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

‘Turn towards the camera now and keep stirring the pot,’ Hattie instructed.

Marcus complied, half-turned towards her, his right hand stirring the beef goulash. Hattie was frowning in concentration, her white-blond hair tucked behind her ears, as she took a few shots from different angles.

She was a good photographer, he knew that; he’d seen some of her shots. He thought back to the day he’d told her off for taking a photo of him surfing. She must have thought he was really up himself.

‘There, that should be enough.’

‘How many photos do you need?’ he teased, although he knew that she’d taken a few so she had plenty to choose from.

‘Only one, as you know. And you look really cute with that hat and apron on.’

Marcus wrinkled his nose, knowing she was teasing him back. He always tied his hair up when he was cooking, and donned a chef’s hat and apron, it was part of the hygiene standards the hotel insisted on. ‘I guess I’m not going to be the sexiest one on the website.’

‘It’s about looking professional but natural, not sexy,’ she told him. Then she winked. ‘But you’re not too bad.’

‘Thanks.’ He stirred the pot again, dipped a spoon in to taste it and added a bit more salt before turning back to Hattie. ‘Are you almost finished now?’

‘Just the evening bar staff to do and that’s it.’ She ran her fingers through her hair to release it from behind her ears. ‘Jonathan phoned. He’s got three viewings already.’

Marcus raised an eyebrow. ‘That was quick. How do you feel about it?’

She shrugged. ‘Well, it’s not to say any of them will make an offer. I mean, homes can be on the market for ages. But I guess I’d better start emptying out those wardrobes and cupboards.’

‘Want me to come around and help tomorrow?’ he offered.

‘What about your painting? Don’t you have a new commission?’

‘I start it next week, so I can help you out for a couple of days before then. I’m guessing we might need my van to shift some of the stuff.’

‘That would be great, thanks. I’ve got to pop out in the morning, a couple want me to take photographs of their baby, but I’ll be back midday.’

‘See you after lunch then.’

She nodded, gave him a little wave and went out to carry on with her photographs.

Marcus turned back to his cooking. The hotel was pretty full and the restaurant packed tonight, so he was too busy to think about Hattie’s news, but when he walked past her cottage later that evening and saw the light on in the lounge, he thought how quickly he’d got used to her living next door. He was going to miss her.

Chapter Thirty-Two

‘I remember this. I didn’t realise he still had it.’ Marcus picked up a navy flat cap from the pile of clothes, hats, shoes and boxes that they had just pulled out of the wardrobe in Uncle Albert’s room.

Hattie glanced over. ‘I remember him wearing a cap too. I’m not sure if it was this one.’

‘I wouldn’t be surprised. It was looking quite tatty when I first met him. He used to practically live in it, but then one day he started wearing a brown cap instead. I guessed the navy one had got too tatty and he’d dumped it.’ His gaze skimmed the assortment of stuff on the floor. ‘Looking at all this, he didn’t dump much!’

‘Lots of old folk are like that. In their time, you made do and mended, my gran was always saying that.’ Hattie bit her lip and busied herself picking up the clothes and pushing them into one of the black bags they’d brought up with them so that Marcus wouldn’t see the tears that had sprung to her eyes. She’d been close to her maternal grandparents and it had hit her hard when they’d died.

She felt an arm wrap around her shoulder. ‘Still miss her, eh?’

So he had noticed. She nodded numbly. ‘At least she had grandpa, and when he died, me and Mum used to visit her. I hate to think of poor Uncle Albert being on his own.’ Damn, why was she getting all sentimental? It was looking at all this stuff, the remnants of her uncle’s life, imagining him all sad and lonely. No one to care about him, no one to talk to. And he’d been so jolly and kind when they’d stayed with him every summer. She couldn’t bear to think of him huddled in that rocking chair by the fire, a blanket over his lap to keep him warm, and only Buddy for company.

He had Marcus too.

Marcus’s arm tightened around her shoulder. ‘He liked his own company, and me and Winnie used to pop in.’

‘I guess.’ She nestled her head into his shoulder, taking comfort from his embrace. ‘We should have kept in touch, though. Made sure he was okay.’ Her dad should have, anyway, Uncle Albert had been his brother. But then he’d barely had time for her, his daughter, never mind his much-older brother who lived down the bottom end of England!

She heard Marcus catch his breath. ‘Look, I’m sorry. I was too hard on you about that, I know I was. I had no right. Albert never complained about not seeing his family. I don’t want you to feel bad about it. This must be a really emotional time for you.’

She lifted her head to reassure him that it was all right, but he was looking down at her, his eyes darkening as they met hers, and she couldn’t speak, the words were caught in her throat as she drowned in his gaze, her heart thudding so loudly in her chest she was sure he could hear it. Then he was pulling her closer to him, and he was lowering his head, and she was raising hers to meet his lips, and they were kissing but it was like a kiss she had never experienced before.