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Shaun: Has there been anyone strange or suspicious around?
Claire: No. Only Vern :)
Shaun: Good. Sleep tight, Claire
Claire: Goodnight, Shaun
Chapter 14
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‘Kia Ora from New Zealand,
One of my boys seen the dark-haired girl with a scar down her neck that you’re looking for. She’s staying out by us. I need five thousand pounds wired to the account below.
Once we get that we can talk.
Cobra King’
Irish read the message in his encrypted mail again. It was the right country. He hadn’t said anything about location on the contract he’d put out globally on Claire Williams. But five thousand quid? That was bloody steep without supplying any proof. And this ‘Cobra King’? Who the Hell was he?
‘I’ll wire you a thousand. The other four you get once you send me photographs of her.
Irish’
Sitting at his desk, he played with the paperclip in his hand, stretching the bends out until it was a straight piece of wire again. Bending it hard in two, the wire snapped in his fingers.
Was he any closer?
Perhaps. There was still not a sniff on Sion Edwards. But this was a waiting game and he’d have to be patient a little while longer.
???
Painting the rooms with the same colours as the pots in the shed, no problem.
But, now Shaun says he wants me to order the furnishings and I have a budget and a card to pay for it all.
This should be every woman’s dream job. Isn’t it supposed to be in our DNA? But, honestly, I haven’t got a clue what I’m doing.
I’m so terrified about getting it wrong that I flip out on the phone to Celia. She tells me to get my butt over to the café in town tout-suite.
The eatery is an incongruously uber-artsy joint in this rural outpost of a town. I order a flat white and search for Celia who I find with her friend in the back courtyard.
“Claire, this is Tia.”
Celia introduces me to a stylish young woman with long wavy brown hair. Straightaway the wonderful piece of carved jade she’s wearing around her neck tells me that she’s artsy. As opposed to me, I think a little self-consciously in my plain black t-shirt and paint-flecked cargo pants.
“Kia Ora, Claire.”
She greets me with a pristine smile.
“Tia owns this place.”
The back of the cafe is a walled garden, stuffed with tropical plants in pots and covered overhead in strings of garlanding light bulbs.
“Bought it on a whim. Been the bane of my life and the joy of it ever since.”
“It’s very cool.”
Like her.
Celia presses on.
“Tia trained as a designer. She can help you.”
“Thank God!”
She’s surprised by the strong hug I give her.
“I’m way out of my depth.”
Tia gets out her phone and shows me pictures of bedrooms.
“Keep it plain. Buy neutral colours for the bedding.”
Celia sips her coffee.
“Especially if it’s for paying guests. You’ll be needing to keep them freshly updated.”
I hadn’t thought of that. I’m like a sponge soaking up their every word.
I see what she means. The art and the cushions pop out the colour but everything else is muted.
She promises to come up to the lake lodge later in the afternoon to help to get me going. I’m so thankful, she has no idea. Celia is a miracle-worker.
As soon as I’m back at the lodge, I disappear down the Google rabbit hole, scouring the internet for bedroom ideas and looking at the colours so that I can have some ideas to show Tia.
It’s more fun than I thought, and I get carried away. So much so, that when I hear the sound of her SUV pulling up outside the lodge, I realise that the groceries I bought in town are still lying in their bags on the countertop.
“Hey! Come on in, I’m a woman obsessed!”
“I always wanted to see inside this place.”
Tia glides into the kitchen. She’s effortlessly cool, I think enviously as she floats around the place like an exotic butterfly, while I’m shoving things into the fridge.
“Ahh, the living room.”
“Yeah, I love the windows and the view.”
“Whose idea was it to paint over the wood on the walls with white?”
“Shaun’s. He’s the owner.”
“I love it. It feels kinda Scandi.”
“That’s the problem. He’s great at this, which makes it ten times worse if I stuff it up.”
She tuts and brushes that idea away with her hand.
“Gimme a tiki tour of the rooms.”
We spend all afternoon measuring and evaluating each room. The space, the light, the colour. I’m learning so much. Then I grab the laptop so we can go online to find ideas and stockists.
She stares at my photo on the screen background. It’s one I took of the lake. It was early morning and there was a mist rolling across it. It’s one of my favourites.
“Who did that?”
I grin at her and shrug.
“You got some more?”
Standing on the porch I hug her again. This time it’s with genuine affection, not like this morning when I clung to her like a life raft in the ocean.
I’ve hammered Shaun’s credit card pretty hard but it’s still way below the budget he gave me.
She won’t hear of me paying for her time.
“Ten percent commission on those pictures is good enough for me.”
We’ve ordered a set of canvases from my lake photos for her café. I’m really not sure that she’ll be able to sell them all but I don’t want to dampen her enthusiasm.
Tia smiles at me.
“This was fun. Monday night at the café, we’ve got a girl’s night goin’ on. Please say you’ll come?”
“I’d love to.”
Today has been one of the best here. I hadn’t realised how lonely I’d become out at the lake.
“Who’s that?”
She sweeps her long, dark hair over her shoulder and looks over to the shoreline to where a huge bald man with a long beard is taking photographs of the lake. “You seen him before?”
“No. I’ve not seen anyone really, the odd fisherman and family come up for the day. That’s it.”
My attention is drawn to the telephoto lens.
“He’s got a professional bit of kit there. He’s probably a twitcher.”
“A what?”
“A birdwatcher.”
“But the guy was taking snaps of the lodge and us on the deck.”
“The place does look so pretty by the shore, don’t you think? He looks like he’s a professional photographer.”
Tia stares at him doubtfully. The back of his leather jacket has a large snake on it.
“Not sure about that. And no way will his snaps be as good as yours. I’ll stay here ‘til here’s gone.”
She’s being overly cautious. I guess it’s because he’s a big guy and he looks a little intimidating. But he can’t help that. Working behind a bar has taught me that some of the toughest looking biker blokes are the biggest softies at heart.
He wanders peacefully away along the beach and a few minutes later we hear the unmistakable popping of his Harley Davidson telling us he’s moved off.
“It’s a bit lonely out here, Claire.”
Tia looks concerned.
“When did ya say your boss is back?”
“Another couple of weeks.”
“If you want to take a break and come crash out at the beach with me, just say. Any time. I mean it. I’ve plenty of space. And if you have any agro out here, you give me a call. I’ll get my brothers out to you right away.”
“Thanks. Honest, Tia, I’ll be fine. But I’ll see ya Monday night, yeah?”
???
Shaun’s heart leapt when he h
eard the familiar sound of an incoming message. Claire was online. He grabbed the phone from the charger and lay back on his small hostel bed to read what she’d sent him. He laughed out loud. It was a warning. She’d been spending his money.
Claire: Don’t have a blue fit when you see your bank account, okay? I’m giving you fair warning
Shaun: Is it gonna hurt?
Claire: Uhh, I’m not over budget but I have ordered furnishings for all the bedrooms
Shaun: Good
Claire: It was fun. I had help from Tia, a local designer. She’s invited me to a girls night out. She owns the café
Shaun: Making friends here, then?
Claire: I hope so
Shaun: Putting down roots?
Claire: I’ve only got a six-month visa, so not likely
Shaun: You’ll have to marry a resident then, to stay
Claire: I’m looking every day
Shaun: Is that right?
Claire: Uh-huh... Vern tells me he’s not interested
Shaun: He’s playing hard to get
Claire: Y’think?
Shaun: Definitely
Claire: Oh well. And you’re gay, so I’m running out of options
Shaun considered his response.
Shaun: I’m not gay, Claire
He felt his pulse racing as he waited for what she was going to say next.
Claire: You’re not?
Shaun: You’re shocked?
