Chapter 2
S he woke with a start. Where was she? Fumbling frantically, she located her glasses next to her on the pillow, where they’d stayed when she’d dropped into a sleeping pill induced coma the night before. Everything moved into focus. Gradually, her heart rate slowed, and her breathing returned to normal as she took in her new bedroom, small but cosy. She was here, of course. In her new home.
It wasn’t the deafening sound of her cries in her dream that had awoken her though. It was a banging on the door. Panicking, Millie flung the covers back and peeked out the window, which looked directly down to the front door. A man was standing there. A rather handsome man, she couldn’t help but think. He was tall with dark hair and reasonably large shoulders. She couldn’t see much else from up here. Who on Earth was this man and what was he doing at her door?
He knocked loudly again, and she saw him glance at his watch. Oh God. She flapped around, yanking her dressing gown on and very quickly scanning her face in the mirror. Why did she care? She wasn’t trying to impress anyone. Just as well, really. Unless the visitor had a penchant for puffy eyes, chapped lips and messy hair, she was going nowhere fast. The door rapped again, two quick ones this time, as though he were growing more impatient. She dashed down the stairs, every creak showing the cottage’s age. By the time she’d scrabbled with the lock and got the door open, there was no-one there. She leant her head out the door and saw the back of the man, striding away.
“Excuse me!” she shouted, causing an old lady walking past with her dog to jump. Millie smiled apologetically, her cheeks reddening at the woman’s scowl. The mystery man turned around and studied her, an eyebrow raised. “Sorry I…I was in bed.” The eyebrow moved up a little further. Was that thing on a string?
“At half ten?” he countered, walking back towards her. She blushed further. She hadn’t realised it was so late. To be honest, she hadn’t got into a routine here yet. She was just grateful to have slept at all. She studied his face, not liking his judgemental stare. Who was this man?
“Um, what did you want?” she asked as kindly as she could, wrapping her dressing gown further around her, aware her pyjama top was a little revealing for a first-time meeting someone.
“I’m Alan’s son, Alfie? Dad asked me to drop round and check how you are. But if it’s too early for you, I can always pop back later…?” She didn’t like his tone. Who was he to judge her and her time of rising? He didn’t know her story?! Besides, it was half ten on a Tuesday. If he was so important, why was he able to wander freely round the village, knocking on strange women’s doors instead of being in some important job?
“Oh. Well, yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, unsure what to say. She was still acutely aware of being stood in the street in her unicorn pyjamas and fluffy dressing gown. She noticed the elderly man across the road watering his plant in the bedroom window, staring down at her. She nodded her head awkwardly in acknowledgement. Alfie glanced upwards and then stared back at her closer and she could feel her face flushing again. Despite the sheer awkwardness of this three-way exchange, she noticed herself eyeing him up now she could see him better from down here. He was tall and his dark hair extended to the stubble on his chin and jawline. He had dark eyes, and his skin was much more tanned than hers, she guessed as a result from the Cornish summer just gone by.
He continued to stare at her, giving nothing away. “Great. Then I guess I needn’t have bothered coming round,” he said shortly. “If you need anything, here’s my number.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small card, which he held out between them. Taking it, she saw from a quick glimpse “ Alfie Drew. Artist. Ring for commissions .” And then a phone number.
“But it seems like you have it all sussed,” he finished. And with a cursory glance up and down, he turned and walked away! Millie stood in shock. How could a man be so rude? Particularly being Alan’s son; her lovely, laid back, down to Earth boss who would do anything for anyone? It wasn’t possible. Clearly, Alan’s gentle nature hadn’t rubbed off on his son.
Closing the door gently, she leant against it and exhaled. One thing was for sure: she wouldn’t be ringing Alfie Drew for anything, even if he was the last rude, arrogant, exceptionally good-looking man on earth.
Alfie heard the cottage door click shut as he strode off down the lane. Yet another person from the city with too much money taking up space in his Mum’s cottage. He was fed up with being his dad’s runaround, constantly coming up to “help” when most of the time the issues were so minor they were laughable.
He thought back to the young couple who had stayed a few months ago, who had contacted his dad in a panic when they “couldn’t locate the air con switch.” It had been a spell of unseasonably hot weather in April, yet when Alfie had been sent up and told them that Cornish air conditioning was opening a window, they had looked at him with a most bemused expression.
Then there was the elderly couple last year – they’d complained in their review that there were too many “mod cons” in the cottage, referring specifically to the kettle, stating it wasn’t authentic enough. The urge for Alfie to go round, unplug their kettle and chuck it out the back door had been tremendous. It seemed all people wanted to do was complain about the cottage, either about things it did or didn’t have and it infuriated him. That cottage was his Mum’s. It belonged to her. He could still picture her in there, with him and to have people in the space at all, let alone complaining about it and not appreciating it for the amazing space it was, was very difficult for him.
His phone buzzed twice in quick succession in his pocket. He cursed, yanking it out and checking the screen. One message from dad – thanks for popping round, appreciate it . He considered not replying but knew it would be easier to just type out a brief no probs and be done with it. Another message appeared from Dana: I’ve just arrived and you’re not in – where are you!? He sighed in frustration, shoving the phone back in his pocket. He really didn’t need this stress right now. Why was it he could never do the right thing? It wasn’t like he had four commissions to complete before the end of the month, aside from having to babysit some random woman who clearly had no desire to even get out of bed and do something with her day. And then to have Dana on his case as well – it was too much.
Alfie couldn’t keep up with Dana and her temperamental attitude towards their relationship. She had started as a mutually casual “situationship” after meeting on a night out (not his usual style at all, but a lot of Guiness had been consumed.) He hadn’t been looking for a relationship; he never was. He couldn’t deny that she was completely gorgeous. In a nutshell she was petite, drove a zippy Mini Cooper, had long blonde hair and worked as a representative for an affluent PR firm up in Manchester. Her wealthy parents lived just outside of Truro, the nearest city to Sandyhaven, which is where they’d met. She visited her parents a couple of times a month and would always come to see him too. She’d insisted she was serious about him and constantly nagged him to move to Manchester with her, but his instinct told him he was just a convenient relationship and several times he’d suspected she was seeing other people up in Manchester.
He genuinely liked her when they were alone together – she could be much more down-to-earth and low maintenance this way and whilst they didn’t share all the same interests, they could make each other laugh. She just seemed like a completely different person when she was out in public, and he found it hard to manage. And in comparison, her personality online was like that of a stranger. To look at her social media, it was as though she were a single woman. It was all very confusing.
Plus, Alfie was incredibly busy now that his business had grown and, to be honest, he liked time and space to himself. He found the times she was away were the most peaceful. Alfie going to check on this new woman in the village and leaving Dana alone at his front door had not gone down well, as her text message had clearly implied.
With a yawn and a vicious ruffle of his hair, Alfie picked up the pace to get back quickly. He wanted to avoid an argument today if possible; Dana’s arguments were usually long-winded, and he had the finishing touches to add to one piece of work, as well as completing the underpainting of another large canvas. Yes, this Millie woman had really messed up his morning.