Chapter Four
I Don’t Want a Yacht for Christmas,
There is Just One Boat I Need
Gemma stared at Anna, lost for words. Her thoughts obliged, however.
Live with the pampered prince? Worse: look after him? And cook ?
Her mind screeched to an imaginary halt.
‘Na-ah.’ Matt shook his head vehemently.
‘Whyever not?’ Anna asked, her gaze moving from Gemma to her brother. ‘You need someone to look after the day-to-day running of the house, and Gemma wants a part-time job and the peace and quiet to—’
‘It wouldn’t work,’ Gemma interjected. She didn’t want Matt to know she enjoyed writing; she sensed that it would result in another mocking brow-raise. ‘And I’m not living with a total stranger.’
Anna chuckled. ‘He is house-trained, despite appearances. Besides, there’s a cute cottage directly behind the house. You could live there.’
‘You’re serious.’ Matt looked from his sister to Gemma, who raised her own brow. ‘I need to think about it.’
‘Well don’t think too long, Matt,’ Anna cautioned, getting to her feet and heading towards the kitchen. ‘Finding someone at short notice isn’t going to be easy, and Gemma could walk into one of the seasonal jobs this afternoon if she wanted to.’
Matt slumped back in his seat, while Gemma got up and scooted over to join Anna by the sink.
‘There’s a snag,’ she said quietly, glancing at the hunched figure across the room. ‘I can’t cook. Not even the basics.’
Anna looked astonished. ‘But you said food interested you, and you seem to love it so much.’
Gemma rolled her eyes. ‘Eating it, yes!’
‘Oh!’ A splutter of laughter, then Anna’s expression became thoughtful. ‘Despite what I told Matt, I can easily stock the freezer with dinners for a week or so, to get you started, and give you some lessons on basics. I’ve seen the cottage, it’s self-contained. You’d only need to go over to the main house to deal with any housework or Matty’s meals. You could keep yourself to yourself, write to your heart’s content.’
The temptation was strong. Staying on a secluded creek would be perfect for time and space to fill her journals, something Gemma was desperately keen to do before resuming her travels.
‘Besides, once he’s engrossed in his music I doubt he’ll notice what he’s eating.’
Gemma swung round as Matt joined them.
‘If you want the gig, it’s yours.’ He named a sum. ‘That’s weekly and includes your bed and board. Take it or leave it.’
Anna huffed a breath. ‘No danger you’ll win the charm offensive, Matty.’ She turned to Gemma. ‘How about it? You’ll be doing me a massive favour because if you don’t take the role he’ll keep hassling me.’
‘Hey! I thought you loved me!’ Matt looked genuinely discomfited and, once again, Gemma felt a begrudging flicker of sympathy for him.
‘I do,’ Anna assured him. ‘Despite your best efforts at present to appear otherwise, you’re quite adorable. And having a brother in my life to hassle me is a joy. But Oliver doesn’t like it.’
A noise reminiscent of a growl emanated from the man by Gemma’s side as Anna returned to the table.
‘Oliver needs to lighten up a bit.’
Gemma’s sympathies transferred quickly to the unknown Oliver. This man would be lucky if she didn’t strangle him with one of his damp towels.
‘Well? Do we have a deal?’ He held out his hand, and Gemma eyed it warily.
The sum he’d named was generous, especially as she’d have no outgoings. She’d be able to save loads until the new passport arrived – if only these strikes would be over. There would also be the space and time to write. The niggling doubt over her ability to serve up nutritious meals that didn’t taste and look like cat food was a concern, but, if Anna thought she could teach Gemma enough not to poison her precious brother, then surely it would be fine?
‘No deal yet – I’d like to see the cottage and judge if the house looks manageable.’
‘Fair enough.’ Matt dropped the hand, but his rich hazel eyes raked Gemma’s face. ‘Are you old enough to be a housekeeper?’
‘Matty!’ Anna threw him an indignant look across the room.
‘It’s okay.’ Gemma raised her chin. ‘I’m used to it.’
Matt said nothing, his gaze still holding hers, and Gemma swallowed quickly. He did not have thick, dark-brown hair that she had a sudden urge to run her hands through. He certainly did not have a smile tugging at the corners of a firm but sensual mouth, and he most definitely did not attract her…
‘All sorted?’ Anna joined them, failing to conceal her amusement as they both started.
