New Beginnings for Bryony Bennett

Chapter Six

It was funny how you could slot so easily into the next chapter of your life and not really realise it had happened. Before her first day at Cosy Crafts, Bryony agonised over so much. What to wear for one. She’d make sure she wore a bra that held the girls in place, and knickers that still had the ability to hold in her tummy and not creep up into places no respectable knickers ought to be, of course. But what on top? She’d gladly binned the horrible, slippery, scratchy, full of static electricity suits that had been de rigueur when she’d worked in London. But as she’d not in a million years thought she’d need anything remotely work-like, they hadn’t been replaced. The money to buy clothes wasn’t a problem. What to buy was. How smart? How casual? What sort of shoes? She wouldn’t have to wear tights, would she? Why on earth hadn’t she asked Maddie when they were together? If she rang up now, she’d sound pathetic. There was nothing for it. Another trip across the water was needed. This time she’d leave Mop, hope he behaved and didn’t escape, and take the car. At least that way she’d minimise her time away.

Oh, the best laid plans. Bryony swore Mop was a mind reader. As she washed up her breakfast dishes he plonked himself in front of the back door. And refused to budge. Bryony considered her options. In this mood, Mop was an immovable force. If she tried to go out of the other door, he’d beat her to it. Maybe she’d find something in a box somewhere. She didn’t and three hours later, admitted defeat and rang Maddie.

Dex answered, and at her hesitant plea for a dog sitter, agreed with alacrity. ‘No worries. Shall we come and get him? Do the ‘ohhh come on Mop let’s go for a walk’ thingy. Mad’s gone to Exeter for some horsy do, so me and the kids are at a loose end.’

‘Are you sure?’ Bryony hoped she didn’t sound as doubtful as she felt. Mop could be ornery when he chose. Would he be happy with Dex and the twins?

‘Of course. I’m off to pick the girls up now, so we’ll be around in twenty minutes or so. Will that give you enough time at the shops before they close?’

Bryony laughed. ‘More than enough, thank you.’ If things worked to plan she’d be in and out and home in an hour. And that included finding somewhere to park.

The little town was busy, but not so much that she didn’t find a parking space with comparative ease. Maddie had mentioned the tiny car park, mainly known to locals, not far from the docks and down a few twittens from the shops. When Bryony had looked blank, Maddie had expanded. ‘You know, alleyways and so on. Always spaces in that car park in the week, especially in the afternoon, just before the schools are out.’

So it proved, and less than half an hour after Dex and the twins turned up, and Mop went off with them without a second glance, whine, or whimper, Bryony peered into a chain store clothing shop window and did her best not to shiver. Why on earth did designers think sludge was a good summer colour? Then it sank in. It might still be the height of summer, but the shops were gearing up for autumn. Not a lot of help. She grimaced and turned away from the window, and just managed to miss bumping into a smiling lady wearing the sort of clothes she envied. The woman wasn’t tall and had boobs to vie with Bryony’s own, but her dress. Oh, her dress. Bryony drooled.

‘Oops, sorry.’ The woman apologised. ‘I was too busy cringing at the doom and gloom clothes to pay attention to anything else. I mean, it’s depressing enough as it is to go to cold, damp, dark nights. Why add to our misery by wearing clothes that would camouflage us? And give us SAD and general depression.’

Bryony laughed, as the woman groaned and put her hands to her cheeks. A red stain showed under her honey–toned skin. ‘Oh shoot, don’t tell me you like them?’

‘Nope, don’t worry. I was doing my own shudder and glad I had no need to wear anything fashionable.’ Or at least she hoped she didn’t. After all, wasn’t that why she’d hightailed it into town?

