One Summer in Cornwall Karen King (positive books to read TXT) 📖

‘It might be best, then I can open the doors for you, I don’t want to make him jittery,’ Hattie said, leading the way out into the hall.

‘I’ll get cracking with the painting then, while you two move the bird and settle him in.’ Nick grabbed one of the big tins of paint and a roller.

Marcus carried Buddy, talking reassuringly as he walked up the two flights of stairs.

Thank goodness she’d made her bed that morning and not left any underwear lying around, Hattie thought as she opened the attic door. ‘Shall we put him on that chest of drawers by the window? It’s nice and light there,’ she suggested.

‘Good idea.’ Marcus walked over and gently put the cage down. ‘There we are, boy. You’re staying up here for a while,’ he said.

Buddy was sitting on the perch, head to one side, staring at him. Marcus took the other half of banana out of his pocket, opened the cage door slightly and dropped it in. ‘Have another treat,’ he said.

Buddy hopped down, grabbed it, and carried it up to the perch where he balanced on one leg, held the piece of banana with his other claw and nibbled it.

They both watched him in an awkward silence and Hattie wondered if, like her, Marcus was remembering the last time he had been in her bedroom. When he had helped her home drunk from the wedding reception and she had stripped off and got into bed, too drunk to care that he was there. Was it really only a few days ago? How had they gone from that to being so self-conscious around each other.

‘He seems happy enough here,’ she said to break the silence.

‘He’ll be fine,’ Marcus said as they both walked out of the room.

Hattie carefully closed the door behind her.

‘Nick seems okay, how are you both getting on?’

‘Good. Better than I thought we would. He’s given me a different insight into my dad. I think I might have been a bit harsh on him.’

‘Well, I’m sure your dad understands. Divorce is never easy, especially for the children who feel they’ve been left behind by one of the parents.’

‘Yes, that’s how I felt. I never thought about how it was for Nick, having his father replaced. I’m going over to France for a visit when the cottage is sold.’ They were down the stairs now and, as they walked into the kitchen, Hattie saw that Nick had made a start on painting the lounge ceiling and was singing along to a music station on the radio.

‘You stopping for a bevvy, mate? There’s some cans in the fridge if you want one,’ he called to Marcus.

‘Thanks but I need to get back.’ Marcus thrust his hands in his pockets. ‘I’ve got Thursday evening off, though, why don’t you two come around for a meal? It’s probably going to be difficult for you both to cook while you’re decorating and stuff.’

His offer took Hattie by surprise. ‘That sounds great, doesn’t it, Nick?’

‘A chef cooking for us? Nice! Count me in,’ Nick agreed. Then he paused, paintbrush poised, and glanced at Hattie. ‘Unless you’d prefer a cosy evening for the two of you?’

‘Of course not,’ Hattie said quickly, even though she would have liked that. A lot. ‘You must come too.’

‘That’s settled then. See you about seven?’ Marcus said.

‘We’ll be there. Thanks,’ Hattie told him. ‘I’ll see you out.’

‘It’s fine. I know the way. You’ve got enough to do here. See you tomorrow.’

‘Are you sure you wouldn’t have preferred a meal for two?’ Nick asked as they heard the front door close behind Marcus. ‘I’m happy to have a pub meal on my own. I don’t want to play gooseberry.’

‘Don’t be silly, I told you we’re just friends.’

‘Yep. You told me that, but your face when you see him tells me different. And I can tell he feels the same about you. Still, I’m not about to turn down a free meal.’ He dipped his roller in the tray he was holding. ‘How’s this looking?’

‘Good. I’ll start on the walls.’ Hattie picked up a paint tray and poured some of the white emulsion into it, then grabbed a roller and started on the long lounge wall.

They worked side by side, singing along to the radio, all morning. By the time they stopped for a late lunch, the lounge was almost done.

‘It really makes a difference, doesn’t it?’ Hattie said as Nick put the kettle on and she made them cheese and ham sandwiches.

‘Yep, I reckon this place will be snapped up.’ Nick put two mugs down on the table. ‘I’m sorry I can only stay until Saturday, but hopefully it will all be done by then.’

‘It’s fine. I’m really glad of your help. I’ll go to the market on Saturday and pick up some colourful curtains and cushions. I’ll send you some photos of the finished look. I’ll be sending some to Dad too.’

After lunch, they painted the kitchen then moved the furniture back inside.

Then they had a shower and went out for a pub meal.

‘Thanks for coming down to help me. The cottage looks much better already,’ Hattie said as they tucked into their sausages and mash.

‘You’re welcome. I’m pleased that I could help,’ Nick said, swallowing a spoonful of mash.

Hattie speared a sausage and took a big bite out of it. ‘So am I,’ she said.

Chapter Twenty-Six

By the time the plumber arrived with the bathroom suite early on Thursday morning the living room and kitchen were looking clean and tidy, the hall, upstairs landing, and the bathroom walls had been painted and Nick and Hattie were cleaning down the doors upstairs. It took most of the day for the plumber to take out the old suite and fit the new one – Nick helped a bit. Hattie tidied up Uncle Albert’s bedroom, shoving things into the cupboard and wardrobe until she had time to sort them out. All that mattered at the moment