They set off across the quadrangle and turned left down a small, gravelled track.
‘This is the best cottage, I think, because you’re away on your own and you’ve got a fabulous view of the sea. And you’ve only got to share it with one other, although the mammy said she’d missed her ferry or something. She’s coming from Liverpool.’
Hannah grimaced. There was nothing worse than missing transport or being late. That would be her worst nightmare.
They picked their way down the path, Fergus hefting her huge wheeled suitcase over the ruts and pits of the track with ease.
With its golden-yellow painted walls, Marigold Cottage looked like a burst of sunshine, tucked as it was into the rolling green hillside.
‘Oh it’s so pretty.’
‘Mm, most people think so,’ said Fergus with a non-committal shrug, clearly a young man who didn’t do pretty.
Hannah definitely thought so. It had a tiny porch with white-painted wooden trim, windows on either side of the front door, both up and down, and a dark tiled roof with a gentle pitch. Honeysuckle trailed up one side of the porch bushing out over its roof in a cloud of green and yellow. Window boxes filled the downstairs sills with a profusion of the cottage’s namesake in autumn ochre, sunshine yellow and bright orange, their heads bobbing in the breeze in welcome, and below them in wide semi-circular beds the jewel-bright coloured flowers of tall black-eyed Susans, bronze and gold coreopsis and deep-orange crocosmia. Hannah’s heart lifted at the picturesque sight. This place was more than pretty; it was gorgeous and offered the perfect spot to enjoy the sea view from the little patio set just in front of one of the windows.
Fergus led the way and unlocked the little wooden door.
‘Home sweet home.’
Eagerly, Hannah glanced round. The hallway was a generous size with a neat wooden staircase climbing upwards and on either side were sage-green wooden doors. The first led into a good-sized kitchen-diner with solid oak units arranged at one end. At the other end by the window was a round pine table on which sat a large glass jam jar filled with wild flowers and two pretty table settings of a cereal bowl, floral napkin and chunky green glass tumbler.
On the other side of the hallway was a sitting room containing a large L-shaped sofa in pale-grey linen which Hannah could guarantee would be perfect for sinking into at the end of a long day; opposite was an open fireplace with a small grate, already laid with kindling ready to be lit. Thank goodness for that. She’d never lit an open fire in her life and despite her thorough reading of theSwallows and Amazonsbooks, she wasn’t sure she actually knew how it was done.
The walls were wainscoted and painted in the same sage green and there was another vase of wild flowers tucked into what must have once been a window nook. The colour scheme felt restful and relaxing, and there were several pale green and cream cable-knit throws folded over the back of the sofa.
‘There are a few provisions in the fridge,’ said Fergus. ‘To keep you going. You don’t have to eat with everyone if you don’t want to. Some people like to have breakfast by themselves. It gets a bit intense being with everyone all day every day. Especially if you’ve got some aul fecker on the course.’ He stopped with a guilty expression. ‘You didn’t hear me say that. Everyone’s always grand.’ With a roll of his eyes, he grimaced. ‘Don’t tell anyone.’
‘I won’t.’ Hannah shot him a conspiratorial grin. ‘I’m sure everyone will be lovely.’ Although she had her doubts about Jason and Fliss.
She looked around again at the cosy little sitting room, imagining snuggling down on the sofa, tucked up in a throw with the fire burning, a good book, and a glass of something. She wondered if provisions included wine but at least she had her transport – she could go off and do her own shopping if need be.
‘I’ll take your bag upstairs. As you’re first here, you get first dibs on the bedroom. One has the en suite, the other, the main bathroom. The choice is yours.’
Upstairs, the two bedrooms faced each other over the small hallway. One had a large double bed, the other two singles. Hannah ummed and ahhed for a minute, her natural decency feeling that it wasn’t fair to choose when the poor woman had missed her ferry. Swings and roundabouts. The twin room had the en suite with a rather impressive shower with a magic button by the bathroom door which you could use to set the shower going before you even set foot in the room. Although she was taken with the idea of not having to wait for the shower to warm up, she also liked the light airy double room with its big wooden bed, plump pillows, and soft cotton-clad feather duvet. Perhaps if they got on well, her new housemate might let her use the shower occasionally.
‘If you just leave my case here, we’ll toss for it when the other lady gets here.’
Fergus stared at her with a touch of teenage scorn. ‘I’d have bagged the big bed.’
Hannah lifted her shoulders. ‘I have to live with her.’
He grinned. ‘Every man for himself.’
She laughed. ‘I’d rather live in harmony, thank you very much.’
‘You don’t come from a big family, do you?’
‘No,’ she acceded, thinking of her gentle aunt and uncle who had brought her up. Hannah often wondered what sort of childhood she’d have had if she and her sister had grown up with their real parents.
As soon as Fergus left, Hannah went down and wandered around her little domain, like a dog or a cat laying claim to new territory, feeling a little frisson of proprietorship as she opened drawers and cupboards in the kitchen. On a painted dresser there was a ceramic egg holder with half a dozen fresh eggs in varying shades of brown and pale cream, a domed glass cake stand with a couple of scones and slices of brownies, and a selection of rustic earthenware, pottery plates in the plate rack, and mugs hanging from hooks underneath. It really was quite perfect. She opened the compact under-the-counter fridge, finding to her delight a pat of greaseproof-wrapped butter – was it home-made? – as well as a bottle of white wine, some raspberries, small wedges of cheese and an earthenware dish of stuffed olives. In the bread bin beside the kettle was a large country loaf. Hannah’s stomach rumbled. Unable to resist, she carved herself a slice of bread, slathered on a generous helping of the pale-gold butter and added a few slices of the creamy cheese.
Munching happily, she took herself outside and sat at the little table and chairs, tipping her face up to the sunshine and listening to the birdsong and the distant shush of the sea. This was her idea of Heaven. For the first time since she’d set foot in Ireland, the nerves that had been fretting at the back of her mind eased. She’d done the right thing. This place was beautiful. She was going to make the most of her time and enjoy herself. How could she not? Izzy, Merry, and Alan all seemed very nice. Jason was just young and maybe Fliss was just as nervous and hiding it in a different way.
She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, smiling to herself. This was absolutely perfect.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ The voice came from nowhere and she sat up with a start, opening her eyes and squinting in the sunshine. She blinked and sat up, her head shooting up with sudden sharpness. It couldn’t be. Those blue eyes. The pirate’s stubble.Conor?Was she hallucinating? She had to be. But no, it was him, standing in front of her, his arms folded and glaring at her.
‘I might have known.’
