Page 38 of Summer at Harbour View House
‘For now,’ Lizzie said. ‘For now.’
‘You mean, they might sell it?’
‘It’ll come down to a vote,’ Lizzie said. ‘The Weasel’s already got a few of the parishioners in his pocket. The others won’t hold out for long, those few that are left. Only a matter of time.’
‘It’s sad, don’t you think?’
Lizzie pouted, and her wisened old face looked about to shed a tear. ‘It’s gonna be a long, long low season, this year, maid. Might be one without end.’
14
An Argument at Home and a Surprising Revelation
Lizzie excusedherself to get back to the pub, choosing to walk around the front cliffs back to the harbour in order to avoid running into Paul Stoat. Natasha sat on the rocks and watched him while he finished his measurements, then headed back to a large Mercedes parked at the bottom of the road and drove off back to the village.
A breeze was drifting down the valley. Natasha had almost forgotten her pasty, so ate it while the last warmth lingered, then headed back up to the house. From the bottom of the steps she heard a frantic banging sound from the front garden, so hurried up, stopping as she reached the garden gate.
Two shirtless men were standing by the front door, facing away from her, surrounded by pieces of wood and tools.
‘Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing? This is my house.’
At the sound of her voice, one of them let go of a mug he was holding. It hit the front step and shattered, spraying his feet with coffee.
‘What the hell…?’
He jumped back, shaking coffee off his flipflops as Hannah emerged from the house, wearing a man’s shirt over shorts that were barely visible. Her toenails shone sparkly green at the end of her sandals. The other man turned to Natasha.
‘Davey?’
‘Hey Natasha. Hannah thought Ben and me could help with your front door.’
The other man turned. He was a little older than Davey, but with an even more impressive physique, all ridges and lines, his chest hair bleached from the sun. His head was a little large, as though it needed to be to accommodate the jutting jaw that looked capable of breaking through Arctic ice sheets, and he wore a smug smile that Natasha felt an unnatural urge to slap off his face.
‘I heard there’s a job going at Flambards,’ he said, looking her up and down. ‘On the Ghost Train. I reckon you should apply.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘You’re good at surprising people.’
He bent down and began to pick up pieces of broken crockery, stacking them in a neat pile by the side of the path.
‘Hannah, what are you doing?’ Natasha said.
‘Well, it wasn’t safe, was it?’ Hannah said. ‘And I know you tried to fix it, but it wasn’t that good a job—’
‘It was my first effort.’
‘But Davey and Ben know what they’re doing.’
Natasha resisted the urge to say,Because they’re men?There would be no coming back from her strong, independent woman tag then. Instead, she said, ‘This isn’t our house. You can’t just call people in to fix stuff.’
‘I thought you said it was your house,’ Ben said.
‘They’re just helping out,’ Hannah said.
‘We can fix your drainpipe when we’re done,’ Davey said. ‘It’s no trouble.’
‘I can do it!’ Natasha snapped.
