Page 50 of A Fresh Start on Crumcarey
‘See, didn’t break!’ Luke mumbled from beneath a tangle of dark hair and sweet kisses.
‘I still think it needs further testing,’ Maggie breathed into his neck.
Well, he wasn’t going to complain about that!
CHAPTER 23
MAGGIE
Maggie popped her paintbrush down and picked up her glass of apple juice, taking a deep swig. She was busy applying a lick of paint to the stonework around her brand-new windows – and considering it was the first week of October, it was weirdly warm.
‘Gotta make the most of it, eh boy?’ she said, glancing down at McGregor, who was sprawled out on the grass in the shade of the tarpaulin she’d strung up for him. The little dog didn’t bother to raise his head, but he did give his tail a wag of acknowledgement before his eyes drifted closed again.
Luke was off in the truck – first to collect Mr Harris from his swimming session up at Crum House, and then the pair of them were off on a tour of the island to collect the latest batch of bits and bobs they’d been gifted.
Maggie couldn’t believe how fast things were moving… not that she was complaining in the slightest. Still, it had only been a week since Luke had arranged a meeting with Olive after one of her shifts at The Tallyaff.
Over a meal, Luke had laid out his plans – and Maggie and Mr Harris had chipped in to help fill in the gaps. Olive had loved the idea and had happily volunteered to organise anypaperwork required when it came to designating the buildings as community assets.
Just one week later, they were getting ready to make a start on Peedie Croft… and Maggie couldn’t remember when she’d last been this busy –orthis happy.
It wasn’t just that part of the project that was moving forward, either. Word had got out about what they were up to – probably thanks to Stella and Frank bragging about the designs she’d pulled together for their cottage. They seemed to be showing the drawings to everyone who stopped for an ice cream.
The result of all this was that Maggie’s diary was quickly filling with appointments to visit homes all over the island – and her sketchbook was most definitely invited too!
‘Right, lad,’ she said, stretching her back and popping her glass down. ‘I’ve got two more things to do before we go get an ice cream, okay?’
McGregor was too fast asleep to reply… but that was okay.
‘First things first,’ she muttered, heading over towards the large, flat stone she’d earmarked for the first job. Hoisting it up onto the end of the low wall right next to the road, Maggie angled it until she was happy. Then she retrieved her paint can and brush from the windowsill.
It was time for the little cottage to cast off its idiotic name. Slowly but steadily, she daubed three words onto the stone.
No Trees Cottage
When she’d finished, she took a step back and nodded. There. Drawing inspiration from Mr Harris’s mutterings, she’d re-christenedherhome with a name that was both rational and a little bit silly – just the way it should be.
Maggie was done with anything that reminded her of the struggles of the past. During their meeting at the Tallyaff, Olive had handed over a pile of post – and she’d unexpectedly received the closure she’d been missing ever since Russell had left the island.
A letter! An actual letter.
Maggie had been tempted just to bin the thing without reading it… but then curiosity had got the better of her and she’d wandered away from the table before tearing open the envelope.
Russell had moved into a tiny studio flat in New York. There wouldn’t be any more postcards. He was getting married.
Maggie skimmed the first handful of sentences and then realised they meant absolutely nothing to her. With a shrug, she’d tossed the pages of full self-congratulation into The Tallyaff’s roaring wood burner. Then she’d returned to the table to continue discussing plans for the future without so much as a backward glance.
‘Come on then lad,’ she said, patting her thigh until McGregor realised she was talking to him. The little dog slowly clambered to his feet and yawned. ‘Let’s go get that ice cream… I’ll brainstorm the other job on the way.’
After helping him into the passenger seat of her dented car, Maggie climbed behind the wheel.
‘All right, here we go,’ she said.
Reversing out onto the road, Maggie blew out a long breath as she turned the car in the direction of Big Sandy. It didn’t take long before she was frowning in concentration as her brain turned over the possibilities. It was the one thing they had left to organise – they needed a name for their new venture.
‘Crumcarey Cottages?’ she said, wrinkling her nose.
McGregor growled.