No, she decided, as the woman made her farewells and walked away, she’d come for something practical. Smart casual. In her mind that was jeans or trousers and tops she could stretch in. Just like she’d seen in the supermarket. They might not be high fashion, but their sizing fitted her, and if she caught them on a nail or whatever, she wouldn’t have palpitations at the waste of money. Old habits die hard. Mind made up she went back to the car, to head to the out of town mega store she’d noticed a few miles away. Not her fun idea of a shop, but they’d have what she wanted.

They did, and as she turned into Maddie and Dex’s drive an hour or so later, Bryony was conscious of time well spent. Right down to the bottle of gin for Dex and Maddie, and the colouring books and crayons she knew the twins enjoyed. Instead of the rapturous welcome she expected from Mop, he merely looked up from the rug he was sprawled on with the twins as they watched TV and woofed his greeting.

‘Turncoat,’ Bryony said, with a laugh. ‘He’s been okay then?’

Maddie nodded. ‘They were like that when I got back. Drink?’

Bryony shook her head with regret. ‘Better not. I’ve got the car. And shopping.’ She didn’t say what.

‘Coffee then? I’ll give you some more gossip. Forewarned and all that again.’

Bryony nodded, as a hard lump of dread lodged in her stomach. What now? ‘Just a quick one. And hit me with the horribles.’

Maddie switched the kettle on and glanced at the children. ‘Little pitchers,’ she said, under her breath. ‘Dex hon, will you make the coffee whilst Bryony and I go and pick some roses?’

Dex looked up from the journal he’d been buried in. One quick glance between him and Maddie and he put it down. ‘Of course, my love. Sugar, Bryony?’

‘No, thanks.’ She followed Maddie outside. ‘Okay, who, what, why, and am I out of a job?’

‘What?’ Maddie snipped three just unfurled rosebuds from a bush covered in blooms of the palest pink, before she moved to the next bush of crimson. ‘Don’t be an idiot. No, just bloody Lottie. She’d decided to put it about that you only came here because of Dario. That you’re a gold digger, after his money. So, you might get a lot of nosy parkers in when you’re at work. If they get obnoxious, call me.’

Bryony spluttered. How wrong could someone be? ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said lightly. ‘And I assure you, even if I did fancy him, which as he’s been as polite as a flea on a mission would be highly unlikely if not impossible, I wouldn’t be after his money. I have enough of my own. More than. But that tidbit is between us, Maddie, no one else.’

Maddie nodded. ‘Fair enough. I guessed you couldn’t be short of a bob or two, buying CC. Lucky you. Anyway, be prepared for Lottie et al.’

‘Oh, I will, don’t you worry. She’s an irritant. Like spiders or ants or something. They can be brushed off.’

‘She’s more like one of those sticky willows. Hard to dislodge. Promise me you’ll ring if you need me? I intend to do all those housewifery things I turn a blind eye to. I reckon I’d enjoy a diversion, especially one to give Lottie a what’s for.’

‘I will, but I won’t need to.’

Brave words, but they didn’t dispel the butterflies in her stomach as a few days later, just shy of eleven am, she unlocked the door to Cosy Crafts, locked it again behind her and began to set up for the day. Maddie had emphasised that it was perfectly fine to stick a “back in ten minutes” sign on the door if she wanted to nip out for anything, but Bryony hoped she wouldn’t have cause to, unless she needed the loo. There was a small kitchen with a fridge, microwave and a kettle. She’d brought a supply of tea and coffee, and a salad, so she was sorted.

Around an hour later, her head was spinning. Three women had come in one after another and talked pointedly about someone called Phoebe, who had to move to Exeter as it was too expensive to buy in the village. This was said loudly, with a pointed look in Bryony’s direction. As they were standing in the middle of what was, after all, not an overly large space, she felt justified in being equally as pointed, and asked if there was anything she could help them with. She couldn’t be certain, but she thought one said, ‘move’, and was hushed by another. The third scowled.

‘Why did you move here?’

‘Well, hello and welcome,’ Bryony said in a pleasant voice, albeit with a snap to it. ‘Nice to meet you as well.’ As the woman’s accent had a more than a hint of the midlands in it, she decided she was justified in adding, ‘why did you?’

