

No, she wouldn’t phone Heather. She’d only remind her – again – they were lucky living in a small safe community, they’d agreed the boys were old enough to walk home from high school themselves, and they’d be home soon.

Swallowing the familiar tug of anxiety in her stomach, Eva took a deep breath and started tidying up. She placed the lid back on the paint pot, put the brushes in a jar of water, and went over in her head what she still had to do. Tomorrow she could start to put the furniture back in place and then give everything a good clean.

Eva was using a small ceramic seahorse sculpture as her inspiration to give the room a coastal feel. A couple of patterned navy cushions for the armchair and a beautiful driftwood mirror she’d found in a craft shop would provide the finishing touches.

She’d certainly come a long way in the seven years since she’d taken over West Sands guest house. When she’d moved in, the existing rooms were functional but drab. At school the only subject Eva had ever really enjoyed was art and she had discovered a real passion for interiors and decorating. Realizing she had a choice to either pay someone to do the work or learn how to do itself, she chose the latter.

She’d enrolled in a painting and decorating course at a local college for one day a week that fitted in with Jamie’s school hours and after that she’d kept going, learning with books, online courses, and a lot of trial and error. Now she was able to tackle most jobs herself and loved it so much – dreaming up colour combinations or imagining how textures might work in a room and then putting all her ideas into practice – she sometimes thought she’d missed her calling.

She liked to give each room an individual feel but it was also important to keep things fairly neutral and, above all, comfortable. The other two guest rooms wouldn’t be decorated this year, just a thorough clean and a check everything was in working order. She folded the stepladders, propped them against the wall, and clicked off the radio just in time to hear the front door bang shut.

‘Mum?’ Eva felt herself relax at the sound of her son’s voice.

‘Up here! I’ll be down in a sec.’ Wiping her hands on her dungarees Eva headed downstairs, almost being knocked down by Hamish as he hurtled down after her. The reality of having a (literally barking mad) dog was proving to be very different from the one Eva imagined when she had finally given in to Jamie’s constant pleading. Eva could think of a hundred reasons why not to get a dog but Jamie’s single reason – he wanted a dog because he didn’t have a brother or sister – trumped hers. Really, how could she refuse?

Dogs and guests weren’t necessarily an ideal mix but Eva, always on the lookout for new target markets, had an idea and one she hoped would be a sound business move. Her master plan was to become a dog-friendly guest house. With its beautiful beaches and coastal paths, St Andrews was the ideal destination for dog lovers and she could tap into that. She’d have to look into it properly before the start of next season, find out about any legal requirements and change her website and marketing so guests would know she welcomed dogs.

‘You’ll have to train the dog properly and it won’t be allowed in the kitchen,’ she’d said to Jamie for the hundredth time as they had driven to the rescue centre.

‘I promise, Mum,’ he had replied solemnly. Jamie had fallen in love on sight with the mournful eyes of a scruffy brown and white crossbreed staring at him through the bars of a cage. Eva liked that he was small and – according to the lovely lady at the rescue centre – would be easy to train. That had been four weeks ago and so far, easy wasn’t a word Eva would use.

In the hall, Eva ignored the trail of bags, jumpers, and football boots for now. Her eleven-year-old son’s tendency to go into a strop didn’t need any encouragement the minute he walked through the door. She found Jamie in the living room, his blond hair askew and long gangly limbs sprawled on the sofa with Hamish darting about ecstatically to welcome him home. Although Jamie shared Eva’s fair colouring, at times he looked so like Paul it broke her heart and all Eva wanted was to wrap her arms around him the way she had always done. But eleven was an awkward age. Sometimes still her little boy who needed reassurance but also an aspiring adult who didn’t always welcome hugs from his mum.

‘Hi, sweetheart. How was school?’ Eva asked him.

