Chapter Sixteen
The One Where Kate Realises Dev Does Something to Her
Kate tried not to laugh. If Dev’s expression was anything to go by – emphasised by the disarray of his hair – the ‘team’ had already started doing their thing.
‘Sorry. Am I late?’
‘No.’ He stood aside so she could enter. ‘They were all early and are now on their second cups of tea. Stella says she can’t keep up with the demand for biscuits.’
‘I’ve brought seconds,’ Kate reassured him as she made to remove her boots.
‘It’s fine. Leave them on. No danger of slipping on these stone floors,’ he added.
Kate smiled faintly as they walked down the hall. ‘The designer heels weren’t a fit for today, either,’ she quipped, and Dev flashed her a keen glance.
Before he could say anything, however, a sound of hammering came from behind the door on the right.
‘Are you having work done in that gorgeous room?’
‘Sadly.’ Dev led her further along the hallway. ‘Despite spending the earth on the renovations a few years ago, Grandy’s desire that the period features remain intact hasn’t solved a long-standing damp issue on the seaward-facing wall.’
He opened the door to a central room housing a vast old wooden table in the centre and a sitting area near the hearth. It was a stunning space, filled with light from an ornate glass hexagonal roof.
The sing-song of conversation was punctuated by cups clinking in saucers and plates being passed around. A Mad Hatter’s tea party of sorts – with less hats and perhaps slightly more madness.
‘Good morning,’ Kate called over the buzz, placing her bag where Dev indicated at the end of the table. He moved over to the sideboard, and she eyed him covertly as she extracted her laptop and notepad, smiling when he placed a cup of coffee beside her, a biscuit balanced on the saucer.
‘Thank you,’ she mouthed as he inclined his head and walked off to resume his place at the opposite end of the table.
Kate had known Nicki couldn’t make it today, due to her shift at the hotel salon, and she sent Jean a grateful smile as she cautioned her mum to silence. Once everyone had quietened down, there was an update on progress. It didn’t take long, because there wasn’t much.
She ran through the list of suggested activities, but was pretty sure Dev was the only person listening and made the only helpful suggestion, that perhaps they might be able to use the small village school and its playground as a venue. Determining to follow it up, Kate knew it was time to draw things to a close. She cleared her throat, and when that made no difference, tapped her cup with a teaspoon.
‘And I says, didn’t I Cleggie, I told her—’
Old Patrick rolled his eyes. ‘Shut up, you old nag. Young maid wants a word.’
‘Patrick,’ Dev cautioned.
‘I just wanted to ask you, Pat, about the flyer drop? Did you manage to get rid of them all?’
‘By heck, we did!’ Patrick nodded vigorously.
‘Okaaaay.’ Kate looked around the table. ‘So you all got one, did you? Through your letterbox?’
There were a few furtive glances exchanged, but then Phoenix reached down and withdrew a handful of battered glossy pages and placed them on the table.
‘I think when Pat says he and his mates got rid, he means they no longer have them. I found this batch stuffed into a bin in the Lugger.’
All eyes fastened on Patrick who glared around the table. ‘Do’n you go looking at me, you cheeky beggars. We was asked to get rid of ’em all, an’ we did. Good and proper, like.’
Kate’s gaze shot down the table to Dev, her lips parted, but words failed her as he held her gaze, then gave a faint shake of his head, negating his financial contribution. She drew in a short breath, her mind spinning through the reprint costs and the waste of time they currently incurred.
Masking her shock as best she could, she directed a smile at the uncomfortable faces around the table.
‘Never mind. I’ll print a few batches on the home printer. They won’t be as smart, but it will have the same information on.’
‘I’ll do it,’ Jean offered, and Kate’s heart warmed even further towards her. ‘If you can guillotine them.’
Patrick sent a startled look in Jean’s direction, and Kate hid her smile. She was a bit miffed, but the crime, such as it was, didn’t warrant a personal punishment.
‘Thank you.’
There wasn’t really a lot more to be done or said, and they all filed out, Old Patrick wheeling Mrs Clegg in her chair, but as they passed Kate in the doorway, the elderly lady reached out a hand and clasped Kate’s.
‘Do’n mind Pat, my lovely. If he can see an easy way out of doin’ anythin’, he will. ’Tisn’t personal.’
Kate leaned down and placed a kiss on Mrs Clegg’s leathery cheek. ‘Bless you. Thank you for coming again.’
Closing the door on the last of the team, Kate leaned against it, deflated.
‘More coffee? Or something stronger?’
She looked over as Dev indicated the drinks trolley next to the sideboard housing the coffee.
‘Tempting, but I’d better stick to caffeine, thanks.’