The woman flushed. ‘My husband is from around here.’

‘How nice. So is my uncle.’ Thank you, Jeb Bennett. ‘Now can I serve you ladies, or have you finished browsing?’

One harrumphed, one half smiled and the third stomped to the door. ‘Why shop where we aren’t wanted? Come on girls.’

That got Bryony riled. She might be persona non grata, but it shouldn’t affect Maddie’s source of income. ‘I think you’ve got something wrong there,’ she said. ‘Shoppers are always welcome. But if it’s my presence that offends you, Mrs Christie will be in at the weekend, and Maddie next week. No need to see me at all.’ She smiled. ‘See, sorted.’

‘And I’ll tell her you’re no benefit to the business,’ the one who she thought had said ‘leave’ retorted. ‘You incomers. No idea what it’s like to be part of the village.’

‘And nor will we if everyone is like you,’ Bryony countered back, unrepentant at her rudeness. She turned her back, hoped no one had a dagger, arrow or gun, and began to sort out the knitting patterns the woman had leafed through and messed up. The door banged, and the bell jangled so violently, she wouldn’t have been surprised to see it roll across the floor towards her. She breathed a sigh of relief. The first skirmish was over, and even if she wasn’t sure who came off best, at least she’d held her own. She headed for the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil. As gin was out of the question, coffee would have to do. The doorbell jangled again just as she poured water into cafetiere. With a silent sigh, Bryon y shoved t he plunger over the hot liquid and went back into the shop. She’d get the coffee sometime. Dario stood there, a feast for the eyes as ever, except for the scowl on his face. ‘Where’s Maddie?’

‘Not here.’

‘I can see that,’ he said impatiently. ‘Why not?’

‘She’s got a very important date,’ Bryony said, flippantly. Gah, she’d had enough of arsy local for the month, let alone the day. ‘It’s me or me. Or you’re on plums.’

‘A date?’ He sounded incredulous. ‘Who with? Dex is in London and I don’t believe for one moment she’d play away.’

That was one thing at least. Bryony tempered her reply from something very snarky to something much milder. ‘With a duster, a vacuum and evidently something grim called a deep cleanser for carpets. She says it’s her yearly domestic goddess day.’

Dario stared, blinked, broke a smile, scowled and swore. ‘Dammit to hell. I need to talk to her.’

‘Then you better go and see if you can drag her attention away from Mr Deep Cleanse.’

‘Shit. I don’t suppose... no...’ He answered himself and sighed. ‘Don’t antagonise people and lose her any more business. I heard the three witches call you all the names under the sun.’

That, Bryony decided, was an apt name but the intimation she’d been the antagonistic one, stung somewhat. ‘I’m not going to demean that with an answer. Now, anything else you want to castigate me about, or can I make my coffee?’

‘What? Oh, get your coffee.’ He turned on his heel and left with the door swinging behind him.

‘You’re welcome,’ Bryony yelled after him. He sketched a wave. Damn the man. Every time she wanted to hate him, he showed a human side. Or part of one. She made her coffee and ate a few mouthfuls of salad. All she needed was grotty Lottie to come in, and her day of harpies and nasties would be complete. Please, no.

It looked as if her plea would be answered. For the rest of the afternoon, she had a steady stream of customers. None were local, but all were pleasant. Several bought, some said they’d be back, and a couple admitted freely they were just passing the time until their husbands finished playing golf. Such a change from her earlier non-customers. All in all, she thought it had been a successful day. Five minutes before she was due to turn the sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed’, her day took a turn for the worse. Lottie Botte—it had to be her, she was the female equivalent of Dario—swanned in and glared when she saw Bryony.

‘You,’ she said, in a voice to cut ice. ‘You’re that woman who bought Cliff Cottage and gazumped my brother. You were pointed out to me. What are you doing here?’