‘Fine,’ he replied using his standard response to most questions these days as he ruffled Hamish’s ears. The days of waiting at the primary school gates with other parents, swapping and verifying information before walking home while Jamie chatted non-stop already felt like a distant memory to Eva. It was early days, she reminded herself. There was so much for him to take in and he was bound to communicate more when he was ready. Overcome with excitement, Hamish suddenly leapt onto the sofa beside Jamie.

‘Off the sofa, Hamish!’ Eva yelled.

‘Mu-um! That’s not the right voice remember? You’re supposed to use a firm but calm voice,’ Jamie said, mimicking Mrs Duffy from puppy training class.

Eva grimaced apologetically. ‘You’re right, I’m sorry.’

Jamie rolled off the sofa, giggling with delight as Hamish jumped on top of him and began slobbering all over his face. ‘Hamish – yeuch!’ he cried.

Eva grinned at them, relishing the moments when getting a dog did actually make sense.

‘So, did you have a good game of football?’ Eva asked.

‘Nah, our team lost,’ Jamie sniffed.

Sports mad like his father had been – Eva always felt a disappointment for not getting excited about penalty shoot-outs or understanding offside. She’d coped with the dinosaur stage, learning the difference between a T Rex and a stegosaurus. She’d actually enjoyed mastering the techniques to build bridges and cars from Lego and she even knew every character from Star Wars. But she had never managed to grasp the intricacies of The Beautiful Game. Of course if Paul was here, they could talk football father to son, the way it should be.

‘I expected you home before now.’ Eva tried to keep her voice neutral.

‘It’s no big deal, Mum – we were just chatting a bit after the game,’ Jamie retorted, wiping an arm across his dirt-streaked face.

‘I don’t have a problem with that. But how about a text next time? Just to let me know if you’re going to be later. We agreed if you got a mobile phone you would keep in touch.’ Eva wondered how many times she had given the ‘keep in touch’ speech. Even she was fed up with the sound of her own voice saying the same thing over and over.

Their wrestling match now over, Jamie got up from the floor while Hamish, tired out by his exertions, flopped dramatically on the floor.

‘Mum?’ Jamie came and stood beside Eva, almost the same height as her now, his blue eyes fixing her with a challenging stare. ‘Have you thought about it yet?’

Eva’s heart sank. ‘Er, not properly yet.’

‘I need to let them know by next week. All my friends are going; I’ll be the only one not going,’ he pleaded, his face settling into a petulant pout.

‘I know that, but –’

‘Then why can’t I go?’ he demanded.

‘Let me think about it and I promise we’ll talk later, okay?’ She knew she was stalling. But how could she just say yes to a trip that meant her son would be hurling himself off cliffs, diving into water and God knows what else. The weekend trip, organized by his football club, might promise to be a great team-bonding adventure but the very thought of it made Eva come out in a cold sweat. And she wasn’t sure how she would cope with him being away. Apart from the odd sleepover she’d never been separated from him. Eva could almost hear Paul’s voice telling her not to worry, just to relax and let him go. But he wasn’t here now and it was all down to her.

Eva plumped up a pillow, switching to a safer topic. ‘Are you hungry?’ Jamie’s face broke into the cheeky grin she knew so well and Eva felt her heart melt. ‘Why don’t you pick up your things in the hall and go for a shower and I’ll get something ready to eat.’

‘Okay.’ He slouched off but stopped and turned at the door. ‘I meant to say – I saw a light on in Mac’s place when I was coming home.’

Eva nodded. ‘There was a removal van there earlier today. The new people have moved in.’

‘Who will it be?’

Eva smiled at how young he could suddenly sound, as if she would always have the answers. ‘I don’t know. But I guess we’d better stop calling it Mac’s place.’

Eva heard Jamie and Hamish thundering up the stairs as she went into the kitchen to heat the lasagne she had made earlier. Switching on the oven, she wondered how her new neighbours were and hoped everything was going well for whoever it was. After all, she knew how difficult moving day could be.

