She took a sandwich and mug of tea into the garden and lowered herself gently onto a seat. It might be wishful thinking, but the pain was a little easier. No more painkillers, they made her head a little muggy, and she needed to be able to think straight.

  Her sandwich was finished, and she was sipping her tea, when Tom came out obviously looking for her. She’d made no headway in thinking of a solution to the problem she already had, and she could see by his tight expression that he was going to land another on her.

  ‘Hi,’ she said.

  He pulled the chair opposite out with the toe of his boot and sat. ‘I’m not interrupting, am I?’ he said, with the air of someone who didn’t really care if he was or not. ‘I’ve done a thorough detailed electrical survey.’ He enunciated each word carefully, as if by doing so it would make everything clearer. ‘The system is working perfectly. There is no fault with the lights. I checked the fittings, the bulbs, the switches. Everything is as it should be.’

  ‘So why does the fuse keep being tripped?’

  She saw it then… the quickly hidden flicker of disbelief. He didn’t believe her. Or perhaps it was more a case that he was so sure he was right, so certain that there was no problem with the electrics, that she had to be lying. She knew she wasn’t. That left only one logical reasonable explanation – the lights weren’t tripping the fuse; somebody was manually switching them.

  The electrician was waiting for a comment. What did he expect? That she’d confess she’d been wasting his time. Maybe he thought she was looking for attention. An older woman, living on her own. The thought that he might be regarding her in such a way brought Cassie to her feet so abruptly she had to swallow a cry of pain as her mistreated muscles made clear their dislike of such treatment. She felt old, decrepit, useless as she pressed her hands on the table trying to regain her composure.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  The genuine sympathy in his eyes made Cassie feel immediately guilty for thinking badly of him. ‘I’m fine, thank you. Just a few aches from unaccustomed physical work.’ She rustled up a smile. ‘Thank you for checking the electrics again, I do appreciate it. Perhaps I just imagined it all.’ Making herself out to be an idiot.

  ‘Not the kind of thing you can imagine, really.’ He shrugged. ‘All I know is, I can’t see anything wrong.’ He stood and picked up the bag he’d dropped at his feet. ‘I’ll be back in a couple of days to do the electrics for the en suites, but if you need me before that, just give a shout.’

  Cassie watched him go, then turned to head back inside. There was a clatter of dirty mugs by the sink, she added hers to it wondering if they were going to be left for her to clean up later. Then she sighed. What else had she to do?

  Outside the kitchen, she hesitated at the entrance to the narrow dark corridor with its eerie little rooms. The dirty windows filtered the light that came through the bars. Strange striped shadows on the walls flickered as weeds growing outside swayed in the summer breeze.

  Cassie shivered. It did make sense to get what would be the money-earning part of the house renovated first, but she’d really like to get these rooms done. They were damp. She could smell it, feel it. When they were all knocked together, and the wall dividing them from the kitchen was gone, light would come from both sides and it would be a much happier space.

  Happier? It was a strange thought to have. Buildings weren’t happy or sad, that was down to the people who lived in them, wasn’t it? But as she stood there, with the cold and damp creeping over her skin, she knew her first thought had been right. It would be a happier space when the work was done, but for now it was a sad, dismal, blood-chilling place.

  She trudged up the stairs to the ground floor and crossed to the fuse board. It all looked as it should be. There was no reason to doubt the electrician, but unlike him, she knew she hadn’t imagined it: someone had, somehow, got into the house and switched the fuses off. Twice.

  If it was to frighten her, they’d succeeded. If it was to mess with her head, they’d succeeded there too. But if they’d hoped to chase her away with this, or with that booby-trapped attic, they didn’t know a thing about her. If they did, they’d know that when she was knocked to the ground, she always came up fighting.

  23

  Cody came to find Cassie before his team finished for the day. She was still working on the bedroom and, although it was slow work, she’d made progress. Most of the small stuff was gone, another hour would see her finished.

  ‘You’ve done well,’ he said, looking around the room.

  She wiped perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand. It had been sweaty dirty work. She guessed she looked a state, but so did he. His brown hair was thick with dust and there were dark smears of questionable origin across his cheeks. There was an expression her mother used when Cassie would complain about having to study instead of joining her friends in the pub – you can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs. Her mother was right, of course, Cassie would never have got the grades without putting the effort in. It was the same here – even if it meant getting battered, bruised and filthy in the process.

  She felt Cody’s eyes on her. ‘I’ll get all I can moved out of here by this evening.’ She pointed to some of the furniture too big to lift. ‘If someone could throw those out, that’d be good.’