Definitely Lottie. Bryony decided she’d had enough of being portrayed as a femme fatale or seducer of innocents, so she might as well act the part. ‘Plotting to seduce your brother, what else? Corrupt him and get him to be my slave.’ And if Lottie thought that remotely likely she was stupider than Bryony thought possible. ‘Have him on his knees, begging for my attention.’

‘What a vile thing to say,’ Lottie shouted. Her hands were clenched so tightly her knuckles were white. ‘How dare you? He’s too good for you. I’ll tell him how horrible you are, and he’ll hound you out, you wait and see.’

Bryony yawned. It was that or giggle. Talk about a second rate actress from an old ‘B’ film like her gran had talked about. It was pathetic.

Lottie shook with temper. ‘We don’t need the likes of you around here.’

What on earth does she think I am? A serial seducer of innocents...and not so innocents?

‘Tough, honey, I’m here to stay.’ Probably not a good idea to inflame her further, but Bryony was unrepentant. The day had been on the up until Lottie arrived.

‘You, you, hussy. Keep away from my brother, he’s too good for you, too kind and, loving and loyal and...’

Bryony saw red. Enough was enough. ‘Careful, Mrs Bott-ee.’ She said the name with exaggerated emphasis on purpose. ‘You’re beginning to make it sound incestuous. You don’t want people getting the wrong idea.’

Lottie went red, white and red again.

Oh God, I hope I haven’t given her heart failure. She might be annoying and like a stuck record, but Bryony didn’t want to cause the woman any harm. Just to get her to shut up and go away.

Lottie’s eyes bulged. ‘Urgh What a disgusting awful thing to say. How dare you. Ohh, Maddie.’

Maddie had entered unnoticed by either Bryony or Lottie.

‘That’s me,’ she said, as she closed the door and flicked the sign to closed. ‘Is this a private argument or can anyone join it? Lottie, you’re so loud I reckon they can hear you in the Red Pig.’

‘Did you hear what she said? She suggested me, Dario we...Ohh.’ Lottie burst into noisy tears. The hint of a calculated glance to see how Maddie reacted made Bryony suspect a lot was put on for show. She crossed her arms and leant on the counter to see what transpired next.

No,’ Maddie said. ‘You pulled her to that conclusion.’

‘What? I did not, she...oomph.’

Maddie put her hand over Lottie’s mouth. ‘Enough, Lottie, grow up.’ She moved her hand. ‘Get over yourself.’

‘Grow up? Me? It’s her coming here, sniffing around Dario. She’s not wanted. I don’t know who sold her that house, but they shouldn’t it was man... men...money...’ She sniffed and blew her nose on a hankie. No tissue, Bryony noted, but finest linen and lace edged. It figured.

‘Lottie go home, or you’ll really drop yourself in it. You’re showing yourself up.’ Maddie went to the door and opened it. She indicated the village green where a gas-guzzler was parked. ‘Off you go.’

‘It’s all her fault.’ Lottie shot a venomous glance at Bryony and spun around so fast her skirt made a stand of knitting needles sway and rattle. She ignored it and stormed out. Her parting shot of ‘she’ll wish she never came here,’ floated back to them.

Maddie shut the door again. ‘At the risk of being dramatic, I’d love to brush my hands together and say good riddance, but knowing her, we’re not rid, just having a temporary respite.’

Bryony rolled her eyes. ‘Oh dear, she really does hate me. Why? I’ve hardly spoken to Dario. He’s almost as negative, my popularity stakes are low, I’ll be having someone taste any food I purchase locally at this rate. I’ll buy my gin elsewhere, just to be on the safe side. You and Jeb are my witnesses, so if I suddenly pop my clogs, check for toadstools in my mushrooms.’ She laughed to show she was joking. Or she hoped she was.

