Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
The next few weeks were a blur of deciding which of my paintings and Katie’s ceramics to put for sale in the cottages, ensuring the correct furniture was delivered and finalising the design of a colour brochure advertising White Willow Cottages.
We’d also managed to secure a series of adverts in the Port Starr Press and Caleb had finalised our website and social media accounts.
We’d been surprised and delighted by the response to our job advert for another cleaner to replace Katie, and after interviewing three suitable candidates, we hired a local young mum by the name of Maisie Prestwick.
I snapped my head up to look at my big brother. ‘There isn’t a story.’
Caleb’s lips twitched. ‘From what I hear, you two have joined together to defeat the forces of evil.’
‘You’ve been reading too many comics.’
Caleb smiled. ‘I half expected you to turn up today with your knickers on over your trousers.’
‘You leave my underwear out of this.’
There was a pause. ‘So, it isn’t true, then?’
‘What isn’t true?’
‘That you and the hot Aussie are getting close.’
I fidgeted. Caleb wasn’t going to drop the subject until he got a satisfactory answer.
Mason and I weren’t getting close. We were just working together …
weren’t we? ‘Yes, I did have lunch with him, but it was just a chat about the Scarlet Highwayman.’ I lifted my shoulders and let them fall again in what I hoped was a casual look.
‘I haven’t seen him since. We’ve spoken about how his research is going, though. ’
Caleb shot me a wary glance. ‘I saw him and a woman last night strolling down by the beach with a dog.’
My back stiffened. I couldn’t help it. My voice turned all weird.
‘Mason was with a woman?’ So, were all Mason’s protests a ruse?
Was he dating somebody after all? Had I been right when I’d been wondering whether he was taking someone out to dinner the other evening?
An odd, heavy feeling settled in my stomach.
‘Aye. It looked pretty intense from what I could see. She was petite, attractive, waist-length dark hair.’ He narrowed his eyes in concentration. ‘She was maybe of Chinese heritage. They were huddled together down by the shore, talking away.’
‘Right,’ I replied, arranging my face into a stiff ‘I couldn’t give a toss expression. I busied myself with some mugs in the cupboard for something to do. ‘And why should I be interested in that?’
My brother frowned down at me. ‘I just don’t want to see you get hurt all over again.’
Frustration flared up inside me. ‘You only get hurt by someone if you’re emotionally involved with them and I’m not.’ I dismissed pictures of Mason’s dimples erupting when he smiled. ‘He’s just an associate,’ I faltered. ‘That’s it.’
Caleb studied me gently. He paused. ‘Joe said Mason lives in one of those snazzy new apartments overlooking McKerron Castle.’
‘Yes. Rather hypocritical, don’t you think?’
Caleb and I spun around at the third voice that had interrupted us.
Alex Lapley was standing on the cobbles at the annexe entrance, like a blond mannequin. ‘A historian, supposedly appreciative of our national treasures, and yet he’s treated himself to one of those brand-spanking-new flats?’
‘Don’t you know it’s rude to listen to other people’s conversations?’ snarled Caleb. ‘And what are you doing back round here again, anyway?’
Alex’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Oh, just looking into one or two things.’ His fingers reached up and stroked his raspberry-coloured tie. ‘I hear that Mr Cooper is still investigating the Scarlet Highwayman?’
My mouth pressed into a firm line. ‘And?’
Caleb took a couple of deliberate steps towards Alex, his combat trousers rustling. ‘If you want any gossip, I suggest you head elsewhere.’
Alex’s stare narrowed. ‘Still drawing matchstick men, then, Summers?’
Caleb grunted and I shot out and grabbed hold of my brother’s bunched fist, which was promising to make contact with Alex Lapley’s jaw. ‘I’m afraid we can’t help you. Sorry.’
Alex tweaked the matching handkerchief poking out of his jacket pocket. ‘Good luck with your little business,’ he lied through unnaturally white teeth. ‘Something tells me you’re going to need it.’ Then he swaggered back towards his expensive monster of a car.
‘That sounded like another threat,’ I whispered to Caleb. ‘Why is Alex Lapley lurking around Port Starr?’
