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‘Nothing.’ She didn’t want to get into the fact that she owned the lighthouse and legally had a right to access the property. She was ignoring the fact, though, that she should only be there for a mutually agreed appointment – not like this. She reluctantly followed Carys out of the door, leaving her sleeping King Charles Spaniel on the sofa.
‘Come on!’ Carys took her hand and pulled her toward the stairs.
Abigail looked at her heels. ‘You’ll never make it up those metal steps in those. Here, why don’t you borrow a pair of my trainers.’ Abigail passed her a pair from the shoe rack by the door – the pair she’d always worn in the gym that she attended what felt like a lifetime ago. It reminded her that she had a gym membership to cancel if she decided she wasn’t returning to London. Unlike the tenancy on the rental flat in London, which she didn’t have to do anything about; she had two months left on the lease. If she didn’t intend to renew, she’d simply hand over the keys.
She watched Carys slip on the trainers and step outside. Abigail put on a pair of flat shoes and followed her across the gravel driveway. Carys was already walking up the metal stairs, holding her phone up. When she reached the top, she shouted out, ‘I’ve got reception!’
Abigail winced, wishing she’d pipe down. ‘What is so urgent that you need to make a call now?’ Abigail asked, making her way towards her.
Carys looked at her. ‘Can’t you guess? I want to phone Oliver and tell him about the home movie.’
Oh, god,Abigail thought. It was the last thing she needed, Oliver coming over. ‘Look, it’s no big deal.’
‘Oh, but it is. What if he is, was, a long-lost relative? There could be other family members we don’t know about. It’s so exciting, isn’t it? We should like start researching our genealogy. Do a family tree.’
Abigail stared at her and thought about Albert’s warning to let sleeping dogs lie.
‘Oliver, it’s Sis … I’m at the cottage. Daphne’s cottage, of course. I went to see Abigail.’
Abigail took a deep breath, wondering what he was saying on the end of the phone.
‘Yes, she’s back.’ Carys grinned at Abigail. ‘No, I don’t think she’s leaving again.’
Abigail could feel her face going bright crimson at the thought that he’d asked after her.
Abigail mouthed, ‘You are staying, aren’t you?’
Before she had a chance to respond, Carys said down the phone, ‘Look, can you come over …?’
Abigail looked at Carys and vehemently shook her head.
Carys turned away from Abigail. ‘Yes, now. It’s important … something has happened. No, no, Abigail is okay. Look, I don’t want to go into it over the phone. Just come.’ She glanced over her shoulder at Abigail and grinned. ‘Of course she wants you to come. Yes, even after what you said …’
Abigail put her hands on her hips. Now Carys was telling fibs. She hadn’t even asked her first.
Abigail bit her lower lip. It sounded as though he regretted what he’d said to her in a fit of temper when he found out she’d inherited his aunt’s cottage.
Suddenly, the door flew open.
Carys said, ‘Gotta go, but do come now.’
‘Get off my property!’ Albert bellowed.
‘Yourproperty?’ Abigail blurted. She expected him to answer back, but the look on his face said he knew exactly what she meant; even though he had rights as a tenant, and this was his home, she still owned it. He turned on his heel and slammed the door shut.
‘Well, that got rid of him,’ said Carys, starting down the stairs. She looked at Abigail quizzically, wondering what the exchange had been about. She decided not to ask. The look on Abigail’s face said that she had other things on her mind. Carys wondered if she was thinking about Oliver.
Abigail followed her. They were both greeted by Ulysses, who was standing in the open doorway of the cottage. ‘Good boy!’ Abigail said as he followed them inside. She sat on the sofa, thinking of Oliver turning up soon, her stomach doing somersaults at the thought of seeing him again.
