Chapter Thirteen
S tanding by the front door to the cottage, Lynsey looked around the small garden. The sun was setting but she could make out the lavender growing amongst the weeds, spreading itself out from the flowerbeds and growing between the cracks of the slabbed path. It had probably once been quite beautiful. The lavender had certainly been lovingly planted, anyway.
She checked her watch. The estate agent inside was taking his time. She’d been standing out here waiting for the past twenty minutes. She’d assumed he’d only be five minutes or so, but it seemed he had either fallen through the ceiling or else he was being very thorough. Any other time then she’d appreciate the fact someone was being so thorough, but with the cottage in such a state, she was pretty sure it wasn’t a good sign.
Shielding her eye with her hand, she glanced down the narrow lane and sighed. It would have been so perfect living and even though she’d resigned herself to the fact she had no choice but to sell, she really couldn’t face stepping inside. She didn’t want to be reminded of what a failure she’d been in buying it, in taking this stupid leap of faith, in not listening to other people’s advice.
‘Miss Lucas.’
Turning, Lynsey focused her attention on the estate agent who stepped outside to join her. ‘How did it go?’
‘I’ve had a thorough look around the property and, as you may be aware, in this market, a property of this size and in this location is extremely sought after.’ He straightened his tie. ‘In fact, we have a number of people interested in buying in this very location on our books at any one time.’
‘Right. That’s great news.’ Lynsey forced a grin. She’d been one of those people eager to move to the area. ‘You don’t think it will take long to sell then?’
Clearing his throat, the estate agent tapped his pen against his notebook. ‘I should state that although we have a lot of people interested in buying into this area, we don’t have many interested in purchasing a renovation project.’
‘But you have some?’
‘Your cottage will probably get the attention of an investor, yes.’
‘Okay.’ Lynsey nodded. An investor would be good. It would mean that they wouldn’t be part of a chain. It would be a quick sale at least, and she could put the whole thing behind her. Call it a blip or something.
‘For the right price, I might add.’
‘And what would that price be?’ She might even make money on it.
‘Not as much as you told me you paid for it at auction, I’m afraid. In fact, I’d recommend putting it on the market for ten thousand lower than you paid and accepting an offer of knocking another seven to ten off the asking price.’ He glanced back at the cottage before meeting her gaze. ‘I think that would be a fair price considering the amount of work needing doing.’
‘I’d lose twenty thousand pounds?’ Not to mention the fees she’d already paid to the auction house and the fees she’d then have to pay to the estate agent when it did sell. What was she supposed to do? She couldn’t lose twenty grand. There would be absolutely no chance of her buying somewhere to live after that.Anywhere.
‘Here’s my card. I look forward to hearing from you.’ The estate agent passed her his business card.
Nodding, Lynsey watched as he walked down the path and closed the wrought-iron gate quietly behind him. This was it. She had officially messed up and messed up far more than she’d first thought too. Turning, she headed into the cottage, her earlier determination of keeping out having disappeared, along with her dreams of owning her own home. Throwing the card the estate agent had given her onto the dusty windowsill, she kicked at a patch of plaster which remained clinging stubbornly to the wall by the fireplace.
Taking a deep breath, she let out a scream as she kicked at it again and again. It wasn’t going to make any difference to the saleability or lack of saleability of the cottage if she succeeded and knocked this particular patch off. A hollow laugh escaped her throat. It might even add value, it would be less to remove.
She continued kicking at it, pieces flaking off and falling on top of the old plaster on the floor. She continued, again and again, until a noise from behind her startled her and she stopped before turning around.
Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes. It was Zac, standing with his arms crossed in the doorway, an amused look on his face. Of course it was Zac. Who else would it be? Who else had perfected the art of sneaking up on her? Running her hand through her hair, she pulled her fingers through the knots which had formed throughout the day and glared at him. ‘Go on, laugh. You know that’s what you want to do.’
Holding his arms wide, he shrugged. ‘Hey, I’ve not said anything.’