***

A cold January day, it had snowed the day Eva and Jamie moved in to West Sands guest house. It had been the day her confidence had suddenly crumbled and she questioned whether she could really do this. As she unlocked the door to their new home, Jamie was sobbing miserably with a streaming cold and Eva could have quite easily dissolved into a pool of tears herself. Suddenly it all seemed such a grown-up thing to do, move into a big house and be responsible for it all, not something a twenty-six-year-old widow with a young child could do.

After her husband Paul had died, everyone seemed to have an opinion as to what Eva should now do with her life, not least her mother. Although she had been visibly upset at Paul’s funeral – he was impossible not to like – Eva had sensed a quiet sense of satisfaction from her that it had all gone wrong just as she’d predicted.

She had wasted no time in seizing her chance. ‘Come home, darling. Let me look after you.’ Which in Helen Devine’s language translated to ‘let me take over your life again’. The way she had when Eva lived at home. Sometimes it had felt as if her mother had controlled Eva’s whole life. Suggesting suitable friends, the right clothes to wear, or where to go on holiday.

From the depths of her despair Eva managed to look up just enough to see her mother’s clutches coming towards her and knew she had to act quickly. Her priority was finding somewhere she and Jamie could feel safe and rebuild their lives together. But she also had to think of a way of supporting them in the future.

Randomly searching the internet for property, she stumbled on one for sale in St Andrews already being run as a guest house. Eva remembered one of her favourite childhood games of playing hotels and felt something stir within her. Could she turn that fantasy from all those years ago into a reality? A business that would let her be self-sufficient and be there for her young son – it sounded perfect.

The money from Paul’s life insurance meant she was able to put in an offer and when it was accepted, Eva was elated and horrified all at the same time. Helen’s reaction to her daughter’s idea had been less idealistic. ‘Do you like plunging toilets and cleaning carpet stains?’ she had asked. With her mother’s caustic words ringing in her head, Eva stood in the hall that first day trying to comfort Jamie, terrified she had made a huge mistake. Overwhelmed and exhausted, Eva had a sudden desire to crawl into a warm bed and sleep for a week.

And then out of that dark moment, Moira MacKenzie appeared at the door like a beacon of light, bringing hope – and a pot of home-made soup – to Eva. Wearing layers of bright clothes, her copper-red hair piled haphazardly on top of her head and bangles jangling at her wrists, something about her presence immediately put Eva at ease.

She’d felt guilty for doing it, but it was impossible not to compare Moira to her own mother. Of course Eva knew her mother loved her. But it was a neatly wrapped kind of love that came with air kisses. She wasn’t the type of woman who made you want to lose yourself in a big-bosomed hug the way Moira MacKenzie did.

Moira and her husband Donald were both retired academics and ran a second-hand bookshop in St Andrews. The two women chatted comfortably as Moira helped Eva to unpack and settle Jamie into his new room. Eva wasn’t sure if they would have made it through those first few days without her and had counted her lucky stars a thousand times over the years that the MacKenzies were her neighbours. Kind, caring, and just a tiny bit eccentric. Eva loved them. Although their own children had grown and left, their house was always full of grandchildren and friends coming and going.

Eva’s heart sank the day Moira told her the house had been sold. A few weeks later Eva tearfully waved them off, happy for them but secretly wishing things didn’t have to change. The house had lain empty for a few weeks and it had been difficult to see it sitting silently. It was only then Eva realized just how much she had depended on the MacKenzies’ presence next door. How since they had left, a sense of loneliness seemed to have engulfed her.

***

What kind of an idiot buys a house without seeing it first? An idiot like me, thought Ben Matthews knocking back a couple of painkillers with a mouthful of coffee. Leaning against the window he looked out at the view from his new front living room. In the distance he could see the swell of the dark sea. He ran his hand through his hair, realizing this was going to take some getting used to. The world felt quiet here, so different from the constant noise and buzz of the city.

