she threw back at him. ‘You’re very welcome to my abode. It beats the hell out of the last joint I broke into. That was a tip. This is like the Ritz Carlton in comparison.’
Following her through into the hall, Finn paused to pick up one of the boxes, then moved into the kitchen where more candles were burning. ‘How have you managed without electricity?’
‘I have a Primus.’
‘What about water?’
‘I’m a hardy creature. As long as I’m connected to a supply, it doesn’t matter if it’s hot or cold.’
‘You wouldn’t be so complacent if it was winter,’ he remarked, setting the box on a countertop.
Cat shrugged. ‘I managed to get through last winter on a houseboat.’
‘No shit.’ Finn gave her an admiring look.
‘It was no big deal,’ she told him, carelessly.
‘So you really are a vagabond?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Cool!’
Cat’s nonchalance was entirely affected. Privately, she rather liked the idea of Finn thinking she was a vagabond. There was something boho and romantic about it. He didn’t need to know that the houseboat had all mod cons, and that the only reason she was living rough now was because her next house-sitting gig had fallen through. He didn’t need to know that she was, in effect, a Trustafarian, living on an allowance from her daddy. Well, waiting for an allowance from her daddy. Until that came through, she guessed she really was a vagabond.
Humming a little tune, she set about ransacking the box of groceries. ‘Let’s see what you’ve got here. Bread, cheese, salami, tomatoes. Wine! Excellent. A very acceptable Bordeaux. You have good taste.’
‘You know about wine?’
‘I’m spoofing,’ she lied. He didn’t need to know that she knew the difference between Bordeaux and Burgundy. He didn’t need to know anything about her. She could be an enigma! An enigmatic vagabond. She liked the idea of that. Passing him her Swiss Army knife, she watched as he started to uncork the bottle. ‘Tell me about you. What are you doing here?’
‘I’ve come to kick this house into shape.’
‘That’ll take some doing. Bits of it are falling down. What made your dad buy a crumbling mansion like this?’
‘He can afford it. What made you decide to break in?’
‘I was looking for somewhere to live –’ Cat broke off a hunk of bread and helped herself to salami ‘– and I found out about this place from the barman in O’Toole’s. Barmen are the most clued-in blokes in the world. They know everything there is to know about everything.’
Finn leaned up against the counter and gave her a look of assessment. ‘So what did you find out?’
‘I found that it was built by a millionaire who went bust, and that you’d once dated the millionaire’s daughter. I found out that you and the daughter were planning to run a scuba-dive outfit here, before the recession happened and things went pear-shaped. I found out that it used to be called “The Villa Felicity” after the millionaire’s ex-wife, but that everybody around here calls it “Coral Mansion”. So . . . I’m guessing that your dad bought it so you can go ahead and set up your dive business?’
Finn’s face closed over. ‘I dunno why he bought it.’
‘Yes you do. Tell me.’
‘You’re awful nosy, Cat Gallagher.’
She spread her hands. ‘I’m just curious. And being curious hasn’t killed me.’
‘Yet.’ Finn returned his attention to the wine bottle, and drew out the cork. He was clearly not going to be forthcoming. ‘Are there glasses?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’ Cat moved to a cupboard and fetched a couple of glasses from the shelf. There was one more thing she wanted to know. Turning back to him, she said, ‘What happened to the millionaire’s daughter?’
‘Last time I checked she was living in Dubai.’
‘With her millionaire daddy?’
‘Yes.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘Izzy.’
‘Izzy. Were you in love with her?’
That closed look came over Finn’s face again. ‘What’s with the third degree, Cat?’
Cat set down the glasses and hopped up on a high stool. ‘Sorry. I find it hard to shut up once I get started. You should take it as a compliment. I don’t talk much to people I don’t like.’
‘I remember that from working on the film with you. You used to prefer talking to horses.’
‘Horses talk more sense than most people I’ve met.’
Picking up one of the wineglasses, Finn squinted at the ostentatious logo before pouring the wine. ‘Designer glasses! Holy shit. I knew this house was sold fully furnished, but I wonder why they left stuff like this behind?’
‘What else would they do with it? I guess Izzy and her daddy have all the designer crystal they need in Dubai.’ Cat took the glass from Finn and sipped. ‘There’s designer stuff all over the gaff – Philippe Starck fittings in the bathrooms and all. Don’t worry, I’ve taken good care of it. It’s been like playing house living here. I’ll give you a guided tour if you like, once I’ve had something to eat. Cheers.’
‘Cheers.’ They chinked glasses, and then Cat broke off another hunk of bread, prised out the blade from her penknife and cut into the cheese. ‘I guess I’ll have to find somewhere else to live, now that the Mystery Buyer’s son’s showed up.’
‘I guess you will.’
‘Let’s hope I can find somewhere locally. I like Lissamore.’ She let a silence fall, and looked at him expectantly. Stupid Finn! He wasn’t picking up on his cues. ‘When’s your dad due?’
‘Once I’ve got the place up and running. It could take a while. He wants me to fix the pool, paint and decorate – that sort of thing. I’m going to need to hire some help.’
‘I could help you. I wield a mean paintbrush. I used to be a scenic artist, remember?’
‘I remember. But are you any good? Someone told me you got kicked off that film.’
Cat gave him an indignant look. ‘I got kicked off for not being legit, not for being crap at my job. They got all po-faced when they found out I’d no social insurance number.’
‘You really are a floater, then?’
Cat nodded. ‘Will work for food.’
‘And bed?’
‘That
