by Karen King
Jonathan smiled at Hattie. ‘I’m presuming you’re Hattie?’
She nodded. ‘My uncle left his cottage – Fisherman’s Rest – to me and my dad when he died recently. It’s one of the old fishermen’s cottages around the corner from the harbour. We want to sell it, but it does need tidying up a bit. Well, quite a lot, actually.’
She could see the interest on his face ‘I’d be delighted to take a look. There’s a lot of call for those cottages. Do sit down, all of you, while I take down some details.’
Hattie sat in the chair opposite him, whilst Mali sat next to her, pulling Lou onto her lap.
‘Would you like another chair for your little girl?’ Jonathan asked.
‘No, thank you, she’s fine,’ Mali assured him.
‘How about a drink? Would you like some coffee? Tea? Juice for the little girl?’
Hattie shook her head before Mali could reply. ‘We’re fine, thank you. We’ve just had a drink.’
‘Then let’s get on with business, shall we?’ Jonathan flashed a mega-watt smile at Hattie and produced a form. ‘Can we start with your name and telephone number, please?’
Half an hour later, Jonathan had all the details and had promised to visit Fisherman’s Rest that afternoon at about two o’clock to do a valuation, as he was doing one on a house around the corner. ‘We’ll need your father’s permission, of course, to put it on the market, but I can email him a form to sign. Once a sale has been agreed he will have to come over to sign the papers, though.’
‘That won’t be a problem,’ Hattie told him. She and her dad had discussed this and he’d promised to come over as soon as he could get away, and hopefully help Hattie sort out any work that needed to be done.
Jonathan seemed excited to have the cottage on his books, assuring Hattie that there would be no problem selling it, no matter what the condition. ‘We have a waiting list of buyers for these cottages. They make ideal holiday lets,’ he told her.
Hattie felt a bit sad that the cottage Uncle Albert had lived in for most of his life would be inhabited by a succession of holidaymakers instead of being a much-loved home. Don’t be silly, she told herself, it’s good that so many people will get to enjoy the cottage.
‘Well, that’s what I call a success! He was almost snatching your hand off. I bet you won’t have to do much to the cottage at all,’ Mali said. ‘It sounds like it will be snapped up. What are your plans once it’s sold? Where are you going to live? Will you be moving back to Bristol?’
‘I’ve no idea.’ Hattie hadn’t thought any further ahead than coming down to Cornwall for the summer. ‘I guess I will.’
‘Well, you can come and stay with us while you’re looking for somewhere. You know that.’
She did know that; Mali was her lifeline. And Hattie was hers. ‘Thank you.’
‘I want to see the boats,’ Lou said, tugging at her mother’s hand.
‘Okay, Sunshine, we’ll take a walk down by the harbour, and maybe stop for an ice cream. Is that okay with you, Hattie?’
‘Sure.’ Hattie loved walking along by the harbour. ‘Mind the seagulls, though, they’ll swoop down and snatch the ice cream out of your hands if you aren’t careful.’
‘No, they won’t. I’ll shoo them away if they do,’ Lou said determinedly.
Hattie grinned. ‘She’s just like you,’ she told Mali.
Mali shook her head. ‘No, she’s going to be stronger than me. There’s a couple of seagulls I should have shooed away sooner!’
Hattie grinned, knowing that Mali was referring to a couple of bad relationships she’d had. ‘It’s all good now, though. Right?’
‘You bet it is.’ Mali’s face broke into a smile as she looked at Lou, who was now peering over the railings at the boats in the harbour, fascinated. ‘This is such a gorgeous place, Hattie. You’re so lucky to have been left the cottage – well, part of it, anyway. I reckon it will sell in no time. Shame, really, me and Lou could have had some nice holidays down here.’
Port Medden was beautiful, Hattie thought as she looked out over the picturesque harbour with its strip of golden sand. The sun had come out now and the morning chill was lifting. She glanced over at the row of shops opposite the harbour: gift shops, surf-wear, pottery, an artist’s gallery and the little café. Soon, the streets would be teeming with holidaymakers, as they had been when she’d come down for holidays with her parents. She had loved the weeks she’d spent here, and often thought how lucky her uncle was to live in such a beautiful place.
