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‘Exactly. I’d go and ask him, but he doesn’t sound that approachable.’
‘Believe me, he’s not.’
Abigail disappeared inside the cottage. She emerged five minutes later with the will. She’d just got it out of the envelope, scanning the sheets for mention of the wooden structure, when her neighbour flew out of the lighthouse next door. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
Gerald stepped between him and Abigail. ‘Now, just hold on for one moment. We apologise if this is yours, but—’
‘It isn’t,’ Abigail said forthrightly, lifting her eyes from the page. ‘It’s mine.’ Abigail didn’t know what was under the tarpaulin, but according to the solicitor and the legal documents of Toby’s will, the structure and its contents now belonged to her.
The old man turned on his heel, walked back to the lighthouse and slammed the door behind him.
‘I feel like giving him a piece of my mind.’
‘Please don’t. It will only make things worse.’ Abigail didn’t add that her stepdad wasn’t the confrontational type; he’d be far too polite, anyway.
Gerald stared after him. ‘What is his problem?’
Abigail sighed. ‘He has never liked people staying in the cottage.’
‘Well, he’d better get used to it, because the cottage has a new owner now, and you’re here to stay.’
When Abigail didn’t respond, he turned around and looked at her. ‘Aren’t you?’
The sound of a car approaching saved her from an awkward conversation. It turned into the gravel driveway.
‘Is that your friend, Lili?’
Abigail shook her head. It wasn’t Lili’s van from The Potting Shed. ‘Oh, it’s Joss.’
‘Joss?’
‘He’s that old man’s nephew.’ Abigail pointed at the lighthouse. ‘He was staying with him for a bit, but things didn’t work out.’
‘Why am I not surprised?’ Gerald replied, rolling his eyes toward the lighthouse.
Joss parked the car next to Gerald’s.
The last time Abigail had seen him, he’d set off on a motorbike. ‘Nice car. What happened to your bike?’
‘Ah, my motorbike broke down. I’m trying to fix it. The car isn’t mine, by the way. I borrowed it from Ray.’
Gerald stepped forward. ‘You know Ray, the heir-hunter?’
‘This is my stepdad, Gerald,’ Abigail explained.
Joss held out a hand. ‘Nice to meet you. Yes, I know Ray. He is a friend of my uncle.’
Abigail couldn’t imagine that the miserable old man had any friends.
‘I’m staying in the spare room on his houseboat at the moment. I came down here to keep an eye on my uncle for a bit. He says he doesn’t need any help, or anybody keeping an eye on him. My mum, that’s his sister, insisted. I feel bad, but I just had to leave. Actually, he kicked me out. He’s being difficult. He doesn’t want me here.’
Abigail nodded her head. She knew how that felt.
Joss held up the shopping bags. ‘I’d better pop these in. Don’t be surprised if you hear a raised voice. I imagine he’s going to tell me to clear off for doing his shopping.’
Abigail frowned at the shopping bags, blurting, ‘I’m sure he’s quite capable of shopping himself.’ He didn’t look that old, perhaps in his mid-seventies.
‘Yeah, he is. But since …’ Joss glanced at the cottage. ‘He’s just not taking care of himself, not eating, so I’m coming over making sure he’s had three square meals a day, just until he gets back on his feet.’
