the fact that she’d been squatting in his house – she knew he would. He was a scuba diver, and divers were laidback individuals. Maybe he’d even allow her to stay on until she got herself sorted with money and somewhere else to live? What the hell – she hadn’t much choice. She had no choice. She looked at the phone in her hand, then scrolled through the menu until she found Finn’s number. Clicking on the cursor in the text message box, she thought for a moment or two, then smiled. Help! she entered in the blank space.
Beyond the glass, she saw Finn take his phone from his pocket, and consult the screen with a perplexed expression. Seconds later, she received the following message.
Who is dis?
I am an orfan of da storm i need ur help luk oot ur windo.
It took ages for her to compose the text, but it was worth the effort. If Cat hadn’t been so cold, the look on Finn’s face might have made her laugh. Approaching the big window that overlooked the bay, he placed the palms of his hands against it and squinted through cautiously.
Rong window, texted Cat. Try da other 1.
He turned and looked over his shoulder, out over the black expanse of the patio and the derelict swimming pool.
Ur gettin warmer but im not its freezin out here.
Finn looked really spooked now. Feeling sorry for him, Cat pressed ‘Call’.
‘Who the hell is this?’ he said, picking up.
‘I am the Cat who walks by herself,’ Cat told him in her growliest voice, ‘and I wish to come into your house.’
‘Look, I don’t know what you’re playing at, but—’
‘Oh, Finn! Let me in!’ she wailed. ‘It’s me – it’s Catty! I’ve come ho-ome. Please let me in.’
‘You are fucking barking, whoever you are.’
‘No, no – I’m mewling, piteously. Come . . . come to the window.’ She watched as Finn moved slowly in the direction of the window through which she was spying on him. ‘That’s right. See? Here I am!’ Cat emerged from the overgrown rose bush behind which she’d been concealing herself, stretched out her arms to him and smiled.
Lunging backwards, Finn let out a yell, and this time she did laugh. ‘Who the fuck are you?’ he demanded.
‘I told you. It’s Cat. Cat Gallagher. Remember me? We met at The O’Hara Affair wrap party. Won’t you please let me come in? I’m awful cold.’
‘What are you doing out there?’
Moving right up against the plate glass, Cat pressed her face against it. ‘Let me in, and I’ll tell you,’ she said.
Finn gave her a wary look, hesitated, then tugged at the handle. ‘I can’t open it. It’s locked. Come round the front, and I’ll let you in there.’
‘No. I can find my own way. Give me a moment.’
Pressing ‘End Call’, Cat danced away from the window, and back up the balcony steps. In the bedroom, she grabbed her sleeping bag, unzipped it, and wrapped it around herself, shawl-fashion. Then she pattered down the staircase, through the massive entrance hall and into the sitting room. Finn had moved into the centre of the floor, and was standing lobbing his phone from hand to hand, looking rattled.
‘How did you manage that?’
Cat gave him a Giaconda smile. ‘I flew in through my bedroom window.’
‘Sorry . . . your bedroom window?’
‘Yes. I’m squatting here.’
‘You . . . but this is my dad’s house!’
‘Maybe. But it’s been lying empty for far too long, and it suits me perfectly.’
‘Is that right? Well, good for you, Catgirl, but your time as house sitter’s up. You can get lost now.’
‘Finn! Don’t be so heartless. You should be glad that it’s me and not some skanky gang of vagrants that’s been living here.’ She pulled her sleeping bag tighter around herself and gave him a look of appraisal. ‘So. Your dad must be the Mystery Buyer?’
‘What?’
‘Word in the village is that this place has been bought by a Mystery Buyer.’
‘A Mystery Buyer?’
‘Yes.’
Finn laughed. ‘That’s a bit cloak and dagger, ain’t it? There’s no mystery about it, really. Dad just wanted to keep it quiet.’
‘Why?’
‘Ever heard of press intrusion? My dad likes to keep his private life exactly that – private. And anyway, what are you doing sticking your nose in? It’s none of your damn business.’
Cat shrugged. ‘Well, it kinda is my business, since I’ve laid claim to the joint.’
‘Don’t be so stupid,’ scoffed Finn. ‘You can’t lay claim to a house just because you’ve been living in it.’
‘All property is theft, squatters have rights, and possession is nine-tenths of the law.’
‘That’s crap. Now go away. I’ve just flown in from LA and I’m jetlagged and not in the mood for Marxist trivia.’
Cat gave him an aggrieved look. ‘You should be grateful to me for taking care of the joint. It badly needed TLC.’
‘And what kind of TLC have you been giving it?’
‘Um . . . I’ve sprayed it with Febreze. Smell!’
Finn sniffed the air tentatively, and Cat laughed. ‘It’s roses. Wild roses.’
‘Febreze wild roses?’
‘No. Real roses. I brought masses of them in – they’re growing like crazy in the garden. You really think I’m the kind of gal who’d go around polluting the atmosphere with air freshener?’
‘I don’t know what you’re capable of. I hardly know you.’
She slanted him a smile. ‘But I intrigue you, don’t I?’
‘It would be hard not to be intrigued by a girl who arrives out of the blue in the middle of the night wearing nothing but a sarong and a sleeping bag.’ Finn started lobbing his phone from hand to hand again. ‘You could be like something out of Wallander. For all I know you’re planning to slit my throat. That Swiss Army knife I saw in the kitchen is yours, isn’t it? Not some nefarious accomplice’s?’
‘Yes, it’s mine.’ Cat looked towards the door. ‘Can I have something to eat? I saw your boxes in the hall, all piled with grub.’
There was a beat, then Finn gave a nod of assent. ‘Sure,’ he said.
‘Thanks.
