“Mr. Roberts, the estate manager, hopes to get a sale in the next few months,” Helen said. “He’s already had a lot of interest apparently.”
“Can’t you go live with your brother, or he and his family live here and you buy the place together?”
“We’ve already explored that option, but Tom and Emma already have a mortgage on their place. They’re very happy there. They’ve got a spare room but Lucy will need that soon. And the cottage needs a lot of work.” Helen sighed again, resting her head on her knees. “The roof needs doing properly. Some of the windows need replacing.”
Seb recalled Helen’s heated argument with Tom. Life would be a whole lot less stressful if she cut her losses and moved elsewhere. “What keeps you here?”
“It’s my home.”
Yeah, he could see how she fit here, among the wanton chaos and sprawling mess. “But why bust a gut keeping this place? You’re young, intelligent. Don’t you want to see what else is around? Don’t you want to explore?”
“No.” She gazed out at the rolling hills and billowing clouds, her hair catching in the breeze. “This is all I’ve ever wanted.”
Chapter 15
Helengruntedwithexertionas she shifted another paving block across the Get Living Center garden. She’d been laboring here all week, and had finally cleared the bramble roots ready for the builders to lay the patio. Brian, her supervisor, hovered close by and gave her a quick nod of …approval? It was hard to tell with him. Like death warmed up, he shuffled past her with a wheelbarrow, not saying anything. Helen went back to shifting paving blocks.
Thank god it’s Friday.
Her phone beeped in her back pocket. Another text from Sebastian.
Any new visitors today?
She rolled her eyes.
No.
Sebastian had been in London all week, having left early Sunday morning. They’d only spent that first day together which thankfully, after their talk in the garden, had ended a lot better than it had started out.
After Tom and Emma picked up the kids, Sebastian insisted that he and Helen take a trip to the supermarket where they then spent two hours—two hours!—perusing every aisle. Sebastian bought food, a ton of coffee andingredients—apparently, he really did like to cook—and he also bought pillows and towels and new linen for his bed.
Helen gave up protesting after the first hour, not used to anyone spending that much money all in one go, though on proper inspection of the goods at the checkout, she had to admit that the cottage did in fact need most of what Sebastian had bought. Personally, she was happy eating whatever she harvested from the garden or found at the back of the larder, but she fully understood that an Olympic athlete needed a lot more fuel for his body than she did for hers.
Having filled her almost-bare cupboards, fridge and freezer with groceries, they then spent a few hours shifting boxes out of the upstairs room, literally made Sebastian’s bed—by screwing the old frame back together—then sat at the kitchen table to properly devise the ins and outs of their fake relationship over the rather delicious stir-fry Sebastian had cooked.
By the end of the meal, the calendar hanging on the kitchen wall, which hadn’t been flipped over since February, was full of Sebastian’s neat writing, listing all his commitments—and hers, which were highlighted in yellow—including times and locations, right through to twenty-first September, the day of Sebastian’s return flight to Vancouver.
“That’s the first day of autumn,” Helen commented as she hung the calendar back on the hook. “Trust you to take yoursummerjob so literally.”
“It was out of my hands. Training starts on the twenty-third.” He tapped the calendar. “Eleven weeks from tomorrow.”
Eleven weeks.
Hopefully their arrangement would survive intact that long because eleven weeks’ worth of money would replenish her bank balance. As good luck would have it, Alexa had also emailed to say Licks and Laces had picked up new business so more work would be heading Helen’s way. Financially, things were looking up, but Helen still needed a more reliable stream of income to secure a mortgage on her cottage. She spent hours each day looking for jobs but, like Tom had always said, the higher paid work she needed was hard to come by without employer references and next to no qualifications. To appease her brother, she’d looked into courses that would give her some fancy-schmancy certificates, but they cost a lot of money, and the ones that didn’t took at least a year’s worth of study, with exams taking place next spring. The Pendlebury Estate would be sold by then.
Another message beeped. Sebastian again.
Has anyone asked about us today? Remember the story.
Helen knew her presence at the Get Living Center added an inconvenient layer of lies for Sebastian but seriously, the guy needed to chill out. Just as well that he’d been in London all week and they’d avoided having to act like a couple every minute of the working day. Although that hadn’t stopped him texting her every morning and evening—and several times in between. He was obviously concerned that she’d slip up and tell people about their arrangement, but as her entire working day was spent with Brian, Sebastian’s texts were rather futile. And she’d had five days of them!
She texted back.
Actually, Brian did ask about us and now he wants to audition for the role of your ‘personal assistant’. That okay with you? He says he can do a better job than me.
Her phone beeped.
Hilarious. Now get back to work.
