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‘Goodness, I don’t want an apology! I should be the one thanking you.’ Agatha closed the door and walked stiffly into the room. ‘You livened up my life. You were always down on the beach below my property. I liked watching you.’
Remembering some of the things he’d done on the beach below her house, Conner inhaled sharply. ‘How much could you see?’
‘Well, my eyes were better in those days, of course.’ She chuckled and walked slowly towards the chair, her body bent in the shape of a question mark. She was a grey-haired lady with a jolly smile and a twinkle in her eye that hinted at a lively past. ‘I was always amazed by how successful you were. Quit
e the lad, Conner MacNeil.’
Conner gave a reluctant laugh. ‘All right, that’s probably enough of that conversation. Did you want to ask me something or are you just here to threaten me with my wicked past?’
‘Oh, no, nothing like that. I heard what you did for little Lily, by the way. I think you’re amazing.’
‘Thanks.’ So amazing that he’d left a woman crying in the room opposite. ‘What can I do for you, Mrs Patterson?’
‘Well, funnily enough, it’s my eyes I’ve come about. They’re incredibly sore.’
‘Too much watching people on the beach,’ Conner said in a wry tone, and she gave a delighted smile.
‘There’s been hardly any action since you left. These days everyone is too worried about being arrested. Not that you ever worried about that sort of thing. Anyway, I wouldn’t normally bother you with anything so pathetically trivial, but my eyes are so sore that the pain is reducing the time I can spend on the internet.’
Conner stared at her. ‘The internet?’
‘And if you’re thinking of telling me to reduce the time I spend on the computer, you needn’t waste your breath. I’m careful never to do more than eight hours a day.’
Conner glanced at his own computer screen, searching for the information he wanted. ‘You’re…eighty-six, Mrs Patterson. Is that right?’
‘Eighty-seven next week.’
‘And you’re spending…’ he cleared his throat, intrigued by his patient ‘…how long on the internet?’
‘No more than eight hours a day.’ She curled her fingers around the strap of her bag. ‘Given the chance, I’d spent longer, but with my eyes the way they are…’
Conner gave a disbelieving laugh. ‘I have to ask this—just what are you doing on the internet, Mrs Patterson?’
‘Everything,’ she said simply. ‘I mean, for an old lady on her own like me, it’s a doorway to a whole new exciting life. Last week I spent a morning looking around a new exhibition in a fancy gallery in London, just by clicking my mouse, then I spent an afternoon gazing at a beach in Australia—amazing webcam, by the way, you should try it. Last month I spent an entire week in Florence—I visited somewhere new every day. But it’s not just travel and art, it’s food, conversation. I just love chat rooms.’ She leaned forward and winked at him. ‘I bet you didn’t know there was a chat room for the over-eighties.’
Conner started to laugh. ‘No, Mrs Patterson. I didn’t know that. Do you party?’
‘Like you wouldn’t believe.’ Her smile faded. ‘But these eyes of mine…’
‘Yes.’ He shook his head and stood up. ‘All right, let’s take a look, although why I would want to fix your problem just so that you can spy on me, I don’t know. It’s probably dry-eye syndrome. You’re spending too long on the computer. And that’s something I’ve never had to say to an eighty-six-year-old before.’
‘So, which young lady’s heart are you breaking at the moment, you bad boy?’
Conner stilled, thinking of Flora. ‘No one. I’m being boringly good.’
‘You mean you don’t want to tell me.’ Agatha gave him a conspiratorial wink. ‘That’s good. When you care about a girl’s reputation, it means it’s serious.’
Conner stared at her. Serious? ‘Trust me, Agatha, it isn’t serious.’
‘Ah—so there is someone.’
Realising that he’d just been outmanoeuvred by an eighty-six-year-old woman, Conner gave a silent laugh and examined her eyes, trying not to remember how Flora had looked when he’d said that she didn’t turn him on.
Why on earth had she believed him?
Hadn’t she seen that his words and his body had contradicted each other?
Apparently not, which just proved how naïve she was.
