Chapter 7 #2
Greg raised his brows as he took off his waterproof jacket and hung it up, before taking Ula’s coat from her and hanging it next to his.
‘Righty-oh. We’ll keep an eye out and try not to hoover him up.’ He gave a quick wink.
‘Thanks,’ Lara said. ‘I was about to have breakfast. Just some toast. But would you like tea or coffee?’
‘I’d kill for a cuppa. Milk, two sugars, please. Ula will have water.’
‘Please, yes. Water.’ Ula confirmed.
‘Where do you want us to start?’ Greg asked, glancing into the sitting room. ‘You don’t have much furniture. Or haven’t you moved in yet?’
‘I want to get the repairs and decorating done first,’ Lara said. There was no point in telling him this was not her new home and she wouldn’t be living in the cottage permanently ‘Start wherever you like. Ula and I did a lot yesterday but there’s still plenty to do.’
‘I can see that,’ said Greg, sounding unimpressed. ‘We’ll start in here then.’
He marched into the sitting room and Ula followed behind him.
Lara went to put the kettle on, and while she waited for it to boil, she opened the back door and peered out into her garden.
The torrential rain had flattened some of the long grass, and a few of the plants, but it was still more like a jungle than a peaceful place to sit and relax.
When she did tackle it, she wouldn’t be surprised to find a long lost tribe hiding amongst the bushes.
She might have to employ a gardener at some stage, but she was looking forward to getting stuck in, once the weather improved again.
It was strange to think that, in the last two days she would have spent time with more people – and animals – than she had probably spent time with for the last two years. Maybe longer.
Although she did go into Pliny Software’s offices from time to time, and several people worked there. She was one of a handful of employees who worked from home, but the only illustrator to do so.
And she did go to the company Christmas party every year, but only because Jenny virtually forced her to, and Lara never stayed until the end.
With the exception of one year when she had got totally sozzled on Pliny’s Punch.
She still hadn’t got a clue what was in that, and neither had anyone else, it seemed.
But she had ended up in a stationery cupboard with one of the game designers.
He was actually rather nice. Although the less said about him the better.
It transpired he had both a wife and a girlfriend, neither of whom understood him, or so he said.
Lara understood him completely. He was simply a jerk.
A jerk who not only designed games for every platform, but who also played them in real life. With people’s feelings.
She glanced towards Tom’s cottage. There were no lights on again this morning and it must be as dark as a dungeon inside in this weather. She had the lights turned on in almost every room, although she would turn most of them off once the cleaners had gone. She’d keep at least one or two on though.
Perhaps Tom preferred to sit in the dark.
But why would he? And if he had the TV switched on, surely she would see a flicker of light from that.
Maybe he preferred the radio. Or reading.
But he would need some light to be able to read in this weather.
None of his curtains were closed but she couldn’t see inside.
The kettle clicked off and Lara closed the back door and walked over to the kettle where she made one mug of strong tea with milk and two sugars for Greg, and one mug of coffee for herself.
She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge for Ula and stuffed it under her arm, and then she took them all through to the sitting room where she placed them on the new dining table.
Greg switched off the hoover and smiled, and Ula stopped polishing for one second.
‘Do you know Tom?’ Lara asked, unable to stop a niggling feeling she was experiencing. They both nodded. He was clearly the only Tom in Bluewater Bay. She was going to add that he lived in the cottage across from hers but she hadn’t needed to. ‘Is it usual for him to sit in the dark?’
‘I no understand,’ said Ula, glancing at Greg.
‘Wouldn’t have thought so,’ Greg replied. ‘Why?’
‘Because his lights were off early last night and there aren’t any on this morning.’
‘Spying on your new neighbour?’ Greg joked. At least, Lara hoped he was joking.
‘No. Just … noticing, that’s all.’
‘He might not be up yet,’ Greg said between slurps of his tea.
‘He must be eighty if he’s a day. And old folks feel the cold, so best place to be on mornings like this is tucked up in bed till noon.
That’s what I’ll be doing when I’m old and grey.
Unless I win the Lottery and then I’ll be living on a luxury yacht, travelling the world, surrounded by women half my age. ’
‘Good luck with that,’ Lara said.
Ula looked confused as she continued polishing the wooden sash window frames.
‘Do you have his number, Greg?’
‘Who? Tom’s?’
Lara nodded.
‘No. Why would I ever need to call him? I often see him in The White Lion. He might be there. That’s his favourite haunt. There, and Bonnie’s Diner.’
‘It’s too early for the pub to be open. But Bonnie’s Diner might … Wait. Wasn’t his wife called Bonnie? I thought…’
‘She was dead? She is. But she owned it for years, and Tom couldn’t bear to part with the place.
His wife had loved it so much. I think he hoped that grandson of his would come and take it over.
He worked there during his school holidays when he was younger although he also helped out on the construction sites.
But he had no real interest in either and he was far too grand, and probably too rich, to want to move back here from the bright lights of London, to a tiny seaside village and run his granny’s little diner.
Tom arranged for one of the staff to manage it after Bonnie passed away.
He goes there a lot. Sometimes for his dinner and sometimes for breakfast. Sometimes for both. And sometimes for lunch too.’
‘He didn’t mention it to me,’ Lara said with genuine disappointment.
After everything she had told him, she felt a tad hurt that he had kept something like that under his hat. Or cap, in his case. Especially as the place was clearly so special. She would be asking him about it the next time she saw him.
But that must be where he was. She could stop worrying about him now.