16
Finula’s spirits lifted once they drove past the sign of Treweham village. It felt good to be home, not that she didn’t enjoy living in Shropshire, but her roots were here, deep in the Cotswolds. As always, her dad was there at the front door of The Templar, ready to meet them, making her heart tug a little. Marcus pulled into the car park and opened the boot of the Range Rover to carry in the luggage. Finula ran to hug Dermot.
‘Oh, Dad, I miss you,’ she half wailed.
‘Now, come on, Fin.’ He laughed, blinking rapidly. He turned to Marcus. ‘How are you, Marcus?’
‘Fine, Dermot, and yourself?’
‘Good. Come and meet the new owner of The Templar.’ He ushered them both inside. Christie was on reception and gave them all a wide smile.
‘Hello, you must be Finula and Marcus?’ Finula instantly warmed to the pretty girl with dark, curly hair and a kind, welcoming face.
‘And you must be Christie.’ She held her hand out to shake Christie’s.
‘Hello, Christie.’ Marcus nodded his head. ‘Which room are we in?’
‘Room one – it’s all ready for you.’ She handed Finula the key.
‘It seems strange taking a key from you, instead of just going up to my room.’
‘Ah, I’m, in there now,’ replied Christie with a grin.
‘And wants to redecorate it,’ butted in Dermot.
‘I should think so, Dad!’ reprimanded Finula making Christie chuckle to herself. A hunch told her she was going to get along just fine with Finula.
*
Once upstairs and in their room, Finula wrapped her arms round Marcus.
‘Do you remember the first time we were in this room?’ she whispered sexily. Marcus raised his eyebrow.
‘Do I ever, you little minx.’ He lowered his head and kissed her slowly. Finula hugged him harder. Just then there was a knock at the door, prompting them to stop suddenly. Dermot poked his head round the door.
‘Come on, there’s drinks at the bar for you, then we’ll eat.’
‘OK, we’re on our way, Dad,’ called Finula. When he’d left she giggled at Marcus’ face.
‘No change there then,’ he said with a wry grin.
*
Finula loved being back in The Templar, but as a guest, and not having to work behind the bar, which was getting busy.
‘Business still good then, Dad, even though all the locals know you’re leaving?’ They’d all enjoyed a lovely evening meal and were relaxing with coffee in the far corner of the dining area.
‘Yes, they’ve all taken to Christie. I’m not surprised – she’s a good girl and loves this place.’ He turned towards her as she chatted and served drinks to various people.
‘She seems to fit in well,’ observed Marcus. His eyes narrowed to the blond-haired man propped up by the bar who appeared very comfortable talking to Christie. ‘Is he a local?’ He nodded in his direction.
‘No, well not yet anyway. That’s Daniel. He’s staying here at the moment, but wants to find a house here in Treweham. He’s going to help Christie renovate the bedrooms. He has “an eye” for that sort of thing apparently.’ It clearly perplexed Dermot that Christie felt the need to change anything, but then he was no longer the owner.
‘Good for Christie,’ said Finula, pleased that The Templar was in safe hands.
‘Daniel fancies buying the old Keeper’s Cottage,’ Dermot told her.
‘Didn’t know Tobias was selling it,’ she replied surprised.
