Page 20 of Summer at Harbour View House
‘Number 14, St. Juliot Lane,’ she said. ‘We must be close.’
They carried on downhill, the village opening out around them. It couldn’t have comprised of more than a couple of dozen houses, all backed up against the hillside, facing down to the harbour. They passed a village store and a tiny fish’n’chips shop, then a community centre and a pub.
‘We’re not going to starve,’ Natasha said. ‘Although I dread to think how much things cost around here.’
They only passed a couple of other streets, none of which seemed to go more than a couple of hundred metres before petering out. The road they were on led down to the harbour, and the narrow patch of rocky sand that must pass for the beach. Too worried that they had somehow made a wrong turn to be disappointed that it wasn’t an expansive and pristine patch of golden sand, she was about to suggest they go into the shop and ask for directions when Hannah suddenly let out an excited cry.
‘There!’ she said pointing at little more than an alleyway between the hillside and a large white house literally leaning over the harbour.
St. Juliot Lane. It didn’t look wide enough for vehicles to pass, and had a dead end sign at its head. It appeared to wind around the front of the headland, hugging the hillside, steps leading up to large houses built on terraces dug out of the slope.
‘Let’s just leave our stuff here for a minute,’ Natasha said, stretching out her back. She felt like someone had jammed handfuls of gravel into her spine. ‘We’ll see how far it is, then come back and get it.’
Hannah was practically floating with excitement as she skipped on ahead. Natasha, feeling a hundred years old, hobbled after her.
‘Twelve … thirteen … fourteen! Here it is!’
The number was on an overgrown plaque embedded in the hedge. A wide stone staircase led steeply up to a large white-walled beach house set in landscaped gardens. As they climbed the steps on to a slate paved path which led up to a large porch, Natasha found herself smiling.
The house was enormous. A patio stood to the side, a wooden bench overlooking the harbour that looked like a perfect place to drink wine and watch the sunset. And a wooden slat fence nearby couldn’t hide the bubbling of a spa.
‘We made it,’ she said, looking at Hannah and feeling a sense of triumph. ‘After all that, we made it.’
‘Whoopee!’ Hannah said, punching the air, just as the front door opened and a fat, sour-faced man stepped out. Balding, he had a ketchup stain on the string vest he wore, and was carrying a spatula in one hand which still dripped with the residue of some in-progress meal. He wore jeans splattered with dried paint and his fly zipper was undone.
‘Oi, get off my land,’ he shouted, waving the spatula in their direction. A lump of grease landed on the path at Natasha’s feet. Then, lifting an eyebrow at Hannah, he said, ‘Well, all right,youcan stay. Didn’t realise I’d booked the strippergram for today, but you might as well strut your stuff while you’re here.’
‘What are you doing in our house?’ Natasha said.
‘Excuse me,yourhouse? This here’smyhouse.’
Natasha frowned, trying to remember the details Tina had given her. A slow burning rage was rising. The last thing she wanted was to deal with some idiot squatter. This was their house—
‘We’re here to housesit for Irina Raffles,’ she said, remembering Tina’s sister’s unusual name. ‘Number 14, St. Juliot Lane. It has a beach nearby called Winter Vale—’
The man started laughing, patting his stomach, which jiggled beneath his vest.
‘Ah, for a minute I thought you were crazy. You mean, 14B. This here’s 14A. You’re in that dump next door.’
He flipped a thumb over his shoulder. Natasha turned to look, saw only a tatty roof appearing over a line of wind-bent, overgrown trees.
The man was still laughing. ‘Well, welcome to the neighbourhood,’ he chortled. ‘It’ll be a pleasure having you live next door. Be sure to stop over for a cup of sugar sometime.’
7
A Garden with a View and a House with no Door
Clearly more intelligentthan either of them, they found the chicken waiting down on the road. Hannah reached out a hand and pulled away the grass growing over the number, revealing a clod covered letter A.
‘I’m sure our place will be much better,’ Hannah said.
Natasha didn’t share her confidence, but at least they were nearby. ‘Tina never said anything about there being a 14A and a 14B,’ she said. ‘Although that doesn’t surprise me. This is probably all one of her twisted jokes. Like the time she offered me sugar for my coffee but it turned out to be salt.’
‘Oh. Did you drink it?’
Natasha sighed. ‘Of course not.’
‘Well, that was a lucky escape.’