‘No, but the look on your face says it all. So, go on, gloat. I don’t care anymore. It’s not like I’ll be hanging around in the bay for much longer anyway, so say what you want. I can take it.’ She wasn’t a hundred percent sure she could, not right there in the moment, but she was on the verge of tears and barely keeping it together as it was, maybe she should be lying in a heap and crying anyway, so if his words made her do that then perhaps he was doing her a favour.
Uncrossing his arms, he frowned. ‘You’re not staying in the bay? But you’ve just bought this cottage?’
‘Yes, I have. But as you well know, I’ve royally messed up and hadn’t even seen the place, not even the outside, before putting in a bid.’ She bit down on her bottom lip.
‘And?’
‘And I wasn’t expecting this.’ She waved her arms around, encompassing the room, the cottage, the entire place. ‘I don’t have a quarter of what you quoted me for the work and as it turns out I won’t even get close to what I paid for it when I sell so, yeah, my life is a mess which isn’t surprising considering how the past year has gone.’
‘You’ve not had a good time?’ Zac asked quietly. ‘Sorry to hear that.’
‘Of course you are.’ The sarcasm dripped from her words, but she didn’t care, Zac hadn’t exactly been particularly kind to her either. Still, she regretted her response as soon as she’d said it. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. It’s nothing to do with you.’
Holding his hand, palm forward up, Zac shook his head. ‘Please don’t apologise. I’ve not been exactly professional since I’ve met you either, have I?’
She shook her head. ‘No, you’ve actually been quite rude.’
‘I have.’ He nodded before dragging his hand across his face. ‘Rubbish year here too.’
‘Sorry.’ She spoke quietly, suddenly unsure of how they’d got onto the topic of how rubbish their lives were. ‘What can I do for you, anyway?’
‘I was in the area and popped by to see if you’d made a decision about the quote I gave you yesterday, but I see now that you have.’
‘Yep.’ She nodded. ‘Sorry, I don’t have a choice.’
‘Sure, you do. It’s not for the fainthearted though, that’s for sure. Most people only take on a commitment like this...’ He waved his hand around, encompassing the cottage. ‘If they’re seasoned property developers or have a lifelong dream to renovate a place. Not...’ His voice trailed off.
She glared at him, clenching her fists by her sides. ‘Not what? Not stupid enough to bid and buy a property they’d never stepped foot inside?’
Zac had the good grace to look sheepish and focused on a spot on the plaster ridden floor. ‘Well, yes.’
‘Uh-huh.’ She nodded slowly as she picked up the estate agent’s card from the windowsill. ‘Well, not everyone is as knowledgeable as you.’
‘That’s not...’
‘What you were about to say? That’s not what you meant?’ She spoke over him, any manners she had long gone in the heat of the moment. Besides, she only needed to show him the level of respect he had shown her and that had been rock bottom. ‘Of course it wasn’t? Well, I’m sorry master builder extraordinaire Zac Hunter, I won’t be needing your services after all. Thanks for the quote and all, but I’m sorry to say it was a complete waste of both our times and patience.’
‘You really are selling then?’ Stepping further inside, Zac walked slowly around the perimeter of the living room before pausing at the fireplace. ‘That’s a shame as it’ll likely get sold to a property developer whose only interest is to earn money on it rather than take any care or time in to bringing it back to life in a way that honours the history of the cottage.’
Lynsey tilted her head and watched as he pulled the sleeve of his flannel shirt over his hand and wiped plaster dust from a section of the dark-stained oak mantelpiece. She’d assumed he was all about the money, do a quick job and move onto the next. That’s the impression she’d got when he first refused to offer her a quote. Maybe she’d read him wrong. Maybe there was more to this arrogant builder than she’d first assumed. She cleared her throat. ‘What happens, happens, I’m afraid.’
He nodded slowly and looked across at her, seemingly tearing himself away from whatever was playing on his mind. ‘That is a shame.’
Shifting on her feet, she pointed to the door. ‘Right, well, now you’ve made me feel guilty for having to put the cottage back on the market. Did you want to leave so I can get on? Please.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Picking his way across the floor, he held his hand up as he walked out of the door. ‘See you around.’
Making her way towards the front door, she closed it quickly behind him. She just needed a bit of time, a bit of space. A chance to say goodbye to her dreams and the new life this cottage was supposed to bring her.