It’s bound to take a few months to sell the cottage, she thought, so I’m going to make the most of the time I’m here. I’m going to use this summer to relax, build up my photography business and sort out my life.
‘Mummy, there’s the ice cream shop!’ Lou shouted, running back to her mother and then pointing over the road to a shop with an ice-cream-cornet-shaped sign. ‘Can I have one, please?’
‘Sure you can.’ Mali took hold of her hand. ‘Let’s go and see what flavour you want today.’
Marcus pushed open the gate and paused as he heard a man’s voice in next door’s back yard.
‘I think I can safely say that this place will be sold by the time summer is over, Hattie.’
He recognised that voice – it was Jonathan from the estate agent’s. Hattie couldn’t wait to get rid of the place, could she? He felt a surge of disappointment, then reminded himself what Mali had told him, that she had lost her home and her job. And she only had a share in the house, so the decision wasn’t completely hers.
‘Are you sure I shouldn’t do it up first? Give the walls a coat of paint at least?’
‘You could give it a general tidy round and declutter a bit but there’s no need to redecorate. Whoever buys this place will want to put their own stamp on it. As I said, it will probably be used as a holiday let and that could go two ways, either the new owners will want to keep everything as traditional as possible, or they’ll want to strip it out and modernise it. You don’t want to alienate either buyer, so best to leave it as it is as much as possible and give them the option.’
Holiday let. Marcus was seething with anger. Now he would have to put up with people coming and going at all hours of the night, and so would poor Winnie in Primrose Cottage. What a shock the news would be for her when she came back from visiting her sister. What did Hattie and her father care, though, as long as they got their money?
‘Well, that’s a relief. I thought I’d have to do a lot of work to it before we could put it on the market.’ Hattie sounded pleased. ‘I’ll talk to my dad tonight and tell him that you’re emailing the consent form to him. Will you be sending a photographer?’
‘Yes, I can send one tomorrow, if that’s okay with you. If your father agrees, I can get the cottage on the market by the end of the week. No need to put a “For Sale” sign up, as I said, I have a list of prospective buyers so let’s go with them first.’
Marcus walked over to the wall. ‘Remember to tell them the difference in sale price if they sell the house in the state it’s in rather than do it up first.
Jonathan spun around. ‘Ah, Marcus. Good to see you again.’ The look Jonathan threw him suggested that he wasn’t happy to see him at all. There hadn’t been any love lost between them since Jonathan had pulled a couple of sneaky stunts to try and persuade Winnie to sell her house, pretending it was in more of a state of disrepair than it was. Fortunately, Marcus had got wind of it and had managed to sort the work out for her at a reasonable price meaning she didn’t need to sell.
Hattie looked over at him, her expression worried. ‘Will there be that much difference in price?’ she asked.
‘At least twenty-five thousand, I’d say. Whereas you could do it up for about five,’ Marcus told her.
‘Well, I’m not sure that’s accurate . . .’
‘But it will be a significant drop?’ Hattie asked.
‘Obviously, the selling price will reflect the work the potential buyers will need to do on t
he property, but I thought you wanted a quick sale? And do you really want to do all that work?
Hattie looked hesitant. ‘I’ll have to talk to my dad. He wants to sell quickly so I’m not sure which action he’d prefer to take.’
‘That’s fine. I’ll email you the form and a quote later and then you can talk it over with your father and let me know.’
‘Thanks so much, Jonathan. You’ve been really helpful.’
Marcus watched as Jonathan reached out and touched her arm. ‘It’s my pleasure. Now, if you have any questions at all, please contact me. Any time.’
‘I will. Thanks again.’
He turned to Marcus, who was still standing by the wall. ‘And do let me know if you ever intend to sell your property. I can give you an excellent deal.’