‘I need to show her the place first.’ Matt checked his phone, then nodded. ‘No time like the present. Come on. Hope you’ve got sturdy boots. It’s a forty-five-minute walk from here, and the woodland path is pretty challenging at the end.’
‘Why haven’t you hired a boat?’
‘They only have tourist licences from April to October.’
‘And there’s the small matter of you having no familiarity with them,’ his sister added.
‘I’ve been on a yacht!’ Matt’s tone was indignant, and Anna patted his arm consolingly.
‘That was for a music video, Matty, fifteen years ago, and you said a crew manned it.’
Gemma raised a hand. ‘I can handle a boat, but I don’t have one on me at the moment.’
‘You could have borrowed Oliver’s but it’s having its winter service this week.’
Sending Anna a reassuring look, Gemma pulled on her jacket. ‘I’ll have a word with Tommy the Boat. He’ll know how to get one sorted.’
Matt made a small sound. ‘You’re growing on me.’
Did she want to?
Saying goodbye to Anna, Gemma followed Matt out of the door. Was this one of the stupidest things she’d ever considered?
Conversation – such as it was – was sporadic as they walked, mainly because of the steep incline out of Polkerran as they followed the valley bordering the River Polwey upstream, but partly due to the single-track nature of the paths once they headed downhill through the woods.
At the bottom of the long, precipitous, root-strewn slope the path forked, the main track branching left over a wooden bridge across a steam and disappearing into the trees on the other side, and to the right leading up to a gate marked private – no entry .
‘That takes you upriver to Polwelyn.’ Matt gestured. ‘It’s the nearest village but it doesn’t have a shop, only one of those trad pubs you find down here. You know the sort, beams covered in horse brasses and a smuggler in every corner.’
The path was muddy, and Gemma squelched after Matt, who unlatched the gate and stood back so she could precede him.
‘Thanks,’ she muttered.
‘I’ll show you the main house first.’ Matt led the way up the short path to the building. The inlet of water was visible to the left, but there was no time to appreciate it as the door swung open, and Gemma followed him into a boot room.
Leaving their grubby footwear upended on a rack, they padded along the hallway in socks as Matt gestured at doors.
‘Two bedrooms and a bathroom here.’ He then waved to the right. ‘Hallway and two staircases, more bedrooms and bathrooms up both.’
They went up a short flight of steps and emerged into a spacious room that took Gemma’s breath: a high, vaulted ceiling, whitewashed, stone walls, and light – despite the grey day – flooding in through the windows, one of which was delightfully circular and set deep into the thick walls.
‘This is gorgeous.’
‘Kitchen over here.’ Matt waved at the well-equipped, large kitchen taking up half the room. ‘Log burner comes in handy. I tend to eat out here.’
Longing to explore the cosy-looking living area more thoroughly, Gemma followed Matt into a conservatory, only to exclaim again.
‘How lovely!’
It had floor-to-ceiling windows, giving the impression of being in the embrace of the wooded hillside and the glimmering waters of the creek. There was a wooden deck outside and steps down to a smooth lawn, which sloped gently towards the water’s edge – the tide was in – and there was a substantial pontoon, no doubt for those who knew how to steer a small boat.
The dining table had twelve chairs and Gemma felt a pang for Matt, sitting here to eat his solitary meals.
‘Can you make some tea?’ He gestured towards the kitchen.
‘Why don’t you make it?’
‘Because it’s your job?’
‘I haven’t accepted it yet, which makes you the host.’
Matt growled, then walked over to fill the kettle. ‘What else do you need to know?’
‘Where I’m to live. What it is you specifically want doing.’
I assume you can clean your own teeth?
‘I need the sheets changed weekly, bathroom cleaned and towels changed daily. All meals every day. The log burner dealt with. Rest of the house will need cleaning as and when. My laundry.’ He opened the tea caddy. ‘Anything else I think of.’
Gemma watched him make the tea.
‘Towels don’t need changing every day. Haven’t you read those little cards in hotel rooms about helping the environment?’
Matt didn’t answer, strolling over to a massive Smeg refrigerator to fetch the milk.
‘When will the band arrive? I’m not prepared to look after four of you.’
