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

had dropped anything that was broken at the local tip and then given the rest to a couple of charity shops. She wanted to get a few flowering tubs to make the yard look really pretty. She could put some pots out the front and paint the bench too. It would make the cottage look more inviting, cared for. She had to see Ellie and Reece tomorrow, but she had the rest of the afternoon and Sunday free, plenty of time to do what she had in mind. Jonathan was coming on Monday with a photographer.

She heard the back door open next door and looked over the wall to see Marcus coming out. ‘How’s it going?’ he asked.

‘Good. We’ve tidied up and are off to have a walk around Port Medden now. Are you still popping around later to check out our hard work and have a goodbye drink with Nick?’

‘I’ll be there straight after work,’ Marcus promised. ‘It’s going to feel a bit weird being on your own when Nick has gone, isn’t it?’

‘It will but I’ve got plenty to keep me occupied. And Buddy is good company now he’s got used to me. Mind you, I’ll be glad to move him back downstairs, he wakes me up at stupid o’clock shouting “bugger off” to the seagulls!’

Marcus chuckled. ‘Yes, you can really hear them in the attic room, can’t you? Do they disturb you?’

‘They did at first, but I’ve got used to them now, but Buddy screeching at the top of his voice always jolts me out of my sleep and once he’s awake he’s non-stop chatter!’ She was getting very fond of the parrot, though, and was pleased that he was finally settling down with her.

‘Okay, I’m ready to go – ah, hello, Marcus. How’s your head this morning? We got through a bit of wine, didn’t we?’ said Nick, appearing in the back yard.

‘Nothing a strong black coffee couldn’t sort out.’ Marcus didn’t point out that it was Nick who had drunk most of the wine. He checked his watch. ‘Sorry, I’ve got a meeting with someone who wants to commission a painting so I need to get going. I’ll see you both tonight. Got to dash.’ He raised his hand in a wave and then was off.

‘I presume we’re having a walking tour? I’m not sure all that wine is out of my system yet,’ Nick said.

‘Yep, all the best places are within walking distance.’ Hattie sat down on one of the rusting chairs. ‘I’m so grateful for your help, Nick. This would have all taken me ages.’

He grinned at her. ‘We make a good team.’

Hattie grinned back. ‘We do. But it’s not something I’d like to do too often.’

‘Me and Glenn bought a run-down cottage and have been doing that up as and when we can alongside our jobs. It’s taking longer than we’d like, though.’ Nick sat down on the other chair beside Hattie. ‘We’ve toyed with the idea of going part-time so we can do the house up quicker, sell it on and buy another one, but were a bit worried about making the commitment. Now, I’m thinking it might be a good idea. I can’t believe what we’ve done in a few days.’

‘Neither can I. When I came down as a child, I remember the cottage as bright and cheerful. There were pots of flowers in the back yard, and around the front door, I remember their smell – and the smell of cooking from the kitchen. It was lovely. I had a shock when I saw how scruffy and neglected it had got, but I guess as he got older Uncle Albert let things go a bit. Marcus said that he was lonely. It’s so sad.’

‘I know. It sounds like Marcus kept an eye on him, though, and the woman next door, so he said last night. You couldn’t help if you didn’t know, could you?’ Nick pointed out. He got to his feet. ‘Right, let’s start this sightseeing tour then. And can we stop off for a pub lunch maybe?’

‘Sounds good.’ Hattie grabbed her bag, locked up the cottage and then they set off down the hill to the harbour.

The day passed quickly and very pleasantly, starting with a walk around the harbour front, the local art gallery – where they were both chuffed to see two of Marcus’s paintings on display – and a paddle in the sea. They stopped off at the Old Sea Dog for a pub lunch washed down with a fruit cider. Then they had a wander around the shops, where Nick bought a few souvenirs to take home and Hattie spotted some yellow cushions which she simply had to buy.

‘It might have been an idea to take the car,’ Nick said as they walked back to the cottage, their hands full of bagged-up cushions.

‘They will look great on the sofa, they’ll really add colour to the room,’ Hattie told him.

She was right. The vibrant yellow cushions transformed the old brown sofa and brought a splash of much-needed colour to the living room. ‘Now, I can pick out the yellow in flowers, or rugs, or lampshades. It’ll look really bright and cheerful,’ she said, feeling really pleased with how much they had transformed Fisherman’s Rest.

Hattie’s phone started to ring. She glanced at the screen and saw it was her dad, video-calling her. ‘It’s Dad,’ she mouthed, swiping the screen to answer. There was a crackle and then Owen’s face appeared.

‘Hello, love. Is this a good time? I just wanted to check how you and Nick were getting on with tidying up the cottage.’

‘We’ve done more than tidy it, we’ve transformed it. Let me show you.’

Taking the phone from room to room, she showed him what they’d done.

‘That looks brilliant. I think I could do with you two over here helping with the hotel renovations.’ Owen was clearly impressed.

‘Maybe me and Glenn can talk to you about that . . . but I’ll have to discuss