He had left London ridiculously early this morning. The journey had been long and hard; only the thought of the removal van a couple of hours behind had spurred him on. He had finally arrived in St Andrews in the early afternoon and headed straight to the solicitor’s office where he’d dealt with a barrage of legal documentation and polite questions as quickly as possible. Armed with keys and directions to his new home he drove through the town, only stopping to grab a few groceries. From what he could see, the cobbled streets and historic architecture looked charming and quaint and, more importantly, as different from London as he had hoped.

He found the house easily enough: the last property in a row of impressive Victorian houses facing the beach. He’d climbed out of the car, rolling the tension out of his shoulders as he took in his new surroundings. The house itself sat well back from the road, the front lawn flanked by a gravelled driveway on one side and overgrown flowerbeds on the other.

He glanced over at the neighbouring house – similar to his except for the ivy cascading down the soft red brick of its front wall and spilling over a blue front door. To the other side of the house there was nothing to see except the sweep of sand and sea stretching into the distance. After unloading the car, he’d let himself in, dumped his suitcases in the hall, and waited for the delivery van.

By anyone’s standards it must seem mad that the day he moved into his new house was the first time he’d actually stepped into it. But he had left it all to Samantha. It had been she who had flown up to Scotland to view the house while Ben stayed to close his last big deal.

Telling Samantha he wanted to leave London and return to teaching, he hadn’t been sure how she would react. She was a city girl through and through but she seemed to go for it, shared his vision for a new life. She appeared genuinely excited by Ben’s job offer at the University of St Andrews, providing the obligatory bottle of something expensive to celebrate.

Ben thought they might rent somewhere first but Samantha had insisted on viewing an amazing house she’d seen online located right on the beachfront. Houses weren’t really his thing but Ben had happily looked at the photos and listened to her plans for the house, including turning one of the rooms into her office where she planned to set up and run an IT consultancy.

Turning from the window he shook his head and smiled wryly to himself. She had been right of course. It was a beautiful house, an estate agent’s dream to sell with its original fireplaces, cornice ceilings, and large bay windows overlooking the sea. A stunning house but clearly not enough for Samantha. Not enough for her to be able to decline the promotion offered to her by the company she worked for just weeks before they were set to move. Their expansion into East Asia provided her with an opportunity simply ‘too good to turn down’.

Ben wondered if she’d just got cold feet about them, about the whole move. She didn’t ask him to stay and he hadn’t offered to. Money wasn’t an issue and the sale of the house was in his name anyway so all he had to do was come alone. A strange almost unspoken ending of whatever it was they had. What did that say about their relationship?

He took the last mouthful of the coffee, thankful he’d had the sense to mark a box with kitchen stuff so at least he had been able to find the kettle and cups. Apart from that, he didn’t know where anything was and wasn’t sure he’d have the energy to unpack anything tonight, let alone try and find the bedding. His stomach suddenly rumbled in protest at the measly sandwich he’d eaten earlier on the motorway and a sudden chill crept over him. It was all meant to be so different. To think he’d actually imagined the possibility of a family one day, but now the empty rooms only served to remind him how alone he was.

He walked into the large hall where most of the boxes sat untouched. He hadn’t brought much. He’d made a decision only to bring what was important and there had been surprisingly little to pack. His books, some photos, and a few essential pieces of furniture. He had left London after all those years and realized he didn’t have much to bring at all.

***

Eva decided she couldn’t wait. She simply had to go and meet her new neighbours and felt a flutter of anticipation as she slipped on her jacket and ventured out into the wet night. Earlier she’d driven Jamie and his friend Ewan to Scouts and Jamie would be dropped home later. Leaving her own front door, it took Eva only seconds to walk down the front path of her own house and up her neighbour’s.

She remembered all the times she’d walk straight round to the back, knock on the door, and just walk in. Eva would immediately be enveloped by the warmth of the kitchen and Moira would have the kettle on before Eva had time to sit down at the massive oak table, which was always strewn with books and papers.