‘So where do we stand? From what I can see, all you did was run through everything that needs to be done, and then give yourself the tasks.’
Kate followed Dev to the comfier seating area at the far end of the room, sinking onto a nicely worn-in leather sofa opposite an ornate hearth. She looked around with pleasure at the décor, a stylish mix of contemporary style against the period features.
‘This is a beautiful room, even without the views of the water.’
‘Or the damp,’ Dev added, taking the armchair nearer the hearth.
‘Is it serious?’
Dev pulled a face, which did nothing to detract from his attractiveness, and Kate dipped her head to stare into her cup.
This needs to stop , she silently chided.
‘There seems to be a problem near the window, but they’re not sure that’s the root cause.’
Kate took a sip of coffee, relishing its bite and determining to fix her attention more firmly on the conversation rather than how snugly Dev’s sweater fitted.
‘I remember those gorgeous windows from the wedding.’
Releasing a small huff, Dev placed his mug on the coffee table. ‘The maintenance bill isn’t such a pretty sight.’
Kate’s brow furrowed. Was it inappropriate to ask if—
‘Not that it’s about the money,’ Dev added before she could speak. ‘But they are all hand-made to specific measurements, as you can imagine with the arches. Anyway, they think the storms before Christmas which blew in off the sea have caused some water ingress by one of the chimneys. Someone’s going up tomorrow to assess it. If so, it’s an easier fix, more a decorating repair job, but it’s caused a section of the shell frieze to protrude, so that will need replacing.’
Kate placed her mug on the table too. ‘And that’s a costly job too, I assume.’
‘Grandy’s incredibly protective of the frieze. He had it put in back when he used to stay here a lot, said he had it done for a friend. He’s never struck me as sentimental, nor shown any interest in shells, so it must have been a very special one.’
With a laugh, Kate studied the man opposite. When had she decided he was nice? When had she realised she actually enjoyed chatting with him?
‘Look.’ Dev leaned forward suddenly in his seat, and Kate’s heart did a small skip as he held her gaze with an intense look. ‘I’m sorry. I had a feeling you’d overheard me. At the hotel, before you slipped…’ His shoulders sank as he brushed his fringe aside. ‘I kept wanting to say sorry, but —’
‘It’s okay,’ Kate reassured him, realising it was. ‘I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I was a bit stuck.’
‘It’s no excuse, but it’s Leigh. She…’ He huffed out a breath, falling back against the chair. ‘She imagines things, and sometimes I just don’t know how to shut her down.’
Kate wasn’t sure what she could, or ought to, say but then a knock on the door came and a young man in work gear entered the room.
‘All right, gaffer? Can you come dreckly? Jago’s ready to show you the damage.’
Dev was already on his feet. ‘Sorry, Kate. I’d best go. Feel free to finish your coffee. We’ll catch up later on the fayre?’
‘I’m done.’ Kate waved a hand at her almost empty mug and followed the men from the room. ‘I’ll message you, see if we can set up a call in a day or so.’
With that, she left Dev to it and made her way back along the lane into town, her mind veering from the long list of things she ought to be concentrating on and the strange, unfamiliar, frisson of pleasure derived from being on the receiving end of one of Dev’s genuine, warm smiles and finally understanding how much he’d wanted to say sorry.
A week later, as she worked through a proposal for a business in Truro for a two-day residential seminar in September, Kate took a call from Arabella Tremayne.
‘I have been increasingly surprised not to have heard from you after my generous offer of assistance.’
Kate eyed the phone warily, then returned it to her ear. ‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Tremayne. I did leave you a message the other week. To be honest, there isn’t really a lot to report other than the date and the nature of the event changing from a full-blown festival to a more traditional village fayre.’
A bristling silence was the response, before…
‘I see.’ There was a further pause. ‘And when do you propose having a programme ready? I have fulfilled my promise, you see. There were several of my prominent connections willing to advertise, though I’m not so sure they will be interested now the festival is to be such a low-key, community event.’
‘That’s lovely of you, Mrs Tremayne, but honestly, we have no need of a formal programme now, so do please thank your… connections but we do hope they will still come along to support us at the time. At least,’ Kate hesitated, then went on to explain the lack of a suitably sized venue.
Kate fully expected the call to be over, along with the withdrawal of any further offer of help, but to her surprise, after another pause, Arabella Tremayne spoke.
‘I would like to attend the next meeting. Will Oliver Seymour be there? If so, let me know the date.’
The call ended and Kate lowered her phone to the desk, wondering what the self-styled lady of the manor would make of the fayre ‘team’. As for involving Oliver…
Kate shook her head. Madness. With zero expectation of help from such an unlikely source, she was soon engrossed in her work again.