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“I was just…” He presses his mouth closed for a moment then says, “Hemingway. Don’t trust him.”
It stops me dead in the middle of the lane. Putting the shopping back on the ground, I look him in the eye. “Why not? How well do you know him?”
Hal, like me, is a relative newcomer and from what I’ve seen, he keeps himself to himself. How could he possibly have become an object of suspicion?
“We were at school together,” Myles says. “He was older, of course, but I remember him. Just…” Again, a slight hesitation. “It’s not a good idea to let him into your house.” And he turns and walks the other way.
That’s it? That’s all he’s going to tell me?
There are a few things I never take seriously, pop-up ads on social media, emails telling me I’ve won thousands of pounds for no reason, and negative gossip. Yet, Myles has never shown himself to be a gossip, or unkind in anyway. So far, he’s only been a very good friend.
Hal too has surely proved himself yesterday, hasn’t he?
I do have a history of reading men wrong, though. Case in point, Andrew. With his clumsy communication skills, I would have never suspected him of lying to me so smoothly or of being capable of attracting someone else’s fiancée. So, am I too trusting?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hal
There’s no need for me to go back today. By any measure, my neighbourly good deed is more than done. No one would expect me to spend another twelve hours away from my own building work to help someone else. Especially when that someone else is the granddaughter of Hedge LeFevre. So, why am I here outside her front door at nine in the morning waiting for her to come back from the village?
Answer: because I’m trying to be a different kind of man.
For a start, Pierre and Gabriel, two people who barely know her, are here too, giving up their weekend to help someone who desperately needs a hand. Anyone can see she has no chance of getting her shop ready in time.
But that’s not enough reason; I’m much more selfish than that. So, again, why am I here?
Answer: I don’t really know.
I enjoyed working with Gabriel and I find Pierre fascinating. Elodie is an unusual woman, shy and proud at the same time. There’s a fierce independence there; the more desperate her situation, the less comfortable she is accepting help. Thinking she could create a shop in a weekend, armed with little more than a sheet of sandpaper is even crazier than her food recipes.
Yet, it somehow works. Her vision for the shop, just like pork sausages with honey. She pulls me to be part of this tiny experiment that on paper is a sure loser. I want to see how she can make it succeed.
Whether this is logical or not, here I am, sitting on the garden wall with Gabriel drinking coffee I made in my kitchen while we wait for Elodie to come back.
“Where is your kitchen?” Gabriel raises the mug with the coffee and the last of my cream.
“In a rented camping pod at the back.” I point towards the back garden.
“I was wondering how you could sleep inside the house with half its walls down and no roof,” he says.
“I’m not that suicidal. And you can buy prefab camping pods for as little as £3000.”
“Is it comfortable?” Pierre asks.
“As long as you don’t mind sliding out of the foot of the bed, and keeping your elbows tucked into your sides while showering. It has what I need in the short term, a roof to keep the rain off, which is more than I can say for half the rooms in my house.”
She finishes her coffee then goes inside to say hello to Hedge.
We watch her go then I ask Gabriel. “Your girlfriend likes him, doesn’t she?” Hedge LeFevre might have become a nicer man than he used to be, or at the very least an older and quieter one.
“Pierre’s not my girlfriend.”
Oops! How did I get this wrong? Their behaviour, everything pointed to a close, very close romance. “I’m sorry, I thought—”
“Well…” he says, his face colouring. “Not for much longer, I hope.” And there is no mistaking his meaning.
“Congratulations.” I shake his hand. I’m genuinely pleased for them, after only half a day in their company, it’s clear they’re made for each other.