‘And Dex, but that apart, you’re here in the village, and that’s enough. Maddie said mysteriously. ‘Fixated is our Lottie. She still sees Dario as her little brother who champions her and who she needs to keep an eye on. It was bad enough when he and I married, but at least I’m local. You, my dear, are a grockle and might drag him to live elsewhere. Away from her orbit. And, I suppose she assumes, wrongly, her influence.’ She snorted. ‘Dario has never been influenced by anyone or anything if it didn’t suit him.’

‘I hardly know the bloke, except as your ex, via you. One silent walk to the pub and back doesn’t count. And she’s married.’

‘Yeah and have you met the poor sap? Oh, that was a reaction to me and Dario getting hitched. Anything we did she could do better etcetera. Anyway, I thought I’d pop down to see how you survived. Dario mentioned you had a run in with the witches...’

‘Oh yes. Tell me, is it any newcomer, or just me who gets the evils?’

‘Well,’ Maddie tilted her head to one side, as Bryony cashed up and locked the money in the safe. ‘Everyone, but you’re bearing the brunt of it.

‘Why?’

‘You bought Cliff Cottage.’

A week later, Bryony was happy with the house and her new, unwanted but mostly enjoyable, employment. Life was good, and very little ruffled the serenity. She still had no idea what was so special about Cliff cottage to warrant such antagonism. When she asked Maddie, Maddie had firmed her lips and said it wasn’t up to her to say, but it would blow over. She didn’t say in which decade. There had been one more near miss between Milly-the-car and that bloody green van, but Bryony averted a collision by turning into a farm gate and flipping the bird. Really the driver, whoever he or she was, needed his or her ears boxing. Or something. And she’d enjoy being the one to do it. Juvenile, but oh how satisfying.

So, it was somewhat of a surprise when Dario turned up on her doorstep on her next day off, the day she’d earmarked for a walk and a chance to discover the area around where she lived. Dressed in a washed out green shirt and a pair of shorts, along with trainers even more battered than hers, and a baseball cap—green and no logo—covering his dark hair, to her annoyance he looked sexy. Damn him. I do not want to like him over much, I even less want to fancy him.

‘Grief, you’re like a jack in the box, always popping up unexpectedly. What now?’ she said, exasperated. ‘No, I won’t sell. Go away.’

He didn’t budge. Short of running around him, or going indoors and then out of a window she was stuck.

‘Please move, you’re blocking my sunlight.’ To say nothing of her way.

‘Where are you going?’ he asked, in what she guessed passed as a pleasant tone for him. He twirled his sunglasses between his fingers and then put them on, shading his eyes and blocking his expression.

‘Out.’ She saw no reason not to emulate him. ‘Why are you here?’

‘To say sorry again.’

‘For which time?’ She didn’t intend to let him off easily.

He dipped his head in acknowledgement of her justified question. ‘Every time. My arsiness was uppermost.’

Bryony was in no mood to pander to him. ‘Accepted. Now, please get out of my way.’

‘Can I come?’ He pushed the glasses down his nose and looked over the rim at her. ‘Go on, say yes, you know you want to.’

Bryony crossed her arms and for once ignored Mop’s excited jump up at Dario. The dog knew fine well it wasn’t allowed. But at that moment in time she couldn’t have cared if he knocked Dario-the-irritant down. ‘You know more than I do then.’

‘Well, can I?’

‘Why?’ she asked, baldly. He’d not been at all pleasant when he escorted her to the pub, ignored her most of the night except when Maddie had in effect lumped them together, grumpily walked her down the lane, been a right miserable and antagonistic sod the next few times they’d met, and now this? Damn the man, why couldn’t he be consistent?

‘I want to.’

‘That stupid ‘hang dog, woe is me, no one wants me’ look does nothing for me. It doesn’t even work with Mop, and he actually is a dog. Why on earth do you want to come where I’m going, when you don’t even know where I’m going.’

‘I want to get to know you better?’ He offered, with an upward inflexion.

