Gil looks mildly surprised that I’m interested. ‘Do you want to see?’
‘Yeah, sure.’ This wasn’t what I was thinking of when I was searching for something to fill my afternoon, but it beats staring at the pattern on my duvet cover.
He takes me back to the other room, which he says is going to be another bedroom. The locked door turns out to lead out to the wet dock next to the jetty. He then leads me upstairs to show me another of the rooms in the main block, which will also be a bedroom. This one is just about finished, even if it looks a little spartan. There is oak flooring, and one wall is covered in blocks of natural stone, similar to the exterior of the house, and the others are painted white.
I’m so used to opening doors and looking inside rooms by that point that I just move to the next one along the corridor, only hearing Gil say something as I turn the handle and push the door open. Inside, there is yet more of the ugly orange carpet, along with an old-fashioned camp bed, the kind that’s basically a canvas stretcher with metal feet, a sleeping bag, a few suitcases, a dining chair and an old kitchen table housing a fancy computer set-up. Apart from the high tech, it looks like someone is camping out there.
Gil reaches past me to close the door again. ‘That’s, um …’
The penny drops. ‘This isyourroom?’
He’s heading away from me, back into the main living space.
‘Yes. For now.’
I trot behind him. ‘But why are you …? Oh!’ He walks over to the kettle and fills it from the tap. I put my hand on his arm and he freezes for a couple of seconds, then turns his head to look at me. ‘You gave me your room,’ I say. ‘And you moved into …’I put my hand over my mouth. ‘Oh, Gil … I had no idea!’ And what’s even worse than my obliviousness is that it hadn’t even occurred to me to ask that question.
‘No need to apologize. It was my choice.’
I open my mouth to offer to switch rooms and the look on his face stops me.
‘Don’t,’ he warns me. ‘You’re staying put.’
‘But I … I …’
‘It’s non-negotiable, Erin. Besides, I’ve got a king-size bed and some furniture arriving for the other room up here in a couple of days. I’m going to move my stuff in there when it’s all set up.’
‘But—’
‘No.’
We stare at each other, and I realize maybe one of the reasons we have clashed so much in the past is because we’re both stubborn old goats. ‘Well, maybe I can help in some other way.’
‘You’re supposed to be resting.’
‘I know, but I feel like I’m getting some of my energy back. I think it would be good for me to have something to do.’ I flash him a winning smile. ‘I’m a whizz with a drill …’
His expression doesn’t change; he’s not buying it. ‘Simon warned me you might try to do too much. And I’m declaring DIY as officially “too much”.’
Gil gets two mugs out of the cupboard, makes the tea and hands one to me.
‘How about painting?’ I say, thinking of the stark white walls of the just-about-finished room. ‘I’ve always found that kind of soothing.’
His eyes narrow slightly. I can tell he’s chewing it over. ‘I’ll let you choose the paint,’he says. ‘You’ve always been good with colours and shapes.’
I ignore the compliment and choose offence instead. ‘You’ll “let” me?’
‘It’s my house. What I say goes.’ His jaw is set, but I see a glimmer of humour in his eyes. The bastard is enjoying this. I should choose a shade of orange to match the ugly carpet he’s trying to get rid of. Then he’d regret giving me that job.
But then I realize choosing paint colours might mean a trip to a DIY store, and although I’ve been happy not to stray too far from the boathouse in the last few weeks, I’m suddenly excited at the thought of going somewhere new.
Even though I’m irritated with him for being his usual condescending self, I eventually sigh and then say, ‘Okay. You’ve got a deal.’
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Present Day
A couple of days later, Gil and I head into Dartmouth to check out paint colours for the back bedroom. I’ve always loved this town, with its narrow cobbled streets and ancient buildings, some dating back as far as Tudor times. Around every corner is a fascinating piece of history.
