‘Wow?’ She frowned. What kind of reaction was that? She looked at him. ‘You are a roofer now, aren’t you? Like a proper one? Trained and everything? You do thatch?’
‘Uh-huh.’ Stepping across the debris of mould and plaster on the floor, he peered up through the hole into the attic.
Crossing her arms, she watched as he examined the damage. Sophie had told her he was coming, but it still felt odd havingJosh in the cottage. Apart from the day of her grandad’s wake, he’d only been here once before. Decades ago, when Hannah’s grandad had gone away on a work do for the night and Hannah had thought it would be a good idea to invite a few friends from school round. Things had got out of hand, and with at least thirty classmates - some of whom she barely spoke to at school - crammed into the small cottage, she hadn’t known what to do. After Sophie had called her brother for help, five minutes later, Josh and a group of his closest mates had strolled in like knights in shining armour and had not only shut the party down but had stayed until the early hours to help Hannah tidy up too. Not that he’d remember, and if he did, then that would be mortifying.
‘When was the roof last thatched?’ Josh glanced across at her from the other side of the hallway, the mess between them and pulled out a small torch from his pocket. Turning it on, he shined it towards the ceiling.
‘Um, I’m not sure.’ Had she ever known the thatch to be redone? She didn’t recall anything from her childhood, and she was pretty sure her grandad would have let her know. He loved things like that; he had always been interested in the workings of things and how buildings were built, particularly older properties and their upkeep. He would definitely have explained it all to her as it was being done. ‘I don’t think it’s been re-thatched since I came to live here.’
‘Umm, so not in the last thirty years then?’ He tilted his head and looked at her.
Running her fingers through her hair, Hannah flinched. Was he saying she looked old? ‘Have I forgotten to dye the greys away?’
‘Haha, no. I just remember you Sophie saying you’d moved in with Percy when you were about six, right? A couple of years after we moved down from Yorkshire?’ Shaking his head, he chuckled.
‘Oh right. Yes, I was four.’ Of course he wouldn’t have even noticed if her stray grey hairs had suddenly multiplied overnight. He was here to look at the roof, not to take any notice of his kid sister’s friend. ‘No, not since then.’
Placing his hands in his pockets, Josh turned on the spot. ‘Don’t suppose you have a ladder handy, do you?’
‘Umm, nope. We always borrowed one from a neighbour.’ Hannah turned on her heel. ‘I’ll go and ask. I’m sure someone in the close must have one.’
‘Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll manage.’
By the time Hannah turned back to face him, all that was visible were his ankles as he hauled himself up through the hole into the attic. Two seconds later, his head emerged back down.
‘Don’t feel you have to hang around. If you’ve got stuff to do, I’m happy you getting on.’ Josh grinned before disappearing again.
‘Right, okay.’ Looking down at her trainers, she stubbed her toe on a lump of plaster. That was her dismissed then. Turning, she made her way back down the stairs and into the kitchen. She probably should have offered him a drink as soon as he came into the cottage. She turned the tap on, which clunked before spouting out water. Was it safe to drink? The taps hadn’t been used in four years, could she just drink out of them now?
Deciding to let the water run for a while to let any water that had been sitting in the pipes all this time clear, Hannah opened the cupboard above the kettle to grab the mugs. With her hand still on the handle, Hannah froze to the spot. Her grandad’s favourite beer glass with the words,Trestow Breweryetched into the glass looked down at her. Each year, without fail, they’d visited Cornwall for their annual holiday, a little place called Penworth Bay. He’d loved it there. They both had. It had been a welcome escape from whatever dramas were unfolding at school and a break from work for him. They’d always travelled aroundthe area, looking in the window of estate agents, choosing which house they’d buy and discussing what life would be like if they took the leap to move there.
Of course, they never had. Nettleford-on-the-Wold was a gorgeous place to live. It had all the community spirit Penworth Bay seemed to have, plus it had been where her grandad had grown up, her mum after him and where their friends lived. They’d both loved living here until...
Hearing Josh’s trainers on the stairs, Hannah pulled out two mugs and filled the kettle, making sure to check there were no spiders living inside first.
‘Ooh, lovely. I could use some caffeine.’
Turning, Hannah nodded. ‘Coffee or tea?’
‘Coffee please. Milk, no sugar.’
‘Coming right up.’ Taking the few short steps across to the fridge, Hannah pulled the door open and immediately clapped her hands over her mouth and nose as she took in the sight in front of her. What had she been thinking? That a magic cleaning fairy had come and cleaned out the fridge and left a bottle or two of milk for her? She coughed as bile rose to the back of her throat. The stench alone was one she’d never forget, but the sight of the half-eaten birthday cake she’d made for her grandad two days before he’d passed away was like a punch to her stomach.
He really was gone. And she’d known that, of course she had, but being away from the village, being away from the cottage, she’d been able to bottle the pain, the hurt, the grief inside. She’d been able to box it up and push it to the back of her mind. This was the reality, though. This was what happened when you upped and left in the middle of the night without saying goodbye. The cottage had fallen into ruin, quite literally turning into an unloved and very much derelict building, and the fridge… Even the roof was probably just the tip of the iceberg. What else had happened here whilst she’d been away?
‘Hannah?’ Josh’s voice was quiet, the jovial tone from earlier gone.
She nodded. Her mouth was dry, and she could feel the sting of tears in her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of him, but this was all suddenly too much. She shouldn’t have come back. She hadn’t been ready.
‘Let’s just close that, shall we?’ Leaning in front of her, Josh pushed the fridge door closed, the earthy aroma of his aftershave mixing with the rancid smell of rotten food still lingering in the air. ‘I should have thought, Sophie did say you only arrived today.’
Nodding again, Hannah closed her eyes. She needed to leave. She needed to escape the memories, the regrets, the evidence of how she’d messed all of this up. Her grandad had left her his cottage, and what had she done? Left it to rot, that’s what. It had always been such a calm, happy place filled with love and laughter, and now all that was left was covered in dust, mould and the unspoken truth of how she’d abandoned it all.
Pushing past him, she tapped her leg and pulled the front door open as Alfie strode towards her. She’d go for a walk. Alfie, though small, was used to long walks exploring the countryside wherever they pitched up, and she hadn’t taken him on a single walk today. He needed his exercise, and she needed some air. Hurrying down the garden, she picked her way across the rosemary and lavender encroaching onto the cracked slabs and pulled open the gate before heading towards the end of the close.
She continued walking, only slowing her pace as she reached the main road and turned left towards the edge of the village.
‘Umm, Hannah, do you want me to calculate a quote still?’
