Page 78 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure
‘Hey, come on. We’ll find you a safe place again; don’t get upset.’
‘S…sorry, it’s my problem; I will sort it,’ Britta sniffed.
‘Your problem is my problem,’ Atticus said. ‘Look at me.’ Crouching down, he placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head until their eyes met. ‘We’ll sort this out, and everything will be fine, I promise.’
‘Okay,’ she sniffed and stroked his cheek.
Ness sat beside them and scratched at his leg with her paw.
‘She says you can always come and live in Winnie,’ Atticus joked and patted the dog’s head. ‘Winnie could be a travelling art gallery,’ he added, then frowned. ‘Well, that might not be the best solution, but please don’t worry.’ He reached for Britta’s hand and kissed it. ‘Let’s go and get somebreakfast.’
‘Maybe Cheryl and Ruby will have an idea or know of somewhere,’ Britta said.
‘Maybe,’ Atticus replied.
But as he placed his arm around Britta’s shoulders and they made their way to their friend’s chalet, Atticus could sense Britta’s distress and felt anxious too. His mind was racing with the weight of what she’d just told him.
Britta was about to lose her home. The cottage she’d transformed was so cosy and suited her quiet way of life.How could she replace such a perfect place? There had to be a solution, a clause, or someone who could help. Britta needed someone to fight for her, and he knew that he couldn’t stand by and let this happen.
Britta was upset and dabbed at her eyes. ‘It will be alright. I’ll have to figure something out,’ she said bravely as they approached Cheryl’s chalet.
But it wasn’t alright to Atticus. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘We’ll find a way.’
When Atticus left Britta and she went to work her shift at the café, he headed straight to find Erik at the campsite.
‘Hah! My friend, have a beer!’ Erik greeted him with a grin as Atticus stepped onto his pitch. Erik was in the middle of another workout, but unperturbed by the interruption. Noting the worry etched on Atticus’s face, Erik paused. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked.
‘I need help,’ Atticus said, twisting the cap from his beer. ‘Britta must move from her cottage. Mr Rodrigues, herlandlord, wants to sell it, and I don’t know what to do. The place is perfect for her, and finding something like it would be impossible.’
Erik raised an eyebrow. ‘Sit down.’ He pulled out two chairs and motioned for Atticus to join him. ‘I don’t see the problem.’
Atticus sat, his brow furrowing. ‘She’s so upset, and I need to find a solution. Do you know Mr Rodrigues?’ he asked.
‘Never heard of him. Don’t need to,’ Erik replied with a casual shrug. He took a long drink and wiped his toned chest with a towel. ‘It is simple,’ he commented. Then, studying Atticus, Erik leaned back and announced, ‘Buy the cottage.’
‘Eh?’ Atticus stared at Erik, bewildered.
‘It’s easy. If you love the woman, buy the place. Problem solved.’
Atticus blinked, his mind racing. ‘But… how does a Brit go about buying a house here?’
Erik waved away his concerns. ‘Yeah, I know there are difficulties for the British buyers with EU regulations, but if it helps, I’ll buy it for you. We’ll sort it out.’
Atticus stared at Erik, completely taken aback. He was astonished that his new friend had an instant solution and Britta’s problem could be overcome. ‘Well, I never thought…’ he began.
‘Can you afford it?’ Erik’s asked.
Atticus nodded. ‘Er… Yes, I can.’
‘Then it’s settled. I’ll take you to my legal guy, who handles all my Spanish business. He’ll take care ofeverything.’ Erik stood, slapping Atticus on the back. ‘All good?’ He held out his hand.
Atticus shook Erik’s hand firmly, still trying to process the sudden turn of events. ‘All good, I suppose,’ he replied.
‘Then we’ll go to see my man straight away, but first, we celebrate with more beer.’ Erik smiled and reached for another bottle.
In the heart of the town, where ornate architecture adorned a cluster of buildings, Erik and Atticus made their way to Resano Abogados de Propiedad. The property lawyer’s offices were behind a solid wooden door, where a brass plaque proudly announced the business’s name and the year it was established.
An elderly secretary, her greying hair scraped into a severe style, was dressed in black and greeted Erik with a warm smile.
