Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
‘Isee your man has been dropping by the local newspaper office. I think he’s been speaking to a lot of the townsfolk, too.’
I narrowed my eyes at Katie as she approached me, all windswept cheeks and teasing smile, just after I’d returned from my early-morning visit to the harbour. ‘He’s not mine,’ I replied curtly.
She fiddled with the dusty-pink scarf knotted around her neck and gave me a curious glance. ‘I love your brother to the moon and back, but I have to say I’d find it very difficult to say no if Mason Cooper wanted to interrogate me.’
I ushered Katie into the warmth of the annexe. ‘Yes, well, as long as he doesn’t do a carve-up job on the Scarlet Highwayman. We’ve had too many journalists trying to do that over the years as it is.’
Her brown curls fizzed around her face. ‘He’s not a journalist, Poppy.’
‘No, I know that. But he still wants to achieve the same sort of thing, doesn’t he?’
‘Which is?’
‘Find out something explosive or controversial.’ I folded my arms. ‘I bumped into him this morning down by the harbour. I think he thinks I’m some doe-eyed idiot, crushing on the Scarlet Highwayman.’
Katie shifted in her tall brown boots. ‘I think he just wants to get at the truth.’
‘Hmm.’
She gave a small smile. ‘That’s what you’re worried about, isn’t it?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘That someone like Mason Cooper will uncover something about the Scarlet Highwayman that you don’t like; that it will shatter your perception of him.’
I wanted to deny it, but Katie raised her eyebrows and I clamped my mouth shut. I lifted a hand and tapped each finger. ‘That man has been blamed for everything, from burning down that orphanage to murder. I’m surprised some around here haven’t made him responsible for the cost-of-living crisis.’
She smiled but said nothing.
‘What is it?’ I pushed her. ‘I know you want to say something.’
Katie flicked me a look. ‘I know Nick was a tosser, but not every guy out there is like him.’
Heat shot up my neck. ‘I’ve already been bitten by a Great White and I’ve got no intention of dangling my leg in front of another one, thank you very much.’
She pressed her lips together. ‘So that’s it, is it? Just because Nick was a bastard, you’ve decided you’re going to live like a recluse for the rest of your life?’
I felt suddenly defensive. ‘I never said that.’
Katie’s dark eyes sparkled. ‘Well, it sure as hell sounds that way from where I’m standing.’
I shrugged off my rucksack and dumped it by my feet on the annexe sitting room carpet. I was eager to talk about something else. Anything would be preferable to Mason. ‘We’d better get on,’ I insisted. ‘These cottages won’t launch themselves.’
It was a day of making numerous phone calls to furniture suppliers, as well as composing copious notes about ideas for publicising the cottages, updating the website, launching X, Instagram and Facebook pages and getting the local paper, the Port Starr Press, on board to hold some sort of launch competition.
They were more than happy to oblige, especially as the editor was a long-time friend of my dad.
I also placed a job advert in the Press, for another cleaner to replace Katie.
The cottages were coming on at a rapid pace, thanks to Joe and his team, who were painstakingly working their way through each one, flicking their paintbrushes loaded with stardust.
Once Joe’s van had vanished for the day and Katie had gone home, I shuffled back to the annexe, bone weary but satisfied, and concocted a quick salad with baked potato, tuna and mayonnaise.
I just wanted to crash on the sofa with a glass of white wine and some mindless TV drama, but instead, I disappeared into my ‘art studio’ (the utility cupboard), where I summoned up as much energy as I could to make more progress with my sketches.
From over in the corner, my watercolour portrait of the Scarlet Highwayman smiled mysteriously at me from one of my three easels.
What if I was romanticising this infamous character from our local history after all? crawled a random thought. Maybe he was a ruthless sod who terrorised people and not the misunderstood man I thought him to be?
Maybe Katie was right, I thought with a sudden rush. Perhaps I was channelling a crush on the Scarlet Highwayman to stop me from suffering yet more disappointment with modern men. Deep down, I knew this was highly likely, but I refused to acknowledge it.
I took a step back to assess my work. My gold bangle rattled on my wrist.
Another thought stole over me as I continued to examine my brushstrokes on the canvas. There was something about the intensity in his eyes and the way his inky lashes thrust forwards… For a moment, it reminded me of someone else…
Mason.
Wrapping my arms tighter around myself, I decided to call it a night.