My brother rubbed his shadowy red stubble. ‘Knowing that lot, money will be at the root of it.’ He stepped back into the confines of the annexe. ‘He’s always been full of it. Just ignore him and concentrate on this place.’
I gave Caleb an unconvincing nod, before pinning on a smile for Katie and Joe, who came ambling in.
And as we chatted about our grand opening in a few days’ time, as well as enjoying some Danish pastries Katie had brought along with her, I knew I had to tell Mason about Alex Lapley turning up again.
‘I’ll give Mason a call and tell him what’s been going on,’ I said to Caleb as he prepared to leave.
His hazel eyes glittered. ‘I thought you weren’t interested in him.’
I fired a warning look. ‘I’m not.’ I edged a bit closer to the doorway. ‘Mason told me to ring him if Alex ever came sniffing around again.’
Caleb hitched his rucksack tighter over his shoulder. His red brows wriggled. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing going on between you and Crocodile Dundee?’
‘For pity’s sake, there isn’t,’ I insisted.
‘At least not in the way you mean.’ I shoved my hands into the back pockets of my black jeans, not knowing what to do with them.
‘It’s just all local gossip with no truth in it.
’ I swallowed. ‘And you said Mason was spotted with a woman anyway.’ Caleb kept studying me, but I kept talking, realising I was trying to convince myself every bit as much as my brother.
‘Just believe me when I tell you Mason will want to know about Alex hanging around again.’
Caleb sighed. ‘All of this sounds like an episode of Scooby-Doo.’ Then he broke into a grin. ‘Does that make you Daphne and if so, Mason will be Fred?’
‘Enough with the attempt at humour.’
Once my brother vanished, I gave Mason a call and told him about the latest developments.
‘Why don’t you pop over to my place this afternoon?’ he asked.
I blinked in surprise at the end of the line. ‘Sorry?’
‘I’m waiting for a phone call at any moment from a TV producer friend of mine about this documentary I’m pushing about the Scarlet Highwayman and would prefer to take the call at home, if that’s okay.’
I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times.
Mason had just invited me over to his flat.
My heart did a weird squirm. I thought about what Caleb had told me about the mystery woman he’d been seen with.
But then again, there was nothing between us, so what did that matter?
I put my sensible head on. ‘Oh. Okay. Right.’
‘My address is Apartment 3, Chestnut Lane. Why don’t you come over at two and you can tell me everything then?’
Mason’s apartment was on the ground floor of the block, angled towards the edge of the harbour.
McKerron Castle could be seen shooting upwards in all its crumbling greystone glory as it jutted out a little further along the coastal road.
Its reflection shimmered on top of the expanse of ice-blue water.
The block where Mason lived was built from butterscotch brick and each apartment had floor-to-ceiling windows and boasted a wrought-iron balcony.
My stomach somersaulted as I raised my hand to the entry system and pressed the circular silver button for Apartment 3. I tried to give myself a mental shake.
Remember to keep him at a distance, I lectured myself. One minute he’s going on about remaining single, and the next he’s seen taking evening strolls on the beach with some mystery woman. Maybe that was the same woman he had that dinner date with. He could be a player.
Not that it mattered to me whether he was or not. Mason could do what he liked. The important thing was that I wasn’t prepared to get caught up in his games.
There was silence at the other end of the intercom. Maybe he wasn’t in. Perhaps he was strolling along the beach with Darwin and his girlfriend. Again.
I bit back an irritated image of Mason and this faceless woman and then became even more frustrated with myself for giving the matter more thought in the first place.
A loud crackle made me jump. ‘Hello?’
I found myself tightening my swish of blonde ponytail and snatching a glance at my lipstick in the reflection of the chrome entry panel.
When I realised what I was doing, I gave myself a stern talking to. ‘Er … hi, Mason? It’s me. Poppy. Poppy Summers.’
‘Hi. Come on in.’
The glass entry door made a whooshing sound and I entered a squeaky-clean, dove-grey-and-white-carpeted hallway. As I turned the corner, Mason was already waiting for me at his apartment door.
His light-grey eyes bore into mine. ‘Please come in.’
