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

She opened the cupboard doors and started to pull out the contents: old books, boxes of black-and-white photographs, another box of papers, some screwdrivers, a stapler. She sat down on the carpet and placed the box of photographs on her lap. Many of them were faded now, of people she didn’t know and who probably weren’t still alive. She peered at one photo of a little boy standing in front of a couple, a young man beside them. Was that Granny and Grandad? She turned the photo over: Albert, Mum, Roger and Owen it said. The date was 19 something but the last two figures were too faded for her to read. Her dad, his parents and Uncle Albert. It was the first time she’d seen a photo of them all. It really illustrated the age difference between her dad and Uncle Albert. No wonder they hadn’t been very close.

Her dad had suggested she called a house-clearance firm to collect the furniture the week of the sale. She wondered whether to ask Winnie and Marcus if they wanted anything from the house, as they had both been fond of Uncle Albert. It would be a bit awkward, but Marcus had been kind to her uncle so she should at least ask if he wanted anything before everything was taken away. Besides, what did it matter about him and Estelle now? She wouldn’t be here much longer to bother about anything he did. She’d been silly to get so worked up about it. She’d ask Winnie and Marcus if they had time to pop around now, it would make it easier for her to see Marcus if Winnie was there too.

She sent Marcus a quick text and then popped around to Primrose Cottage. Winnie answered on the first knock. ‘Hello, my dear, how’s the house sale going?’ she asked cheerily.

‘We’re exchanging in three weeks,’ Hattie told her.

‘That soon? Well I’ll miss you, and I’m sure Marcus will too. It’s such a shame, you’re a wonderful neighbour, but it is what it is.’ Winnie rubbed her hands together briskly. ‘Now, what can I do for you? Or were you popping in for a cup of tea and a chat?’

‘I’m organising a house-clearance company to come in and empty the cottage the day before we complete and was wondering if there was anything you wanted to remember Uncle Albert by? The furniture is quite old and worn, but maybe you’d like to have a look?’

‘What a lovely idea. I will pop around, thank you. Did you want me to come now?’

‘If you have time.’ She heard a message ping and checked her phone. ‘Marcus is on his way too.’

Her heart fluttered as she saw Marcus come out of his cottage as she and Winnie walked down the path to Fisherman’s Rest.

‘Afternoon, Marcus. I hope we don’t want the same things,’ Winnie said mischievously.

Marcus smiled. ‘You can have first choice, Winnie.’

He glanced at Hattie and she threw him a brief smile to let him know that there was no awkwardness on her part. She was determined to be adult about this.

Once inside, Hattie put the kettle on and made tea for Winnie and coffee for her and Marcus while they both checked out the furniture. After much deliberating, Winnie decided upon a table lamp and a mantlepiece clock. ‘I shall think of dear Albert whenever I look at them,’ she said. Marcus took Albert’s binoculars and the big ship he kept in the lounge window. ‘If you’re sure you don’t want them?’ he asked Hattie.

She shook her head. ‘Please have them. Uncle Albert would want you to.’

‘Have you saved anything to remember your uncle by, dear?’ Winnie asked as they all sat sipping their drinks.

‘I’m taking the painting over the fireplace.’ That would remind her of her uncle and of Marcus. ‘And I’ve got some photos. I’m going to look through them with my dad. Dad wants his pipe rack – he doesn’t smoke but he said he always remembers Albert sitting in the rocking chair smoking. I’d like to keep the rocking chair too, but I don’t think it will fit in my friend Mali’s car. I’ll be staying with her until I get myself a place in Bristol.’

‘I’ll be sad to see you go, Hattie. Do pop in and see us if you’re ever down this way,’ Winnie said.

‘I will,’ Hattie promised.

‘What about Buddy?’ Hattie felt Marcus’s eyes upon her, he was waiting for her answer.

‘Obviously, he’s coming with me,’ Hattie replied.

‘Well, I must go now, dear, this has been lovely. And thank you so much for the mementos of Albert. I appreciate it.’ Winnie got to her feet, picking up the bag that Hattie had put the table lamp and clock in.

‘You’re welcome.’ Hattie stood up, expecting Marcus to go too but he remained seated.

What does he want? She thought as she let Winnie out and then came back in. He was standing now, hands in pockets, an earnest expression on his face.

‘Hattie, I want to talk to you. Will you please hear me out?’

‘What about?’ she asked wearily.

‘Monday. I did not sleep with Estelle and she tricked me into that kiss. Lady Thomwell came to pick up my painting for the exhibition. I overslept, quickly pulled on some shorts and went to answer the door to find her and Estelle on the doorstep.’ He thrust his hand through his hair. ‘They came in to look at the painting and I helped them carry it out to the car. Then Estelle said she needed the loo so I let her back in. I had told her you would be home soon and I think she pretended she needed the loo to buy more time, saw you coming and quickly kissed me.’ He looked genuinely remorseful. ‘I’m sorry that you had to witness that.’

She bit her lip and averted her gaze. ‘Well, thank you for explaining but it really doesn’t matter. You’re single. You can see who you want to.’

‘It