so they can’t back out.’
‘I’m sure they won’t,’ he said more confidently than he felt. Even though he hadn’t been up to the studio yet, he was worried about what the new tenants would think of it. If it was as dilapidated as Fen made out – not to mention his parents, who had said they were shocked by the state of the place when they’d last visited a few months previously – he wouldn’t blame the new arrivals for claiming the place wasn’t as advertised and they were heading home.
Maybe they already had heard on the grapevine somehow … Poppy McGregor clearly didn’t share her partner’s enthusiasm, judging by the email the property agent had forwarded to Jake.
Don’t worry, I’m coming. Let’s face it, I’ve no choice now, ha ha. :( :(
Let’s face it, I’ve no choice now … It wasn’t very professional for a business email, but maybe Poppy was the quirky type. And the ‘ha ha’ and double horrified emojis had rung a few alarm bells. There was quirky, and then there was bonkers and impossible to deal with. Jake didn’t want any hassle. He simply wanted to hand over the Starfish Studio to Poppy and Dan and bugger off back home to see his family and his own flat.
Personally, he thought the two of them were nuts to leave civilisation and come to the back end of beyond, but maybe they had wide-eyed dreams of starting a new life away from the rat race. Maybe it had been her partner’s idea to move and now she’d burnt her bridges, she had no choice but to go along with his lunatic scheme. Shit. He really hoped they wouldn’t cause him too much hassle. They’d signed the lease and technically couldn’t back out now, but the Starfish was in a state … In twenty-four hours, could he make a difference? If the Islander ferry was stuck in Penzance he might have longer … unless, of course, Poppy and Dan decided to take the plane or helicopter.
Fen broke into his thoughts. ‘Do you want a hand sprucing the place up? Will you be going in there this evening?’
Jake smiled. She had enough on her plate keeping her own place from falling down without labouring at the Starfish.
‘That’s good of you, but I don’t think there’s a lot I can do this evening. I plan to get an early start in there tomorrow. Think I’ll go up to Grandpa’s cottage now and settle in, if you don’t mind.’
She eased herself out of the chair. ‘Course not. I’m here if and when you need me. Plenty of bleach and rags here too, if you want them. I put some milk and butter in the fridge and left you a fresh loaf and a pot of my hedgerow jam. I knew the shop would be closed when you got here and wasn’t sure if you’d have time to get some food in Hugh Town. I don’t know what they’ve got left anyway. If the supply boat can’t make it tomorrow, the mainland and the off-islands will be running short of everything.’
He hugged her warmly. ‘That’s very kind. I’d probably have starved without you.’
Her face creased in pleasure. ‘If you want anything else, just pop in.’
‘Thanks. I’ll do that.’
He was halfway out of the door when she called to him from the kitchen. ‘Oh, and Jake, there’s a crate in the storeroom at the studio. I came across it the other day when I was looking out some papers.’ Fen came back into the sitting room, drying her hands on a tattered tea towel. ‘I thought it was a delivery of frames until I saw the envelope stuck on the side.’
Jake lingered on the doormat, twitching with anxiety to have some time to himself. ‘Oh?’
‘Envelope had your name on it. Didn’t Archie mention it when you saw him at your mum’s?’
‘No, he didn’t.’
‘I wonder if he had a premonition something was going to happen and thought he might not come home at all …’
She crushed the tea towel between her hands and Jake could have sworn her eyes glistened. A shiver ran up his own spine. That was all he needed: a letter from his grandpa that might have been intended to be read after his death. This visit was getting more emotionally tough by the minute and he intended to quash any thoughts of that nature, if he possibly could.
‘No.’ He reached out and touched her arm. ‘Thanks for telling me. I’ll take a look.’ But he might not actually open the envelope, he decided.
‘Good luck.’ She pecked him on the cheek. ‘And remember, I’m only five minutes away if you do need me.’
Jake got the impression that Fen didn’t want him to call her, even if she did want to help him. She probably wanted to wait until he’d had the chance to calm down after seeing the place.
‘Thanks.’ Jake smiled but started to hurry out of the door when he felt pressure against his legs as something wound its way between them. ‘Ow!’
Stars swam and he felt sick as he tried to steady himself after smacking his head against the stone lintel. He held on to the doorjamb for support and, wincing, he opened his eyes. Leo had teleported right under his feet and tripped him up. The cat stared at him, as if to say ‘what the hell is up with you, human?’
‘You won’t win,’ Jake murmured. ‘I won’t give in. I’ve faced down much bigger beasts than you.’
Leo walked past him, tail in the air.
‘You see,’ Jake muttered, ignoring the sickening throb in his forehead. ‘I told you you’d break first.’
‘What’s up?’ Fen walked into the sitting room. ‘Hit your head on the beam. Damn thing. Mind, I always told Archie you’d grow too big for St Piran’s.’
‘Leo got under my feet. Didn’t even know he was there.’
‘He’s like that. I have to watch out myself. You’ll live, though?’
‘Yeah.’ Jake glared at Leo, who had his tail to him, looking up at Fen.
Fen tutted. ‘Leo can’t help it. He’s a cat.’
Leo strolled up to Jake, staring up at him innocently.
Fen beamed in delight. ‘Aww. Bless. Puss has come to you. You’re highly honoured.’
Jake leaned down. Maybe Fen was right. Archie loved Leo, so maybe he should make an effort. Then Leo lifted his tail and sprayed a stream of urine over Jake’s legs.
As Fen shrieked in dismay, Jake shook his damp and stinking leg and sighed. Then again, maybe some rifts were too deep to heal.
‘Feeling a bit queasy, love? Still, not long to go now.’
The man opposite Poppy sank his teeth into his pasty. He had dirt under his fingernails and pastry crumbs in his scraggy greying beard … and oh God, was that a diced carrot nestled among the whiskers? He reminded her of Mr Twit from the Roald Dahl books. Mr Twit crossed with one of the Hairy Bikers.
The smell of meat and pastry hit her and her stomach clenched. She clutched the sick bag tighter. She’d have given