I followed him into the apartment, which seemed to consist of mainly unopened boxes, a black-and-white marble kitchen cluttered with mismatched crockery and a sitting room in the midst of organised chaos.
Two bottle-green velvet armchairs sat at the main window, as if inspecting the craggy dips and lurches of the Port Starr landscape.
Along the cream-painted back wall had been pushed a small, two-seater sofa.
This too was of green velvet and was scattered with three plump black-and-white-striped cushions.
On one shelf sat a series of books, their spines boasting everything from biographies of Christopher Columbus and King Richard III to travel guides for France and the memoirs of Winston Churchill. There were even the odd Wilbur Smith and Dan Brown.
Darwin charged out of the kitchen.
‘Here’s your fan club,’ said Mason with amusement.
I knelt down on the biscuit-coloured carpet and hugged the Old English sheepdog. He frolicked up and down, panting excitedly.
I found myself searching subconsciously for any signs of a female presence as we exchanged polite conversation, but I couldn’t see any traces of a woman staying here.
What was it that Caleb had said about the evening he’d seen Mason and a woman strolling along the beach? I registered with a sharp stab that I was paying far too much attention to his personal life. It was becoming a bit of a habit.
‘Please take a seat,’ offered Mason after a pause. ‘Would you like a tea or coffee?’
‘Please don’t feel you have to go to any trouble.’
‘It’s no trouble. Just give me the rest of the day to locate some spoons.’
He stalked off into the kitchen to prise open a couple of brown cardboard boxes. ‘Ah. Found them,’ he called through.
‘Then a camomile tea would be good, thanks.’
‘Camomile?’ he repeated in his Australian way. ‘Do I look like the kind of guy who might drink herbal tea?’
I laughed. ‘Don’t worry. Breakfast tea will be fine. Thank you.’
‘How do you take it?’
‘Just a splash of milk please.’
In a few minutes, he was striding back towards me, clutching my tea and a black coffee which looked more like road tar. He handed me my mug, and his long fingers brushed against my outstretched fingertips.
I looked up to search his face. His expression was intense, his eyes drifting from mine to linger on my lips.
Then the spell was broken and he sank down in the chair opposite and slid his long legs out. He was all broad shoulders and furling dark hair. ‘So, tell me again what happened.’
I blinked and sat up straighter. Had I just imagined that? I refocused. ‘It’s Alex Lapley,’ I replied, as the afternoon light slithered off the cliff face out of the window. ‘He turned up again this morning.’
Mason’s coffee was halfway to his lips. It hovered there. ‘Oh, yes? What did he want?’
‘I’m not sure, but I thought you ought to know.’ I considered what I wanted to say before I spoke again. ‘He mentioned you looking into the Scarlet Highwayman story and the fact that you’re now living here.’
Mason’s lips twitched. ‘My presence seems to have riled him. I wonder why that is?’
I took another sip of tea. ‘That wasn’t all. He referred to White Willow Cottages and said something about needing all the luck I can get.’
His brows darkened. ‘He threatened you?’
‘Not exactly. It was more of a sly dig, rather than full-blown intimidation.’
Darwin padded across the carpet and flopped himself down at his master’s feet.
Mason looked pensive. ‘I think I’m going to pay our neighbourhood tour guide another visit.’
‘That’s a good idea. I’ll come with you.’
He frowned at me.
I leaned forward, lacing my fingers around my mug.
‘If there’s any possibility that the Lapley family have been up to no good and misleading the folks round here, believe me, the locals will want to know about it.
’ I drank the rest of my tea and set the mug down on the glass coffee table in front of me.
At that moment, Mason’s mobile rang out on the table. He craned forward. ‘That’s the call I’ve been waiting for. Let me take it and then we’ll go together.’
Mason took his call out in the hallway and a few minutes later, came back in. ‘Okay, Rapunzel, let’s go.’
‘Rapunzel?’ I asked, incredulous.
‘You’ve got her gorgeous hair,’ he remarked casually.
I gazed up at him. ‘Thanks.’
Mason snatched his jacket from a coat peg in the hall. ‘Go on, then,’ he said with an air of exasperation, reverting to professional mode again. ‘We’ve got some sleuthing to do.’