Chapter 9
Aria had a dilemma. Before leaving town yesterday, she had received the details for the house she was to show and immediately realised it was the grotesque structure next door.
She’d hastily reached for her phone to cancel the job as she couldn’t possibly sell a house her father had fought tooth and nail against. But Dad had left her in this mess, the agent was her only warm lead on work, and the tinned food in the cupboards wouldn’t last more than a week or two.
After tossing and turning all night, she decided her belly trumped her principles.
So, here she was, at ten to nine in the morning, showing a house she had no enthusiasm for.
After plugging several numbers into the security panel of her neighbour’s front door, Aria rubbed her eyes.
Tiger had whined on and off for hours and then peed on her floor in a dirty protest at being banned from the sofa bed.
He must have hopped up again at some point, as she awoke squished into a corner while he was contentedly star-fishing across the sheets.
She wondered if it was warm enough to put his bed on the balcony and lock him out.
But then, the resultant howling would be a surefire way to draw unwanted attention to them.
Although she was getting used to the quirks of the hut, she was still worried someone would catch her breaking the rules about occupancy.
Tapping more firmly at the panel, she reminded herself to get hold of the deeds to the cabin from Dad’s solicitor so she could confirm just how large that small print might be.
Maybe she could find a loophole. In the meantime, she needed to stay in the moment long enough to access this property.
Consulting her notes, she added a hashtag to the end of a long list of numbers and was relieved when she was granted access.
Calling out a hello in case anyone was present, she gingerly entered, with Tiger trotting behind her.
Checking her notes to confirm the name of the viewer she was due to meet, she thanked the stars she’d come early to assess the house before ‘Stephen’ arrived.
She tied Tiger securely to a coat hook on the back of the front door – she hadn’t planned to bring him with her, but he’d created such a fuss that she’d hurriedly grabbed his lead.
Right, she put on her game face, taking a look around the huge open-plan living space, currently shuttered and dark.
‘Well, this shouldn’t be hard to sell. And that’s before they see the view.
Let’s get this place opened up!’ It didn’t take long for her to locate a small panel on the wall, while Tiger snuffled around for the scent of mice.
She discovered a series of buttons on one side, with a selection of dials on the other.
‘Bingo!’ Now all she had to do was work out which switch controlled which utility.
She dived in, turning the first dial tentatively, then more firmly.
Nothing happened. Or did it? In the distance, she heard a clank and whirr.
She followed the noise outside the house, and to her dismay saw the adjacent garage door lifting and shutting with a clatter.
Spinning round, she realised the front door had closed itself in the same wilful manner.
What was this sorcery? Her phone, her dog, and the complex code were all on the other side.
Trying to remember the digits, while quelling rising panic, she was splashed by a sprinkler that had gone rogue on the grass.
As the garage door clanged against the concrete and started to reopen, she looked inside and saw a door leading back to the house.
Sensing an opportunity to get things back on track before Stephen appeared, she channelled Indiana Jones and made a sprint for it.
But the door was moving fast and caught on her cardigan on its way back up.
Good God, was she about to be catapulted over the garage roof?
When she heard her sweater rip, she gave a silent thanks it was a cheap buy, before ducking under the door.
The connecting door into the house was thankfully unlocked and she re-entered to see a robot vacuum cleaner moving across the floor.
Skipping over it, she ran at the panel, hitting random buttons to stop the commotion.
And hurrah, the wooden shutters opened.
And then closed.
And opened.
And closed.
It was like they were trying to form an orchestra with the garage door.
Flicking randomly at knobs, she unintentionally turned on the TV and the surround-sound system started blaring.
Moments later, the coffee machine sprang to life and the oven came on, its timer flashing.
Was that the sound of a shower coming from down the hall?
It sounded like the ocean! As the vacuum made a kamikaze raid on her calves, she cried out in pain.
Then, mercifully, the noise cut out and the shutters lowered.
As her eyes adjusted, she could feel tears welling.
If a buyer showed up now she would be mightily screwed.
Taking deep breaths, she focused on the box on the wall.
Trying the dials one by one, she managed to turn on mood lighting above the kitchen island.
Not very useful, but a start at cooperation?
The garage door began its routine again, but she could live with that.
Meanwhile Tiger whimpered at the front door, terrified of the robot vacuum that had stopped in front of him.
‘Poor thing, is it spooking you?’ Or maybe she was?
Looking down at her ripped cardigan, she decided ‘professional’ was the last word someone meeting her would pluck out of the air.
She tried to fix her hair in a mirror on the wall, reaching into her pocket for a lip balm and finding a dog treat.
She unhooked Tiger, fed him the biscuit and let him wander into the room where he cocked a leg beside the L-shaped sofa.
‘No, no, NO! What are you doing?’ she gasped, as a dark patch appeared on the white rug.
‘OK, I have seen enough.’
Aria almost jumped out of her skin at the appearance of a tall man.
She was embarrassed about her clammy skin when they shook hands at his instigation, realising they’d met before.
Today, he was dressed immaculately, in a light-blue shirt, black jeans and trainers.
She pulled herself together and plastered a smile across her face.
‘Welcome to Inglemere’s beautiful lake, Stephen.
Or do you prefer Steve?’ He momentarily looked puzzled before muttering either would be fine.
She cheered up as she assessed his haircut, clothes and neutral accent.
She’d met him coming north on the M6 and from what she’d seen of Southerners, they were so hungry for a lake or stream in their back yard, they’d drink it neat with ice.
‘It’s a pleasure to see you again, and I’m happy you managed to clean up since our service station encounter. ’
‘I have to say I’m less than impressed so far,’ he said, pinning her with a stern gaze.
‘Yes, that is fair,’ she quickly replied. ‘Before we start, please accept my apologies for the banging and clanking of the garage door. It seems to have a mind of its own. And I’m afraid I had to bring my dog with me as we moved house a couple of days ago and he’s rather unsettled.’
‘So, you thought it could trash this place instead of yours?’
The man’s eyes continued to bore into her, making her feel uncomfortable. She lost her train of thought for a moment, perturbed by his hostile tone. Who would treat an estate agent with such venom? She was clearly having an off day, right? This man might be good looking, but he was a piece of work.