‘Rubbish.’ Though she had to give him an A for effort, if not a D for originality.

‘You intrigue me?’ He tilted his head to one side, let his glasses dangle from the very end of his nose and opened his eyes wide. It should have looked stupid, but to her annoyance it didn’t.

Bryony resisted the urge to push his sun glasses up his nose—hard. Definitely a D. ‘Crap. You need to try harder.’ But he intrigued her.

‘I’m bored?’

‘That’s more like it. Why aren’t you at work?’ Hell, what if he hasn’t got a job, that’s cruel. She still didn’t know what he really did for a living, apart from helping out at the estate agents.

‘Why aren’t you?’

‘I’m moving in.’

‘You’ve been moving in for ages. I’ve got a day off. Go on, let me come, pretty please with sprinkles. I’ll buy you an ice cream. I know the tracks.’

‘Gin and tonic, a double, as well as a triple scoop ice cream. If I agree. What makes you think I’m going walking anyway?’ Sheesh, can he read minds?

‘Elementary, dear Whoosit. Rucksack, dog, trainers, map in back pocket.’

She’d forgotten that.

‘Plus,’ he went on. ‘Covered in sunscreen. I doubt you need all that to tidy the garage or whatever.’

‘Busted. Mop, get down.’ The dog gave a doggy grin and sat, before he put his paw up and whined. ‘Oh okay, but I warn you, one moan and you go.’

‘Who, Mop?’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘And you behave or else.’

‘Yes, Miss. Blimey, are you always so bossy?’

‘You better believe it. Right, Mr I know the tracks. I want to go through the gate to see what’s there before I pick up the cliff path and make my way back via Great Brindish.’

‘That’s a good ten miles.’

‘State the obvious why don’t you?’

He laughed.

‘So?’ She asked, impatiently. ‘If it’s too much for your aged leggies, don’t come.’

‘Cheeky kid. I’m not much over forty.’

‘Hmm…’ So now I know, God he’s fit for his age. Woman; get your mind out of the gutter, or trousers. Hell, I hope my face isn’t red. ‘So, what’s the problem?’

‘Other than you’re about as welcoming to me as anyone would be to a wasp at a picnic. What about Mop?’

‘What about him?’

Mop heard his name, turned in a circle leapt to one side and sat down.

‘Is it not too much for him?’

Mop stretched out and put his head on his paws.

Bryony laughed. ‘Contrary to the tired pooch attitude, he’ll walk you into the ground.’

‘No thanks, I’ll just walk with him over the ground. And we can all bond.’

Somehow Bryony wasn’t sure about that last statement. Why was he Mr Nice all of a sudden?

She smelled a rat.

‘So, what made you chose Devon?’ Dario asked, as they made their way towards a low, whitewashed farmhouse just visible over the crest of a hill. It looked deserted except for a dishtowel, or something similar, that flapped desultorily on a clothes line strung between two trees. ‘Why here, not Dorset or Cornwall, or even Scotland?’

Bryony shrugged. ‘I like here. I hate midges.’

‘But why that house?’

Sheesh, he was persistent. Now she knew how an interrogated prisoner felt. ‘It was on the estate agents web site, looked good, I came to see it, fell in love and put in an offer there and then. It was accepted and here I am. What’s wrong with that?’

‘I just don’t know how you could have. It wasn’t supposed to be listed.’

‘How do… ah, you’re the estate agent.’ Some things fell into place. If he was supposed to be in charge someone must have cocked up. ‘So, what went wrong?’

He scowled and flicked the top of a tall stem of grass. ‘Goodness knows. But I was just the stand in. Then I couldn’t do it for a while due to an operation for a broken arm. I was kept in hospital a few extra days.’ He didn’t fill in on the hows and whys like Maddie had. ‘When I got out old Alf didn’t mention what he’d done. No wonder he demanded to bring his retirement forward by a few months. He knew damned well there were plans for it all. The first I knew was when I was told that as I didn’t want it it’d been sold. Bastard owner. I’d had my offer accepted before it ever came into the business. The old owner was a mate of a mate and had offered it to me. I accepted. Goodness knows what went wrong, apart from bloody Alf—unless you paid over the odds. Rod isn’t telling, he just did his ‘but you didn’t confirm rubbish’. Actually, let’s get it straight. I did, Alf forgot to send it on.’

