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‘What gave you that idea?’
‘It’s an idea I had ages ago and when I met Nessa she said guests would go mad for all the original features.’
‘Nessa’s been saying rather a lot, by the sound of it.’ Liam rubbed at his eyes. He’d hardly slept last night and tiredness was beginning to catch up with him. ‘So is Charles Epping going to reprieve Driftwood House and turn it into a guesthouse now?’
‘Not exactly. He’s thinking about it and I’ve got four weeks to make some changes and persuade him – or rather, his wife, who’s very posh and pretty scary.’
‘What sort of changes?’
‘I don’t know. A lick of paint, some repairs, a good tidy-up.’
It would take more than a good tidy-up to bring Driftwood House up to scratch and fit for paying guests. Liam frowned.
‘I can make a difference. I’m sure I can.’
‘And who’s going to make all these changes?’
‘I am.’
‘Who’s paying for them?’
‘I will. Paint and polish won’t cost too much, and I’ve got some savings.’
It was a crazy notion and she was wasting both her time and her money. Epping would sweep in at the end of her efforts and knock the damn house down anyway. But Liam’s retort telling her so died on his lips when he spotted Rosie’s clenched fists. She was trying very hard to hold things together.
Heartbreak and grief could make people go a little crazy – he was proof of that – but keeping busy helped. For months after Dee left, he’d worked from sunrise to sundown, with no time off at weekends. So maybe a project, even a hopeless one for a no-good cheat like Charles Epping, was just what Rosie needed right now.
‘Good luck with it, then,’ he told her.
She nodded. ‘Thanks. By the way, do you know someone around here whose name begins with J?’
Her random question took him by surprise, but he racked his brains. ‘There’s Jackson, you’ve met him. And Jimmy Collins in Field Lane. Or Joanna Johnson.’
‘Jimmy’s in his eighties, isn’t he?’
‘His nineties, I think. Why?’
‘Someone left flowers on mum’s grave and signed the card with a J. I’m just interested to know who J is. Maybe itisJackson.’
‘He was definitely at the funeral. He was really upset.’
‘Which is a bit strange.’
Liam frowned. ‘Not really. A lot of people get upset at funerals.’
‘Is Jackson married?’
‘I think so. Why?’
‘Sofia!’ suddenly boomed across the farmyard, and Liam cringed when he spotted his dad. He’d opened the front room window and was leaning out. ‘Sofia, I haven’t seen you for a while,’ he called. ‘Where have you been?’
‘I’m sorry,’ whispered Liam to Rosie. ‘Dad gets a bit confused these days and you do look a lot like your mum.’
Some people would take offence or burst into tears but Rosie simply gave a wobbly smile. ‘Hello, Mr Satterley. I’m Rosie, Sofia’s daughter. How are you keeping these days?’
‘Oh, can’t grumble, though I have to go to the dentist later today.’
‘That doesn’t sound great but it’s good to look after your teeth.’