‘That will never happen,’ Marcus told him. Then he went inside before he said anything he regretted. Hattie had every right to sell the cottage but he wished she hadn’t gone to Jonathan, who was always interested in buying up properties for holiday lets. More and more cottages were being sold for holiday rentals, or as second homes, and it was ruining the economy in Port Medden and other Cornish towns. Once summer was over, many of the towns and villages were dead, with hardly any shops open. Port Medden wasn’t like that yet, thank goodness; although it was quieter in the winter, there was still a strong community, but townies like Hattie didn’t help.
‘What did I tell you?’ Mali said after Jonathan had gone. ‘Do you want me to make a start on the decluttering and painting while I’m here? I can help.’
It was tempting – the thought of sorting through all of Uncle Albert’s stuff was overwhelming – but she wanted Mali and Lou to have a holiday, not spend the few days of their break working. ‘Thanks but no. I’ll do it after the wedding on Saturday. I’ll need something to keep me busy. And I need to talk to dad, too. That’s a lot of money to lose.’
It was tempting to sell the cottage as it was. Jonathan seemed to think he could do it within weeks, which meant she’d be out of here by the end of the summer and could start planning a new life for herself.
Yet, somehow, even though she had only been here a couple of days, she had started to love Port Medden and the people in it. Part of her didn’t want to move.
Chapter Thirteen
‘It’s a lot of money to lose, Hattie and ideally I’d prefer to do the place up and get the extra twenty-five grand or so, but I don’t have the time or the money to do that. I need to put the cottage on the market as soon as possible. Let’s stick to our original plan and just give it a quick tidy up,’ her father told her. He’d sent her a message asking to speak to her while she’d been at the beach with Mali and Lou later that afternoon, so Hattie had left them making a big sandcastle and called him.
Surely he could hang on a bit whilst she gave the downstairs a coat of paint, at least. ‘Just give me a couple of weeks to see what I can do,’ Hattie told him. ‘I can use my redundancy money, it’ll be through soon. You could pay me back out of the sale of the house.’
‘That would take us to almost the end of June.’ Her father hesitated. ‘Okay, I can hold off that long if it means a quicker sale. Don’t do too much though, just cosmetic stuff. And just paint the walls white, that’s more appealing to buyers.’
‘That’s what Jonathan said, but I’d like to put a new bathroom suite in too, that bath is cracked, and maybe a new carpet in the lounge. It’s worth it to get a bit extra money, surely?’
‘As long as it isn’t too much work for you. I know how cluttered that cottage is. I wish I could come over and help you but I can’t spare the time right now. I feel terrible leaving all this to you.’
‘It’s fine, honestly. It’s helped me out of a corner being here, and I am living rent free,’ she reminded him. ‘There is one thing, though.’
‘Go on . . .’ Owen said, obviously noticing the hesitation in her voice.
‘Well, I would really like to sell Fisherman’s Rest to a family rather than someone wanting to let it out as a holiday rental. Uncle Albert loved this cottage, and it would be lovely to think a family was enjoying his home.’ She’d been thinking about that last night, ever since Jonathan had told her he had lots of clients waiting to snap up the old fishermen’s cottages to turn into holiday homes. She had no objection to holidaymakers, she’d loved her own holidays down in Port Medden, but this cottage had character, and she wanted to retain that, not have it gutted for a holiday home.
‘So would I, love, but we can’t afford to be choosy. We need to go for the highest bidder. We don’t want this dragging on through the winter. Besides, you need to sort yourself out somewhere to permanently to live and a job, don’t you?’
‘Yes I do but it’s only the beginning of June, there will be lots of interest in the summer months, surely? And I don’t mind staying here for the summer and sorting it all out.’ Actually, she was looking forward to it.
She heard her father draw in his breath. ‘Look, I’ve got to be upfront with you, love. We needed urgent repairs done to the B&B in time for our summer guests,’ he told her. ‘So, as soon as I heard Albert had left us the cottage, I took out a short-term loan for six months at a good rate, but if I go over that time the interest rates go up drastically. I really need to have the money from the cottage within the next three months, otherwise me and Raina could lose this place. We’re just about breaking even.’