‘There you are then. Shit happens.’

He ignored that. ‘So, if you want to sell at what you paid for it?’

‘I don’t, and nor am I telling you what I did pay.’ Blooming infuriating man.

‘I can look it up.’

‘Yeah. Go ahead, I’m sorry and all that, but none of this is my fault. What’s so important about it anyway?’

He shrugged. ‘It would just suit me.’

And the rest. What wasn’t he saying?

‘It suits me as well. Tough bananas, you’re stuck with me. It’s mine now, so pull up your big boy boxers and get over it.’

‘Hmm. I’ll try not to hold a grudge.’

Honestly, men . ‘Don’t bust a gut while you do. It’s okay, I don’t do wild parties.’ A thought struck her. ‘Where do you live then?’

He waved in no particular direction. ‘Over there a-ways. Where did you come from?’

Which told her absolutely nothing. Well if he could keep secrets so could she. ‘Up north a-ways.’

He grunted and then in a lightening change of mood, grinned. ‘And now we need to go that a-ways.’ He pointed towards the sea and away from the buildings. ‘Up, over and across a-ways.’

So, he did have a sense of humour then… albeit one buried deep inside his grumpiness.

‘Why?’ What imp of perverseness made her argue? ‘I wanted to see the other way. It’s not a private road is it?’ She omitted to say she’d already been part way down the track a few days before. Was she being contrary on purpose? On reflection, Bryony decided she was. If only to shake Dario the unshakeable. He might be mumpy, but nothing seemed to faze him. Apart from her buying her house maybe. ‘Surely that’s where the track goes?’ And if it did she might catch a glimpse of the green van and discover a bit more about it, and from that, Dario the mysterious.

‘It might not be a private road but it’s intruding on the occupier’s privacy.’

‘Would they mind? Oh, forget I said that. I wasn’t intending to look through the windows. I checked the map and the track goes past the house and eventually onto a road. So, we can use it.’

‘That’s too far, if you did that you’d find the bridleway you wanted to use is blocked by fallen trees. The council have to clear them. This is better.’

Was his answer too glib? Probably but other than stalk off, and no doubt he would follow and manhandle her in the direction he wanted, was it really worth the effort? She’d just do it another day. Plus, she wanted to know more about Mandi with an ‘i’, the elusive erotic thriller writer who was an open secret to some it seemed. The scene in the meeting replayed through her mind. Why would Mrs Cherry know? ‘Is Mandi Rook the pen name of Mrs Cherry?’

‘Whaaat?’ Dario stopped walking, put his hands on his hips and roared with laughter. ‘Why on earth do you think that?’ he asked, once he stopped spluttering. ‘Good grief, I don’t think so. Can you see her typing out erotic thrillers at the dead of night, or behind the stack of loo rolls?’

That picture made Bryony giggle. ‘Not really, but she seems to know who Mandi with an ‘i’ is and Maddie did say she was local.’

‘Did she now?’

That seemed to tickle him, much to Bryony’s disgust. ‘What’s so funny about that?’

‘I really couldn’t say.’

‘What’s funny or who she is?’

‘Both.’

Why such a secret…or not? Was it because she was a grockle and not yet accepted? But she wasn’t the only one not in the know, was she? Lots of semi new comers? Didn’t they say you could live somewhere for fifty years and still be that new woman up the cliff? Ah, well. Bryony shrugged. She’d worry about that later. She nodded towards the house—now further away than a few minutes earlier. ‘Who lives there then?’

