chick peas, tomatoes, onions and garlic with fresh crusty bread, they made their way through to the sitting-room and Matt sprawled on the floor, his head propped up on the edge of the settee, legs stretched out towards the wood-burning stove. Polly sat on the chair beside him, with her legs curled up under her, nursing a cup of coffee and watching him as he told her about the renovation of his cottage.
She was amazed. It had obviously taken him almost all the year he had been with the practice, and he had achieved a tremendous amount in that time.
‘Did you want to do it all yourself? she asked, curious for more information about this man who was beginning to fascinate her more and more.
‘Needs must,’ he replied with a wry grin. ‘I’m not made of money, and I had to buy into the practice, find an affordable house and get a reliable car all at once. It wasn’t easy. It isn’t easy. Sometimes I can’t afford to eat.’
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