She had never considered her dad short of money. It had seemed to her that he’d walked out on them, hopped on a ferry, and started a fantastic new life. She’d never been to the B&B; he and Raina had bought that after they’d got married a few years later, but it sounded idyllic.
‘What if Uncle Albert hadn’t died and left us the cottage, what would you have done then?’ she asked.
She could hear his sigh down the phone. ‘We’d have had to sell up, Hattie. We’d already prepared ourselves for that.’
She was silent. Had things really been that bad? Perhaps her dad’s life wasn’t as charmed as they all thought.
‘What about you? What would you have done?’ he asked.
‘Moved in with Mali, I guess, until I could sort myself out,’ she replied. She was being selfish, and just looking for an excuse to stay longer she realised. The cottage provided her with a much-need home and chance to have a go at setting up her photography business. Well, it belonged to her dad too, and he needed the money. Even so, they couldn’t afford to turn down a few extra grand for the sake of a bit of work.
‘I promise that I’ll have the house on the market by the middle of June. I’ll start tidying up as soon as Mali and Lou go home,’ she told him. ‘And we’ll accept the highest bid.’
‘Thanks, love.’ They discussed the cottage a bit more, then Owen asked, ‘What about Buddy? What will you do with him?’ He’d been surprised when Hattie had told him about Uncle Albert’s parrot still being alive and in residence. Hattie hadn’t told him about the problems she’d had with Buddy, and actually, the parrot had livened up since Mali and Lou had arrived and was eating fine now.
‘I’ll take him with me. I’d like to keep him, for Uncle Albert’s sake.’
‘If you’re sure.’ There was a pause on the other end of the phone. ‘And Hattie . . .’
‘Yes?’
‘You can always come here for a few months when the cottage is sold, if you want to. There’s plenty of room at the B&B in the winter months and, if you like it, well, property is cheaper here than in the UK. It might be a fresh start for you.’
His offer stunned her. She had never thought of moving over to France, or to Portugal, where her mother and Howard lived, although her mother hadn’t asked her to. It was lovely of him to offer. ‘Thanks, Dad. I really don’t know what I want to do yet. I need a couple of weeks to sort out my head. But thank you, I do appreciate it.’
‘You’re my daughter and I love you. I know we’ve got a bit estranged, but I’d like to put that right. So you’re welcome, any time, and for as long as you
want.’
Hattie was really taken aback. After they’d finished talking she sat, hugging her knees, deep in thought. There seemed so many directions her life could take and she didn’t know which one to choose.
‘What’s up?’ Mali plonked down on the sand beside her. The sandcastle was finished now and Lou was carrying buckets of water from the sea to fill up the moat they’d dug all around it.
‘Dad’s just offered me a room at his place until I get sorted out when the cottage is sold,’ she told her.
‘Wow! That’s great. Do you think you’ll go?’
Hattie shook her head. ‘I doubt it, but I’m gobsmacked he offered, and even more gobsmacked that I’m considering it.’
‘You know, I think your Uncle Albert knew what he was doing leaving his cottage to you both. This is the most you two have talked to each other for years. I reckon he wanted to bring you together.’
‘Mum! The handle’s broken on my bucket!’ Lou shouted.
‘Back in a mo!’ Mali got to her feet and went over to help her daughter.
Hattie thought over her friend’s words. Even if Uncle Albert hadn’t intended it, it’s what was happening. She was seeing her father in a new light, and he seemed to be doing the same with her. Perhaps he regretted the lost years as much as she did. Was it too late for them both to reconnect?
Chapter Fourteen
Hattie phoned Jonathan the next morning and told him what she and her father had decided. ‘I’ll need a couple of weeks to tidy up the cottage and paint the walls, so can we say you’ll send a photographer around a week on Monday and have the cottage on the market by the end of that week?’ she said.
‘Don’t go to a lot of effort. I’ve got buyers waiting who don’t care what condition the cottage is in. We could sell it exactly as it is, you can declutter while the sale is going through,’ Jonathan sounded disappointed. And a bit pushy.
‘I know, but we don’t want to throw a considerable sum of money away just for the sake of a bit of hard work and TLC,’ she told him firmly.
