‘I don’t care how good a singer he is, if he’s pestering you, I can have him barred.’ Paddy had taken on the role of surrogate father in the time Bella had worked at the pub, and when customers, usually tourists, got a little too friendly, Bella was glad of his imposing presence behind the bar. But Jason fell into the flirtatious but harmless category, and his set brought in a few extra punters each week.
‘It’s fine, Paddy. Jason’s all right.’
‘Well, you let me know if he’s not.’
Bella smiled again. She was very fond of Jen and Paddy, who’d run the Star and Telescope for the past five years. Her distant relationship with her own parents, who’d never forgiven her for her decision to pursue a music career over getting what they’d referred to as ‘qualifications and a sensible job’, was nothing to write home about these days, and so their benevolent eyes on her were very welcome when she felt she needed a bit of advice. The same went for Mollie, who felt like the grandparent she’d never had.
Careful, she thought as she mulled all this over while performing closing out duty in the bar.You sound like you’re actually planning on sticking around here!She had to keep reminding herself that Jack’s cottage was temporary, and eventually she would need to get somewhere else sorted. But, for the time being, while the summer evenings were sweet with the scent of honeysuckle and the stars above gradually appeared in the velvet night sky, it was tempting to forget that.
Walking back through the village after closing time, she wondered how Monty’s evening had been. After forty-eight hours of house arrest in the cottage, he was beginning to climb the walls, not to mention the curtains, and Bella knew he was desperate to get outside. She wondered if she could get away with unlocking the cat flap again, since he already knew where his home was.
As she approached the cottage, she felt a flicker of unease, as if someone or something was watching her. Shrugging it off, she continued, opening the garden gate and heading up the garden path to the front door. Plenty of foxes and badgers roamed the village at night, and it was probably just one of those in search of a late-night snack.
A rustling from the overgrown lawn to the left of the garden path made her jump. Much like the back garden, the grass had returned to meadow in the months since the house had been unoccupied, and as Bella turned her head sharply to see what was making the noise, fearful that it might be a rat, she saw first one paw, then another, then a spotty head and body emerging like a miniature leopard.
‘Monty! How did you get out here?’ Bella bent down and stroked him from nose to tail, and his tail rose and curled around her hand in greeting. As he head-bumped her hand, he let out a smug-sounding yowl.
Then, Bella noticed the bedroom window, which she’d left open after she’d showered between jobs today and obviously forgotten to close. Monty must have scrambled up and then jumped from the window to the apple tree and gained his freedom.
‘You old bugger,’ she murmured. ‘There’s life in the old mog yet.’ And that, it seemed, was Monty’s answer to whether or not he should be granted the freedom of the garden again.
‘Come on, then,’ Bella said, smiling down at the cat. ‘I think the least you deserve is a Dreamie or two, since you went to all that effort.’
Monty chirped in approval and padded after her into the house.
37
Bella was kept so busy for the rest of the week that she didn’t get the chance to dwell much on the slightly weird tension between Noah and herself, and where they’d almost taken things on Sunday. The electrician had been working in the cottage all week, and Bella had let him and his co-worker in every morning. There’d been a hairy moment when the trip switch had flipped on the kitchen sockets late one night, but for the most part, the intrusion had been minimal because she was out at work so much.
By the time she could draw breath and had a quieter moment, it was Thursday. After seeing the last of the kittens from the Observatory Field litter off to their new homes and preparing Monty’s old pen for a bonded pair of brothers who’d been brought in because of a house move that meant they couldn’t be kept by their previous owners, she had plenty to occupy her. As she settled the pair, a ginger tom and a black and white, into the space, she hoped against hope they’d be able to find a new home. They had their age against them – they were four years old – which meant they were well past the cute kitten stage, and as a pair, that ruled out a lot of options. People were prepared to take a single cat, but often they drew the line at two, however adorable they were.
‘Oh, look at you.’ Bella smiled. Still slightly shell-shocked from being brought in, the ginger, Marco, was grooming the white chest of his brother, Polo. Polo had begun a guarded purr, which, as Bella stopped to listen, became a duet once Marco felt secure enough to relax. She was tempted to reach out a hand and stroke them but thought it was better to keep her distance while they settled into their new, and hopefully temporary home. Cuddles could come later.
Late afternoon on Thursday, she was retrieving the bedding she’d taken from the kittens’ pen from the washing machine, when Mollie popped her head around the door of the utility room. From the look on her face, Bella immediately knew that something was wrong. She put the blankets and bed down on top of the washer.
‘What is it, Moll? Do we need to get Ellie in for one of the new inmates?’
Mollie shook her head. ‘No, thank goodness, they’re all fine so far.’ She was clutching an official-looking letter in her left hand, and as Bella looked at her, she could see that Mollie was struggling to keep her composure.
‘Tell me what’s happened, Mollie, please.’
Mollie said nothing but handed over the letter.
Bella read in silence, and her stomach slid to the floor.
‘What? Can he do that?’ She blinked, read the letter again, and had to resist the urge to crumple it up and chuck it out of the window in frustration. It was from Mollie’s landlord, the businessman who owned the building that housed the Purrfect Paws charity shop, informing Mollie that, although still substantially discounted, the rent and business rates on the shop were going to have to rise.
Mollie nodded. ‘He can, and he has.’
‘Without notice?’
Mollie shook her head. ‘He warned me six months ago that this could be down the line. I hoped we’d be able to work something out, but with the costs rising and rising, both for this place and the charity shop, we don’t have the funds.’
‘But surely you can negotiate? That seems like an awful lot to have to find.’
‘It is.’
Bella handed Mollie back the letter. ‘What are you going to do, Moll?’