Reaching the little porch Eva shook the rain from her hood, noticing the fine layer of dust on the little shelf where a potted plant used to sit. Through the opaque glass of the inner door she could see a light on in the hall. She knocked on the familiar door feeling a little bubble of excitement in her chest, thinking how lovely it would be to have neighbours again.

After a few moments the door opened and whoever Eva might have imagined opening the door, she wasn’t prepared for the man who now did. Tall, wearing a black T-shirt and blue jeans, his dark hair was tousled, as if he’d just run a hand through it. But it was the intensity of the dark brown eyes looking at her questioningly that struck Eva and made her instantly feel self-conscious and awkward. His features were handsome but the deep frown etched into them made Eva feel uneasy.

She cleared her throat and smiled brightly at him. ‘Hi. I’m Eva Harris. I live next door with my son and wanted to come and welcome you.’

He regarded her for a moment before holding out his hand and introducing himself. ‘Ben Matthews. Nice to meet you.’

They shook hands, his touch sending a small shockwave through Eva. Suddenly she wasn’t sure what to do. The scenario she had played out in her head of this meeting hadn’t included her standing like a speechless idiot. Granted, that was before she knew her new neighbour looked like … well, like this. But that was no reason to behave differently; she was simply here to welcome him and in keeping with the tradition set by Mrs MacKenzie, she held out a pot of her best broth.

‘I brought you some soup.’

He glanced down at it, looking slightly baffled. And certainly not as grateful as Eva had hoped for.

‘That’s kind of you, but you didn’t have to do that.’

She shook her head. ‘It’s no problem. I know moving day can be difficult and you might not have had time to think about food. It’s home-made, vegetable …’ Her voice trailed off and she swallowed nervously.

‘Thank you.’ He took the pot from her hands and placed it awkwardly on a pile of boxes behind him.

‘I know lots of people are vegetarian these days so I thought that would be the safest option.’ Eva heard herself babble on, wishing she could stop but sure that if she did there would be a horrible silence. Deciding she had exhausted the soup topic, she changed tack. ‘So, have you come far today?’

‘London.’

She nodded. ‘St Andrews is going to be quite a change for you then.’

‘That’s the general idea,’ he said dryly.

Eva couldn’t understand why he was making this so difficult and thought desperately of what to say next. She never had a problem talking to new people; she did it all the time with her guests. She had been thinking along the lines of a cosy get-to-know-you chat, possibly over a cup of tea, while she imparted her local knowledge and offered to help with anything. Well she could at least still do that.

‘So, um, is there anything I can help you with?’

‘Unless you’re a heating engineer I doubt it,’ he replied, not even bothering to hide his irritability. Now that she thought about it, there had been no surge of warmth when he had opened the door. In fact she could sense a definite chill coming from the house.

‘You don’t have heating?’ No wonder he was scowling. These were big houses to heat and to arrive after a long journey to find no heating would test anyone.

‘Have you checked the pressure gauge?’

His brows shot up. ‘Sorry?’

‘Well no, I’m not a heating engineer but I’d guess the water pressure to the boiler might have dropped because it hasn’t been used for a while. You need to refill your system by opening the bypass valve.’

Not waiting for an invitation, she walked in past him just happy she was able to help. A wall of cold air hit Eva as she entered the house and she shivered. She recalled all the times she had been here to see the MacKenzies, the house always so warm and inviting. But it was more than the cold. There was something missing but Eva couldn’t put her finger on it. A few boxes here and there but otherwise it all seemed too orderly, not enough chaos for someone who had just moved in.

She could see he had got as far as opening the door to the small hall cupboard where the boiler was located. Using her phone torch Eva squeezed into the cupboard and knelt down. Below the boiler she found the bypass valve and opened it for a few seconds before hearing the satisfying sound of the boiler ignite.

‘That’s it. You should start to feel a difference soon.’ Straightening up she found herself face to face with him. Or face to chest actually – he really was tall. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his nearness making her conscious she hadn’t given her appearance a moment’s thought before she came round. She raised her gaze to meet his and thought she detected the tiniest flicker of amusement in his eyes.

