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

helped me with the garden yesterday. Do you really think it’s made a big difference? I still have the wardrobes and cupboards to empty,’ she added.

‘There’s time for that, potential buyers won’t expect the cottage to be empty and ready to move into. But yes, this has all definitely added to the price and increased the marketability. I think we could up the price by at least another ten thousand. Let Terry take some photos, then I’ll go back to the office and email you the details through. We could have it for sale on our website for tomorrow.’ I’ve already emailed some of the clients on our list who had stated an interest in property like this and we’ve got three wanting viewings.’

It’s all happening so fast. Too fast.

‘Let me know what days and times are okay for viewings. Or you could give me a spare key and I can let potential buyers around if you aren’t in? Obviously, we won’t walk in unannounced. I’d let you know the days and times beforehand.’

She’d prefer Jonathan to show people around, she decided. It would make it more detached and professional. ‘That sounds good. I’m in and out at the moment doing various photography jobs,’ she told him, handing him the spare front-door key. ‘I’ll try to leave the place tidy at all times.’

‘Don’t worry about that, people can see beyond a few dirty plates and an unmade bed,’ Jonathan told her. He took a label from his briefcase, wrote Fisherman’s Rest on it and put it on the key fob. ‘Have you thought about what you’re going to do when the cottage is sold? If you want to stay local, I could look out for a place for you if you let me know your budget? We deal in rentals too.’

Did she want to stay around here? ‘I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet, but thanks. I’ll give it some thought and get back to you. Now, I’m sorry but I’ve got to dash as I’ve got a photography job in just under an hour.’

Jonathan nodded and held out his hand. ‘Pleasure to do business with you.’

She shook his hand. ‘Likewise.’

As soon as Jonathan had gone, she grabbed a sandwich, then set off for Gwel Teg, where she was due to take the first few staff photos. Those of Sue, Mandy, Harry the handyman and Shanise, a couple of the waitresses and the two cleaners. Marcus was working this evening, so she was coming back to photograph him, the bar staff and the rest of the waiting staff.

It was an enjoyable afternoon. Hattie had suggested that the staff should be photographed as naturally as possible, doing their jobs, and Sue had agreed. So, Mandy – wearing an extra-bright red lipstick – was photographed at her desk, Harry was holding a drill, about to put a shelf up, Shanise was dishing up a meal, etc. There was a sense of fun about it, and the photos were natural but effective. ‘You’ve really got a talent for this, Hattie. You seem to capture the natural character and warmth of people.’

‘Thank you. That means a lot,’ Hattie told her. And it did. It made her feel more confident about being able to make some sort of living out of her photography. She’d checked her bank balance this morning and it had frightened her how much her savings had gone down and her credit card balance gone up; she’d used that to pay for the bathroom suite and some of the other things she’d bought for the cottage. ‘My redundancy money will be in soon and then I can pay that off,’ she reminded herself.

It brought home to her though how much she needed to sell Fisherman’s Rest. There was no point in her being sentimental, she needed the money.

She was walking down the hill back home when her phone rang. It was Jonathan. ‘We’ve got a viewing for Wednesday and two for Friday,’ he told her. She could hear the enthusiasm in his voice. ‘I can handle them for you if you’re out.’

That was quick. Jonathan had been sure there would be a lot of interest in the cottage and it seemed he was right. Well, she was going to have to keep the place tidy, that was for sure. And she was going to have to decide where she wanted to live.

‘Want me to look out for places to rent for you?’ Mali asked when she called her once she’d made herself a cup of coffee back in the cottage. ‘Do you fancy a flat or a house this time?’

‘A house. I want a garden where I can put plant pots and a table and chairs. Look what me and Marcus did yesterday.’ She changed the screen view so Mali could see the yard. ‘Isn’t it gorgeous?’

‘Beautiful.’ There was a pause on the other end of the phone. She could almost hear Mali’s brain cogs working. ‘You don’t want to move, do you?’ she asked.

‘No,’ she admitted, ‘I feel so at home here. And I’ve got more photography work at the hotel, and a couple of other jobs too. I guess it’s like taking a long holiday, you don’t want to go back home, but once you’re back then you’re fine, and slip back into your old life again.’

She didn’t want to go back to her old life, though. And to be honest, Mali and Lou were about the only people she missed. She’d got on well with the other members of the insurance firm that she’d worked for, but it hadn’t been her dream job, and the people she’d met here in Port Medden had made her feel so welcome. Mandy, Sue, the couple at the café. Marcus.

She could stay here. She could rent somewhere. She shook her head. No, that wouldn’t work.

She could go to France, like her dad had suggested.

For the first time in her life, she felt rootless, as if she had no anchor, and that