The sun was warm on her back, bird call broken only by the rhythmic purr of airplanes in the sky above on their landing approach to Heathrow. It was satisfyingly mindless work, and by the time the thyme bed was cleared, Bo’s hands and legs ached in the best possible way. She stood, stretching out towards the sky, relieving the kinks in the tired muscles of her body.
It was then that she had the distinct feeling of being watched. She turned, hands still raised to the sky, only to find Max standing by the sliding glass doors of the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest, looking at her intently. For a moment she looked right back at him, before she lowered her arms, crossing them over her chest and matching his pose.
If he wants to have it out with me, I’m ready,she thought.I’m not going to sit here and let him bully me about.
Surprisingly though, Max began to walk towards her, though he stopped at the end of the patio, where a box hedge divided the garden. Bo had never really thought about the hedge much before, aside from trimming and watering it, but with a start she now realized that it marked the border between the two properties Geoffrey owned. In fact, it was so clearly a dividing line Bo wondered how she’d never noticed it before.
If I dug beneath the hedge, I bet I’d find old fence posts,shethoughtcuriously.
Not that she was going to start digging now. Not when Max was still standing next to the hedge, his arms still crossed, gazing at her with a look that was at once both sullen and weary. Bo knew he already thought her a heartless gold-digger, so to be in his presence and immediately searching for a shovel was not the vibe she should be going for.
“I’d knock,” Max told her shortly. “But there isn’t a door.”
She shrugged. “Well, that’s because I’ve never needed one before.”
Behind Max’s eyes, Bo swore she could see the glimmer of an amused twinkle. It was just a glimmer however, before his gaze hardened, and he gestured to the house behind him.
“We need to talk. Come over,” he said, and although it was a suggestion, to Bo it sounded like an order. Her defences were up, her nerves were on edge and she couldn’t help but to bristle at his words.
“Why? So you can tell me in person that you plan on challenging Geoffrey’s will?”
He frowned. “I don’t plan on challenging the will.”
“Then why do we need to talk?”
He made a noise of pure frustration. “Because we do. We need to work out this . . . thissituation.”
“There’s nothing to work out,” Bo replied easily. “I own the garden; you own the house and patio. We have it all in writing. Geoffrey worked it out for us.”
“That may well be, but you haven’t thought out the logistics of Geoffrey’s gift yet, have you?”
“Logistics?” Bo repeated. “What logistics?”
“Well, for one thing, your summer house.”
“What about it?”
“Well, I can only assume you plan on continuing to live there,” Max began easily. “You own it now, after all, so that would be within your rights. Unfortunately for you, theelectricity supply that was installed a few years ago runs on power from the house I now own. I could cut you off, and that would be withinmyrights.”
Bo’s mouth dropped open. It had never occurred to her, not for a minute, that Max might cut off her access to power, and by default, to warmth too.
“You wouldn’t,” she stuttered. “I can . . . can pay you for the power.”
“I’m sure,” Max replied. “But what about the water? That also runs from my plumbing. The council tax is linked to my property too and I’m sure you don’t want to get into trouble with them. That’s if they could even contact you, of course, because your mail comes to my door too, right? Oh, and the last time I was here, you said you were reliant on access to Geoffrey’s bathroom. Your summer house doesn’t have a shower, right?”
It was like all the breath was being sucked from Bo’s lungs and she stood there, temporarily rendered quiet while she weighed up Max’s admittedly correct words.
He has me,she realized, dumbstruck.I need water and power. I need access to the house for showers. Fuck, I can’t even get into my garden without going through Max’s gate.
In her silence, Max continued heartlessly. “Like I said, logistics. Look, I’ve had time this afternoon to think this over, and I think I have a plan that will work for both of us. Come over, and let’s talk it through.”
“But I’m covered in soil and bramble thorns,” Bo replied, still reeling. “I can’t sit in Geoffrey’s house like this.”
For a moment, Max looked at her, and Bo shifted awkwardly under his gaze.
“I mean, I can’t sit in your house like this,” she corrected herself. “Geoffrey has — I mean,youhave some nice things. I don’t want to drag muck from the garden across the antique carpets.”
For another long moment, Max stared at her, and Bo blushed. She was standing in front of her new nemesis, a man she shared not only sexual history but now also a border dispute with, talking about antique carpets. “All right,” he finally said slowly. “Bring a towel, and you can shower first. Then we’ll talk.”
