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"I'm serious, you look fine. It has been a bit of a chaotic morning, hasn't it?" He smiled at her, somehow knowing she would love that. This is what she'd wanted all along, the results, action, the chase. He gave her an encouraging push on the rump, nodding at the door.
She straightened her t-shirt for the third time and walked back up the path.
He watched as she ducked her head under the ivy-covered awning over the door. He heard her rap and moments later the creak of the door opening.
"Hello, I'm sorry to disturb you."
"I bet you've got lost on the road, haven't you?"
He couldn't see the person who spoke, but the voice was soft and feminine.
"Almost. I'm actually looking for Quentin Edwards, are we in the right place?" She glanced over her shoulder to include Sebastian.
He stepped forward on cue and caught sight of the petite blonde from the photo of the TV crew he'd seen in Quentin Edwards' apartment, a few days before. She looked different, dressed in a flowered dress, but it was her all right.
"You surely are. I'll call him for you."
That was hopeful. At least she hadn't reacted as if they were in hiding, otherwise she might not have admitted to his presence. The blonde woman called out his name then invited them in to the cottage.
"He's doing battle with the wood stove in the kitchen," she added, apologetically, as they stepped into a room with a low ceiling, beamed and dominated by two armchairs that were far too big for the space. "Please, take a seat." She flitted away through a door as she gestured at the chairs.
Amy sat on the edge of one chair, her eyes bright, smiling expectantly. Sebastian left the spare armchair and headed toward a plumply cushioned window seat he'd spied as he walked in. He gave her a squeeze on the shoulder as he passed and her hand fleetingly touched his, returning the encouragement.
A moment later the petite hostess came back into the room followed by Mr. Quentin Edwards himself. His appearance in real life was quite different to his TV persona, Sebastian noticed. When he dominated the Ghost Hunter set with his larger-than-life personality he had the look of a wise-sage or academic type. He wore tweed jackets complete with leather patches on the elbows and heavily corded trousers. Mismatched check shirts and ties were his trademark. It was the mad professor TV personality image and Quentin Edwards had it down to a T. And yet here he was wearing a pair of Bermuda shorts, open-toed sandals and a bright yellow t-shirt, all of which were partly covered over by a blue and white striped butcher's apron. His neatly trimmed beard was somewhat bushier in real life, and the studio hairdresser had definitely not teased his hair recently.
Amy stood up and put out her hand. Quentin, who looked as confused as a little lamb taking its first steps, came over to take her hand.
"Hello, Mr. Edwards, you don't know me, my name is Amy Norton and I work for The City News. This is Sebastian Armitage…my partner." She looked back at him and smiled as she said it.
The remark had a quirky effect on Sebastian. He knew how she meant it though. She meant they were out on the road and having a wacky adventure together, and that tickled him. He felt proud and pleased, but he still hankered for more. Deep down he wished they were destined to be partners for much longer than the duration of this job, a whole heap longer.
Amy turned back to her confused host. "I do hope you don't mind us calling in to see you. We were in your local shop and the shopkeeper overheard us mention your name. I don't know if you are aware of it but there is a lot of concern as to your missing person status, back in London?"
"Missing person?" Quentin blurted, incredulously. He and his companion looked at each other, both of them obviously shocked to the rafters by Amy's remark. "Please take a seat. You're going to have to explain." He started to undo his apron, pulling it over his head and scrunching it into a ball before he threw it off.
"Yes, of course."
Sebastian could tell she was holding back her excitement. She was being professional, and it was holding her nicely in check.
"Natasha, have we got any tea bags left?"
The blonde woman, Natasha, bit her lip, looking sheepish. "I'm afraid we're not very well set up for receiving guests," she said to Amy. "We're up here on holiday and we're not coping at all well with the back-to-nature thing." She laughed. It was a delighted bubble of sound.
Sebastian took his opportunity and lifted the carrier bag he held in his hand. "We took the liberty of bringing some supplies, a bottle or two and some sandwiches from the shop."
Natasha and Quentin both broke into smiles.
"That was very good of you," Quentin replied. "You must stay for lunch in that case, and you can tell us what's been going on in London."
"Yes, why don't you all come into the kitchen," Natasha added, as she took the bag from Sebastian. "There's a big table in there and we can sit and have a proper chat. I must say, it's nice to see some folks from the big smoke. We've been like fish out of water up here in the wilds."
Amy winked at Sebastian, beaming. She looked so happy and that made him feel good, really good, and he knew why. It was because he loved her. He was desperately in love with her. He loved everything about her, her impetuosity, her conviction, her hotheadedness and above all her spirit. Life would never be dull with Ms. Amy Norton around.
As he followed her into the kitchen, though, Sebastian's smile slowly faded. What would happen now? He thought they had at least another few days together, but she'd got her scoop and the job would soon be over. Where did that leave him?
* * * *
Between the food they'd brought and the provisions Natasha had been given by a neighboring farmer's wife who'd taken pity on them, they had quite the farmhouse lunch. Natasha arranged the selection of sandwiches Sebastian had brought from the fisherman's shop on a large platter, while Quentin uncorked a couple of bottles of wine out of a crate he'd brought with them from London. The neighbor's contribution, a huge chunk of homemade fruit loaf and a crumbly white cheese, stood on a chopping board looking mouth-wateringly tempting. Amy's stomach rumbled. Although they had eaten supper late the night before, skipping breakfast really was beginning to take its toll.