‘So is fixing boilers a hobby of yours?’ he asked.

‘I run a guest house next door. I’ve had to learn to deal with leaky taps, blocked sinks –’

‘Guest house?’ The frown made another appearance. As a businesswoman, Eva knew it was vital to be on good terms with her neighbours and was keen to reassure him.

‘Please don’t be alarmed. I only open May to September. All my guests are highly respectable, usually out all day, and tucked up nice and early so you’ll hardly know they’re here. They won’t disturb you.’

Appearing reassured with this information he gave a small, forced smile. ‘Well, thank you. It was beginning to feel pretty miserable in here.’

‘These properties don’t take care of themselves. I can give you the name of a local heating engineer if you like – probably best to give the system an overhaul.’

‘Um, sure,’ he muttered.

‘So what brings you to St Andrews?’ Eva asked following him back through the hall towards the front door.

‘I’m starting work at the university.’

Eva nodded, not surprised. Lots of people coming to St Andrews had some connection to the university. In the summer much of her business came from families attending graduations and Eva was happy to play a small part in these special occasions

‘It’s a good university and has a great reputation. My friend’s son has just started studying engineering there,’ she spoke chattily. ‘So, um, what will you be doing there?’

He ran a hand over his shadowed jaw, hesitated for a moment as if reluctant to divulge any information. ‘Teaching physics,’ he replied simply.

Eva had no idea what the average physicist looked like these days but was surprised. Certainly there was a serious, almost brooding quality about him but for some reason teaching physics seemed at odds with his appearance. But perhaps it explained his reticence. Maybe he was one of those genius types who found it difficult to communicate with people unless they had some super high IQ.

Eva closed her mouth, which she realized was hanging open, and gave herself a shake. ‘Well, I’m sure you’ll enjoy living in St Andrews. It’s a friendly community and being at the university you’ll soon meet lots of people.’ Although Eva got the impression Ben Matthews wasn’t going to be actively seeking new friends.

Meeting visitors from all over the world, Eva reckoned she had become a pretty good judge of character. Some wanted to chat; others preferred keeping to themselves. She knew some people were easy to please while others found fault in everything. And now she sensed Ben Matthews was being guarded.

For someone who had just moved in, the place didn’t show many signs of a life on the move. Everything pointed to him being on his own, which seemed strange for such a big house. She mulled that over in her head: the fact he appeared to be single. Did it matter to her? If she was honest she’d been hoping a family might move in, maybe with children close to Jamie’s age. Perhaps he had a wife, a partner or family still to join him.

‘Once you get settled perhaps you and er … well perhaps you’d like to come round for dinner?’

He had reached the front door now, placed his hand on the handle, and she saw him bristle. ‘I doubt I’ll have time. I’m going to be pretty busy.’

‘So, um is it just you? I mean, there’s no one else?’ She cringed inwardly at how nosy she just sounded but couldn’t help herself.

‘No, it’s just me,’ he replied tersely, opening the door.

‘Right, of course,’ Eva said weakly, stepping outside. She suddenly remembered something and turned. ‘I still have a set of keys for this house. The people who lived here before you – we had a set of each other’s keys for emergencies.’ If she hoped he might say to keep the arrangement in place – after all it was a sensible neighbourly thing to do – then she was to be disappointed.

‘Just put them through the letterbox next time you’re passing.’ His tone suggested he was finding this conversation tedious now, making Eva feel as if she was being dismissed.

‘Of course.’

‘Thanks again,’ he said closing the front door behind her. Eva hurried back to her own house with the rain still falling, feeling suddenly miserable. What had she been thinking? That she could turn up and be welcomed with open arms? She was trying to be friendly but now had a horrible feeling he would just think her pushy and prying. Stupidly she thought she could re-create what she had with the MacKenzies. But of course, he was a stranger. And not a particularly friendly one by the looks of it.