He picked up a spoon. ‘The new year, after Anna’s wedding is over.’
Gemma leaned against the counter. ‘Sounds like perfect timing. I should be ready to leave by then. I’d need a day off a week. You’d need to fund the fuel and hire of a boat. Oh, and someone will need to chop wood for the log burner.’
‘Peggy will sort that out.’
They settled at the large table in the conservatory, and Gemma wrapped her hands round her mug. Was she mad even considering this? She wasn’t sure if she liked Matt. Had he got hidden depths? Anna seemed to think so. Was there any iota of his sister’s sweet disposition buried deep inside? The fact Gemma found him easy on the eye frustrated rather than compensated.
Would it be worth the aggro, simply to top up her funds and to escape the small house in Polkerran?
‘I’d like to see the cottage.’
‘I’ll—’ Matt’s phone rang, and he snatched it up. ‘Hazza, my man. How’s it going?’ He put the phone to one side and mouthed, ‘Keys on hook by back door. Cottage across the yard,’ then returned the phone to his ear.
Gemma left the room, retraced her steps and found the keys, helpfully labelled The Cottage.
She passed a log store and opened the gate into a small garden, laid to lawn. Inside, the cottage had all she needed: a neat modern kitchen, a table and chairs by a window and a cosy sitting area with its own log burner, two small bedrooms and a bathroom. Tastefully furnished, it held a certain charm and, coupled with the glimpses of the creek from the windows, she felt she could pass a few months there with little problem.
Aside from the big problem in the main house.
When Gemma returned, Matt was still on his call, so she skipped up both staircases to inspect the bedrooms, scooping up used towels in each bathroom.
Gingerly, she entered the room Matt had clearly taken as his own. It had a window looking out over the creek. The bed was a mess and there were sheets of music on the floor, dirty coffee mugs on the desk and more used towels in the shower.
Shaking her head, she gathered them up and staggered down the stairs with her spoils, dropping them in the boot room. Soon she had the washing machine going with half the towels jostling with the soap suds, visible through the window.
‘This is ridiculous,’ Gemma said aloud as she walked back down the hall to the living area. ‘I’d rather do bar work than babysit a grown man who needs to get a life.’
She glanced at her watch. She’d walk up through the woods, grab a bottle of wine from the Spar and go back to her aunt’s for the evening. She felt her spirits rise. She’d head to Karma tomorrow, sit with a hot chocolate, watch more of the Christmas decorations go up and start writing notes about her early travels.
Assuming Matt’s call must have ended by now, Gemma wandered through the spacious sitting room with its leather squashy sofas, strewn with cushions and throws, and out into the empty conservatory.
Matt sat at a table on the lawn down beside the water.
Retrieving her boots, Gemma took the wooden steps from the decking and started to cross the grass. Time to tell Matt Locksley he was on his own.
The temperature had dropped. A chill wind swept into the creek from the river, which rippled in the distance, a dark-green ribbon against the backdrop of trees on the opposite bank.
Gemma shivered as she neared Matt.
‘I’m off. You can keep…’
Suddenly, she realised the air of dejection in the slumped figure at the wooden table. Head in his hands, body hunched – this was not a happy man. Was it to do with the phone call?
She took the last two steps carefully.
‘Er, Matt?’
His head shot up, and he looked round. His skin was ashen in the pre-dusk light and his eyes seemed raw with emotion.
‘Hey.’
Gemma hesitated.
Don’t feel bad for him.
‘I’ll get Anna to ask around for you. What you’re offering’s not for me.’
Expecting a brusque response, she hesitated as Matt turned back to contemplate the table.
‘Story of my life.’
He got to his feet, but it was as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
‘I’ll walk you back. It’s getting late.’
Damnit. This is no time to play the gentleman!
‘Alright.’ Gemma drew in a long breath. ‘Alright. I’ll do it. But I can’t start for a week.’ Could Anna teach her enough in that time?
‘Forty-eight hours?’ Matt assumed the puppy-dog eyes he’d used earlier on his sister, and Gemma braced herself.
‘Look, mate, you need me more than I need you.’
His expression brightened momentarily. ‘Technically, I need someone . It doesn’t matter who.’
Good. That way I won’t feel bad when you have food poisoning.
‘Fine. But I’m having that one day off a week. And you’d better pay on time.’