‘Oh, look.’ He pointed to the cliff. ‘A buzzard.’

‘I can’t see anything.’ She bet he couldn’t either. The sky was empty of anything other than a very distant vapour trail.

‘You must have missed it.’

‘Why not just say it’s none of my business.’

‘It’s none of your business.’

That told her. She’d interrogate Maddie or look at the parish phone book or something. ‘Suit yourself.’

He chuckled, and a hint of an elusive, normal, pleasant guy appeared for a second. ‘I usually do. Both my sister and my ex will tell you it is one of my less pleasant traits. What’s the dog after?’

Bryony tugged on Mop’s lead as he did his best to head towards something noxious.

‘That dog sure likes nasties.’

‘He likes you.’ Make what you want of that.

Dario looked at her suspiciously, then roared with laughter. ‘That, my dear, is the best put down I have ever received, shall we call a truce?’

‘Only if you promise not to keep pressing me to sell. I won’t, and you’re annoying me.’

‘As long as if you ever do decide to, you tell me first.’

‘Fair enough, if you’re about. What made you become an estate agent?’

‘Eh?’

Did he look shamefaced or was her imagination working overtime? Bryony couldn’t make her mind up.

‘Estate agent?’ she prompted.

‘Oh, no, I’m not really. That was years ago, and it was just a job to tide me over. This time I just helped out.’

‘So, what are you?’

‘A man, what about you?’

Secrets again.

‘A woman. What a great view.’ If he could be arsy so could she.

‘Fair enough. Can I hold the dog’s lead?’ He held out his hand and did his best—she assumed—to look pitiful and needy. ‘I miss Merlin, and Sookie, Mad’s Great Dane is a one person hound. Won’t even go out with Dex.’

‘Where is he?’ She’d forgotten his dog. ‘Merlin, I mean, not Dex.’ How awful of her.

‘Back with his owner. He belongs to my sister really, but I was dog sitting for a few days. Any obedience I get into his thick head will now have gone like a puff of wind. Lottie isn’t exactly very forceful.’

Except with you. She couldn’t imagine Lottie putting up with dog hairs and food bowls. Bryony passed over Mop’s leash. ‘Have a shot. He’s going to be delirious with excitement, new scents, new walks and you. Doggy paradise.’

‘Not human paradise as well?’ He rolled his eyes and patted his heart. ‘Damn, I’m gutted.’

‘Ah well, build a bridge and get over it. Has to be earned.’

‘True enough.’ He took hold of her hand, and gave her a taunting look, as if to say, well; dare you? She dared…but was it worth it?

His skin was warm, slightly calloused and comfortable. Bryony curled her fingers around his and let him swing their arms gently, as he began to properly point out sights of interest. His voice was husky, not rasping, but with a hint of something she’d have said was sex on legs. Except, if you judged him by his demeanour he had no idea. It was hard to believe, but Bryony had to accept it was thus. Somehow it made her feel a bit of a ninny.

‘Why were you so arsy?’ she asked. ‘I mean you’ve blown hot and cold ever since we met, and we hadn’t exchanged two words to each other. Okay, I know I bought the house you wanted, but it wasn’t an evil act directed at you.’

‘I know. I’ve had a lot on my mind. Things to decide and not many of them straightforward. Losing the house was the last straw and all decency flew out of the window when I saw you. Ced—shot for Cedric—Combe had intimated it was yet another London takeover where the place would be empty for most of the year. When so many locals can’t afford to buy anywhere, and this was my future home I thought, well I’m sorry, but you bore the brunt of that and everything else. I’m trying to be grown up enough to own up and apologise, but I’m human and it’s not as easy as it seems.’

What else I wonder? ‘I get that. So, for the record, I never intended this to be my three times a year weekend house, it was always going to be home. I’m sorry you were gazumped but I didn’t know I was doing it. And I’m glad I’m here.’

Dario squeezed her hand. ‘So am I.’