‘I really don’t want to take up your time, Adam, or for you to use up your holiday on my behalf,’ she said evenly. ‘I’m sure you’ve other far more interesting things to think about than me and my cottage.’
‘Oh, not true,’ he said at once. ‘As a matter of fact, I’ve already been here a number of weeks, and I was beginning to get quite bored. Your current project might prove to be an interesting diversion for me—and, well, you know, a pair of brawny arms can be useful at times.’
He looked pointedly at her own slender frame in a way which made Melody’s colour rise, and she shrugged resignedly. The fact was that being here now, in the revealing light of day, had made her feel less sure of herself. When they’d bought and furnished their flat in London, Crispin had been there, and they’d worked as a team and had lots of interested friends all helping out. But now she was here, alone, in virtually unknown territory—even though her mother had spoken many thousands of words about the place, which had made it seem familiar.
Melody’s earlier euphoria was threatening to give way to a feeling of doubt. Had purchasing the cottage been something that she was going to regret? she wondered. Then she scolded herself! What was the matter with her? This wasn’t like her. Of course she’d cope alone—hadn’t her mother had to do that, all her life?
‘I vote that we first of all go to the Rose & Crown for coffee,’ Adam said brightly, ‘and then decide on a plan of action.’
‘It can’t be that time already, surely?’ Melody said, glancing at her watch. ‘Anyway, Fee’s breakfasts are so generous, coffee will seem an unnecessary indulgence.’
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed lazily eating bacon, eggs, sausages and mushrooms, followed by lovely warm, crunchy toast and fresh farmhouse butter. Not to mention home-made marmalade!
‘Well, holidays are a time for indulging ourselves,’ Adam said firmly.
Melody looked at him shrewdly. There was a distinct change in his attitude from when they’d first met, she thought—the animosity he’d demonstrated seemed to have disappeared. Her eyes narrowed briefly. If he thought that he’d met someone who’d be good for a holiday fling, he was going to be disappointed. She was not on the market for such things, thanks very much.
Patting the other box for her to sit down, Adam leaned back nonchalantly. ‘See—this feels cosy already,’ he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
‘Um, well…not as cosy as it will do—in time,’ Melody retorted as she sat down as well.
‘Talking of which,’ he went on, ‘how much time do you have?’
‘Just under two weeks—’ she began, and he cut in.
‘Your employers are very generous,’ he said. ‘From what you’ve told me, you’ll have had about six weeks off, won’t you? Do all the staff enjoy such annual freedom?’
‘Some do—sometimes,’ she replied shortly. ‘We’ve had an exceptionally tough time this last year. We—me and the rest of the team—often don’t leave the office until ten o’clock or after, and we always start early. They are very long days,’ she added, trying to hide the irritation she felt at having to defend herself. What did he know?
‘Mmm… You’re a fund manager, you said?’ he went on. ‘It must be fun, playing around with other people’s money.’ He’d only made the remark to annoy her. He realised only too well what a highly skilled and specialised job it was.
‘Oh, it’s great fun. A real laugh,’ Melody said dryly. ‘We all sit there, playing Monopoly with millions and millions of pounds which don’t belong to us.’ She paused. ‘For your information, we spend hundreds of hours researching the companies we invest in on behalf of others, going over and over it until we’re satisfied. Being in charge of pension schemes, where we’re fully aware how we affect people’s future well-being, is a nail-biting process which is taken very seriously.’ Her eyes flashed as she spoke, as she relived just how much effort everyone had put in during the year to keep pace with the country’s fluctuating economy and prospects.
After a few moments she calmed down. He’d made a flippant remark which she’d taken too seriously, she reasoned. She had the distinct impression that he’d only said it to get her going—and she’d taken the bait!
Adam had been watching her closely as she’d been speaking. ‘Do you like what you do? Do you enjoy it?’ he asked casually.
‘Yes, of course! I wouldn’t do it otherwise. I can’t see myself doing anything else, ever.’
Well, he’d known she was a career woman. She was not going to tear herself away and come all the way down here just for a few days now and then. It was a total waste for her to own this cottage, he thought. It was like a spoilt child, seeing something in a shop window that he thought he wanted but which would never leave the toy cupboard.
‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘I don’t want to think about work—there are other things on my mind! I need to hire someone to clean the cottage from top to bottom. I expect there are locals who might be glad of some work?’
‘Oh, don’t count on that,’ he said bluntly. ‘Casual labour isn’t that easy to come by—just ask Fee! All the guesthouses use up most of what’s on offer.’ He paused. ‘And I’m afraid we don’t run to agencies here, to cope with such demands.’ He grinned. ‘I’d hazard a guess that it’s going to be just you and me, Mel!’ Looking at her soft hands and beautifully manicured nails, he smiled inwardly. She might be a whiz-kid at what she did for a living, but he somehow couldn’t imagine the woman down on her knees with a scrubbing brush!
Melody shrugged. ‘Well, in that case the first thing will be to buy cleaning materials,’ she said, fielding his remark briskly. She knew very well what he was thinking: that she wasn’t used to domestic labour. Well, he’d got another thing wrong, she thought. Even though her mother had always put education at the top of the list for her daughter, Frances had also encouraged Melody to help with everything in the house—and she had. And when Frances had been unwell, which had been the case often in the years before the woman’s untimely death six years ago, Melody had taken over. Shopping, cooking a nourishing meal and baking a cake were no problem!
‘And what about you and your extended holiday?’ Melody asked suddenly. ‘I suppose being the privileged son in a family business means you have all the perks—which obviously means lots of time off. I wonder what the other staff think of that!’
‘Oh, the staff don’t have any problems with that,’ he said, unperturbed at her remarks. ‘In fact, they are extremely happy with their lot. They’ve never had it so good, and they’re grateful.’
Suddenly a light footstep outside heralded Fee’s appearance, and she popped her head in through the open door, beaming at Melody.
‘I just had to call by and say welcome to our new neighbour,’ she said, and Melody was struck by Fee’s kind enthusiasm—which was more than generous in view of the circumstances.
She came in and looked around her, and Adam immediately stood up.
‘Come and sit down on this lovely upholstered seat, Fee,’ he said jovially. ‘Not quite up to modern standards, but needs must.’ He pulled the woman gently towards him on to the box he’d been sitting on, and just then his mobile rang. He wandered outside to answer it. Fee looked across at Melody.
‘You must be thrilled, Mel,’ she said simply. ‘This is going to be such a lovely change from your home in London.’
‘Yes, of course…’ Melody replied quickly, feeling slightly awkward. ‘You run a marvellous guesthouse, Fee,’ she said hurriedly. ‘Everything seems to run like clockwork. Which means, of course, that someone—you—works extremely hard all the time. Success at anything never happens by chance, does it? It’s always hard graft in the end.’
Fee