to one side of the hearth, there were none of the quirky, out-of-place bits and pieces that were collected over time, and which made her own cottage seem like a home.
Almost the only personal things in the room were a group of picture frames grouped on the dresser, and Beth paused to look at them. Matt and Jack. Matt with an older man and woman, and a young woman who was so like him she had to be his sister. She picked up a third picture, one of Jack with a different woman, his arms flung around her neck. The woman was dark, well groomed and looked into the camera with a self-possessed smile that seemed vaguely familiar.
This must be Matt’s wife. The woman who ought to be here with him and Jack, while Beth should be at home, where she belonged. Her fingers trembled as she went to replace the photograph and she started guiltily to find Matt standing beside her.
‘Oh. I’m sorry.’ Once again he had surprised her snooping.
Matt shrugged. ‘What for?’ He picked up the photo and looked at it thoughtfully. ‘That’s Jack’s mother, Mariska.’
Mariska Sutherland. The name rang a bell, too. ‘She was very beautiful.’ She wished that she was not wearing clothes that were at least four sizes too big and feeling unbearably dowdy in comparison.
Matt nodded absently. ‘She was a journalist, and she travelled a lot for her work.’ It was like a well-rehearsed answer to a question she hadn’t even asked.
Beth remembered now. ‘I’ve seen her show. I don’t usually catch daytime TV but I recorded the programme she did on cochlear implants. I thought it was very good—very clear and even-handed.’ All of the air seemed to have been sucked out of the room and she was struggling to breathe, let alone find the right words to say. ‘It must have been a terrible shock to lose her so suddenly.’
Matt gave her an odd look that she couldn’t quite fathom. ‘Yeah. Although she was away from home a lot. In many ways Jack and I were used to being on our own.’ He fixed his eyes on the floor, studying it intently. ‘He went to sleep straight away tonight, though. Stayed awake long enough to ask if you’d be here in the morning and then he was out like a light. I didn’t even get as far as Robin Hood.’
Beth grinned. ‘I don’t have anywhere else to go. Not till tomorrow, anyway.’
He nodded and for a moment their eyes locked. She felt as if she was falling towards him, into him, stopping only to brush the softness of his lips. Beth broke free with an effort and took a step back from him.
He made no indication of having noticed. ‘It’s been a tough day for all of us. I’m ready to drop. Make yourself at home here and sleep well, I’ll see you in the morning.’
He turned abruptly, not waiting for her answer, and made for the fireplace, raking over the ashes to make sure that they were properly extinguished and closing the damper to conserve the heat in the room. He paused only to issue a curt ‘Goodnight’ in Beth’s direction and then he was gone.
Mariska’s portrait drew her attention back over to the sideboard. She’d been accomplished, beautiful and successful. This was the kind of woman that someone like Matt could love—that he had loved. If Beth had needed any proof that her reaction to Matt’s smile and the brush of his fingers was strictly one-sided, then here it was.
A stab of regret gave way to a grin. Could she be any more perverse if she tried? One minute she was willing Matt to be out of reach and the next she was regretting the fact that he was. Beth rolled her eyes at her own foolishness, collected her handbag and padded up the stairs to the room that was to be hers for the night.
It appeared that father and son were working as a team the following morning. As Jack helped Beth fold her clean clothes into a pile, ready to take back with her, Matt disappeared into the garage, reappearing again with a workmanlike toolbox and a length of copper pipe, which he loaded into the boot of his car along with the rest of her possessions.
From the way that they were both dressed, jeans, heavy jumpers and in Matt’s case a pair of thick-soled boots, it looked unlikely that he intended to simply drop her off at her cottage. As Matt produced a pair of red Wellingtons and a second pair of socks, insisting that Jack put them on, Beth wondered what he was intending to do with his morning, and when he intended to inform her about it.
Her cottage looked deceptively cheery from the outside, but inside it was a very different matter. The place was already beginning to smell damp and everything was cold and wet, including the walls. Matt dumped his toolbox in the hall and peered up the stairs at the loft hatch. ‘I’ll just go and take a look in the loft. Have you got a ladder?’
‘Please, you’ve done enough already. I texted Marcie this morning and she and her husband should be here in a couple of hours.’
He gave her a hurt look. ‘I’m pretty handy with a wrench. Learned all I know from my father—he’s a plumber and electrician by trade and has his own contracting company. He was very upset when I failed to follow in his footsteps and went to medical school.’
Matt’s lopsided grin gave the lie to any disappointment on his father’s part. A vision of what else Matt might be handy with flew into her head and she turned to Jack, trying to ignore the heat that was spreading through her. ‘Is there any end to your dad’s talents?’
‘Well, as Jack points out, I’m pretty deficient when it comes to signing. So I’ll just leave you two down here to send a few secret messages to each other while you’re mopping up.’ He gave her a wink, and suddenly he became an essential part of the rest of her morning.
Jack stamped on the wet carpet, his Wellington boots throwing up little splashes of water, and Beth couldn’t help but laugh. ‘I guess I don’t have much choice.’
‘No, you don’t. Jack, find the torch for me, will you?’
By the time Matt reappeared from the loft, an hour later, Beth was wiping the kitchen cupboards dry and Jack was tipping water from cups and bowls into the sink. His jeans were grimy from the loft and a streak of dirt ran across his brow, where he had obviously swept his hand across it. He looked about ten years younger and a world away from the tightly buttoned man that she had met yesterday.
‘Will you turn the water on if I shout when I’m ready?’ He took the stairs two at a time when she nodded her assent, and she craned to watch him disappear up through the loft hatch on the upstairs landing.
Matt’s ’Okay’ came booming down the stairs and Beth twisted the stopcock, hearing the pipes gurgle and bang as water rushed through them. She held her breath, waiting for any signs of a leak. Jack capered at the bottom of the stairs and turned to her as she strained to hear Matt’s muffled voice.
‘Dad says that it’s all okay up there.’ Jack skipped over to her and flung his arms round her neck and Beth stood up, lifting Jack with her and swinging him around. Suddenly her little house was hers again. The unruly cascades of water were back under control and she could start to think about cleaning up properly. After the shock of last night, when it had felt as if her whole world was crumbling around her, this was a huge step.
Matt appeared, grinning at his success, and before she knew what she was doing, Beth had laid her free hand on his shoulder and stood on her toes to brush a brief kiss across his cheek. Remembering herself, she drew back suddenly and found that Matt’s hand had snaked around her, his palm on the small of her back. As quickly as she felt it there, he pulled away, almost as if she had burned him, and he took a step back.
‘Water’s
