Page 14 of My Mistake To Make

‘Oh, shit, sorry.’ I realize I’m staring and internally smack myself in the head. ‘Yeah, moved here. I own a house here, butI didn’t realize it was in such a bad state, so I need to get work started fairly quickly.’

I’m impressed that even in the cloud of exhaustion, I still manage to see the moment it dawns on him the house I’m talking about, and for some reason, the confusion morphs quickly into frustration. No, that looks distinctly like anger, and I instinctively take a defensive step back.

‘The Reynolds farmhouse?’

I was right. He knows the place. ‘Yeah, it’s mine, but…’

He huffs out a laugh, but it’s completely devoid of any humor. He shakes his head and turns, then starts walking away.

‘Uh, the contractor?’ I call after him weakly.

‘Can’t help,’ he snaps, and then he’s gone.

‘Okay.’ Confused at his reaction, I sigh into the distance before turning, letting myself into my cabin, dumping my bags, and falling down onto the bed.

I need sleep, lots and lots of sleep.

‘Oh god.’

I groan as I stretch out in bed. My body is stiff as I reach for my phone, expecting to see that I’ve been asleep for thirty-six hours, but no, just a solid nine. Unfortunately, that makes it just after midnight.

I flick on the bedside lamp and sit back against the headboard. My stomach grumbles, and I look around the room for the bag of snacks I bought for the flight, then didn’t need, thanks to Doris and business class.

Pushing out of the bed, I rifle through my bags, sending up a silent thank you when I find what I’m after before sitting back on the bed. I open a bag of crisps, then chuckle. Cara McKenzie, eating crisps in bed and not giving a passing thought to crumbs…unheard of. Who says I’m boring?

My gaze moves around the space. I chose the cabin that said it had a bathtub and a kitchenette. That made it the most expensive of all the ones available, but I might be here a while. I need to be able to soak my bones and make myself some food. I didn’t get a chance to have a look around when I first came in, as I was focused only on sleep. Now I take it all in. It’s nice. To my surprise, it’s very white. Whitewashed wood-paneled walls and furniture with navy blue soft furnishings. It reminds me of a little beach cottage we used to stay in when I was small. The bed isn’t huge, but big enough and really comfy, and the linens are clean and soft. The kitchenette is small but functional.

In the bathroom, there’s more white and blue, and the décor is nautical, beach-style, with framed ropes and knots and strategically placed shells. It’s very cute. I release a relieved sigh. I could have ended up in some dirty hovel of a place, but no, it’s lovely.

Finding my way back to the bed, I startle at the loud laughter outside my room. It’s deep, a man’s voice, and then another. I check the time again—almost one in the morning.

I head over to the window to see two men approaching my cabin, and my heart races, then, one of the men taps the other’s chest and redirects him to the next one down. I breathe out a small sigh of relief, then the music starts. Loud music, coming from the cabin they just walked into.

I’m probably not going back to sleep just yet, but that’s not the point. I’m paying to be here just like they are, and I shouldn’t have to put up with that in the middle of the night—nobody should.

I think about going over to the bar, then realize it’s probably closed. I remember thatHappytold me to call Zoe if I need anything, but I don’t want to wake anyone. No, I’ll just go and ask them to turn it down.

As I slip my feet into my trainers, I hear more voices and more laughter and look out of the window to see more men heading into the next-door cabin, and my self-preservation kicks in. I can’t head over to a cabin full of intoxicated men alone and potentially piss them off.

I’m sure they’re all nice guys and wouldn’t hurt a fly, but this is me: risk-averse, remember.

I turn on my TV instead, louder than I’ve ever had it in my life, and settle onto the bed to eat snacks and watch infomercials. Living the dream, Cara.

After just over an hour, a whole bottle of water, and another bathroom break, I realize I’m not getting back to sleep and decide to run a bath and make a list. Heading into the bathroom, I turn on the hot water and let the tub fill while I find my notepad and pen.

I don’t have any bubble bath, I think, as I watch the water rising. That needs to be the first thing on my list. I sit on the closed toilet and turn to a new page of my pad.

Groceries.I write as the first heading, then start to make a list.

Bubble bath.

Milk.

Sugar.

Tea (if it looks decent… otherwise, coffee will do)There’s nothing worse than bad tea.

I consider what else I need before getting up to turn off the taps. I put down my pad and pen, head out to make sure the door is locked, and the curtains are closed, then undress and sink my body into the warm water.

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