Page 24 of A Cornish Love Story
‘We might.’
‘Here.’ Kira pulled a blanket out of her bag, followed by packets of crisps and a bottle of Absolut Vodka.
‘It’s nuts that nobody’s bought it,’ Freddy said.
‘I think some property developer owns it now. I don’t know why they’ve chosen not to refurbish it.’ Ethan’s gaze was everywhere, taking in as much detail as he could by the light of his torch.
‘Probably waiting until the land increases in value,’ Orwell said, taking a four-pack of beer out of his rucksack. ‘Loads of developers hold onto old properties or land until the prices go up and they can make a fortune selling it on.’
‘How do you know that?’ Freddy asked with a laugh.
‘My old man.’ Orwell shrugged.
Ethan was standing by the huge fireplace, running his hands over the mantelpiece and the decorativeplasterwork that framed the hearth. ‘This is beautiful,’ he murmured, then crouched and shone his torch up into the dark space.
‘Careful,’ Orwell said. ‘You don’t know what’s been hidden up there. Could be a dead cat, and if you start poking about, a tiny skeleton will rain down on you.’
‘Gross,’ Kira said. ‘Orwell, have you forgotten that it’s my birthday?’
‘We’re in an abandoned house,’ he replied. ‘You didn’t pick a luxury hotel with a six-course meal and champagne for your celebration, so this is what you get.’
‘Murdered pets is still a low bar,’ Freddy said as he helped Kira spread the blanket on the dusty floorboards.
I crouched and took my own blanket out of my bag. It was fleecy, one of those ones that rolled up really tightly, navy blue with white stars all over it. I spread it on the floor and looked up to see Ethan watching me.
I sat down and patted the space next to me. ‘Come and join me on my blanket of stars.’
He sat beside me and took a bottle of gin and a packet of peanut M&Ms out of his coat pocket, adding them to our haul.
I tried to ignore the creaks and groans from the open doorway behind me, the rustling, scuttling noises that sent goosebumps racing over my skin.
‘What now?’ Ethan asked, handing me the gin bottle. ‘What do you want to do, Kira?’
‘Now?’ Kira took a swig of vodka and passed the bottle to Freddy, then held her torch under her chin so her face looked surreal, the shadows of her eyelashes like spiders’ legs on her cheeks, her eyes black voids of nothing. ‘Now, we tell each other ghost stories.’
Chapter Eleven
Now
‘How are you really?’ Ethan asked.
He had fiddled with the panel on the wall of the master suite, so the window was frosted, blocking out the intense glare of the evening sun. Cool air snaked around me, taking some of the heat out of my cheeks.
‘Really, I’m fine.’ I had to leave. I couldn’t be swayed by this decadent room and the man standing in it. He was a stranger now, anyway. So different to the boy I’d been in love with.
‘Are you getting lots of work at the paper?’ He had brought up two fresh glasses of champagne, and he held one out to me.
Despite my firm plan, I took the glass. ‘Don’t you know how much I’m getting, if you’ve been looking out for my byline?’
His smile flickered out, and he was back to being inscrutable.
‘I should go.’ I downed half my bubbles in one swallow. ‘The open house is over, so—’
‘I’m glad you’re here.’ Ethan leant against the chest of drawers. ‘I know it’s strange – it feelsreallystrange – but I’m still glad you came.’
I shrugged. ‘Why?’
He looked surprised. ‘I … wanted to see you. I’ve thought about you a lot, while we’ve been getting this place done.’