  He picked up a small but heavy table and tossed it from the window straight into the skip. ‘Lucky shot,’ he said, turning with a grin. ‘I’ll have the rest removed tomorrow.’

  ‘Good, and I’ll make a start on the last bedroom.’

  Perhaps she sounded weary. Or maybe she looked worse than she felt because he shook his head. ‘There’s no rush, you know, we’re not going to get to it until next week sometime.’ He nodded towards the remaining furniture. ‘This lot will fill up the skip. I’ll have it picked up tomorrow and ask for the next one to be dropped outside the other window. You’ll be able to start emptying the room on Wednesday.’

  She didn’t know whether to be pleased or annoyed that he appeared to be giving her permission to take a day off. It didn’t matter, she was grateful for it. Burying herself in work hadn’t prevented her mind trying to grapple with the who and why someone would have booby-trapped the attic, and whether the same person was responsible for interfering with the electrics.

  If she was going to strike back, she needed to know who to aim for. ‘Before I forget, Tom is finished. He can’t find anything wrong with the electrics but I’d be happier if there was a lock put on the fuse box door, can you organise that, please?’

  ‘Can do.’ Cody seemed reluctant to leave. He leaned a shoulder against the wall and gave her a rundown on how far they’d progressed that day in a level of detail Cassie struggled to find interesting. She truly didn’t care what kind of wood he’d used to repair the attic floor and didn’t need to hear a treatise on the merits of treated studwork timber for the bathroom walls. A bit like when she had a nice meal out – she didn’t need to know every ingredient or how it was cooked, she simply wanted to enjoy the taste.

  ‘I trust you to use what is best,’ she said when there was a break in his report. The only thing she really needed to know was how much more the attic work had cost her.

  ‘Negligible,’ he said. ‘It was pretty straightforward.’ He pushed away from the wall. ‘You look done in; why don’t you tidy up a bit and come into Hindon with me for something to eat?’

  She looked down at her clothes, brushing dust from her jeans, hiding the flush of colour that had flared across her cheeks. ‘A bit?’ She laughed and looked at him. ‘I think you’re being kind.’

  He held his hands up. ‘We’d be a matching pair. Do come, the food in The Lamb is excellent. We can eat in their pub where they won’t raise as much as an eyebrow at two scruffy hard workers going for a bite to eat.’

  She should have said no. Of course she should. Their relationship was professional; it was better to keep it that way. But it had been a long time since she’d spent time with a man who wasn’t her husband. Since his death, there’d been nobody, nor any inclination to fill the space he’d left. It was too filled with pain. Cody seemed like one of the good guys, but she’d thought that of Richie too, and look how that had ended. Richie! Was she going to let him ruin her life forever?

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Give me ten minutes to make some attempt at restoring order. At least I have water.’

  ‘Hot water too, he said with a smile. ‘I had a look at the boiler and got it working.’

  Hot water! ‘Right, well, that’ll make a difference. I might be able to make myself respectable.’ She filled a basin with gloriously hot water, took it upstairs with her and did the best she could with what she had. It was impossible to wash her hair. Instead, she untied it, brushed the dust from it, and tied it back. Unfortunately, the style highlighted the bruises. Swearing softly, she applied a little more make-up than usual and thanked whatever genius had invented concealer. Chinos, and the least creased shirt she could find, and she was ready.

  Almost twenty minutes had passed before she rejoined Cody in the kitchen. He’d obviously made the most of what facilities were available. His clothes were still grubby but his face and hands were clean, his hair dampened and smoothed back.

  He didn’t appear irritated at the long wait, getting to his feet when she opened the door, and giving an appreciative smile. ‘You’ve scrubbed up well.’

  She felt colour flare in her cheeks again. Annoyed with herself for being so damn susceptible, she grabbed her keys and opened the back door. ‘I’ll drive myself, meet you there.’ It was better, he wouldn’t need to drive her home, she wouldn’t be tempted… What was she thinking! He was merely being kind. She was behaving like a stupid teenager. Ignoring his surprised expression, she crossed to her car, climbed in, and took off without another glance in his direction.

  He'd think she was a moody cow, but better that than he thinking she had the hots for him. The hots? God, how pathetic! By the time she pulled into The Lamb’s small car park, she’d regained both her equilibrium and her sense of humour.

  Cody pulled into the space beside her, and they walked in together.

  The pub with its flagstone floors, inglenook fireplaces and wooden beams instantly made Cassie feel relaxed. ‘This was a good idea, thank you,’ she said. ‘I’m suddenly starving.’

  The pub was busy, with several customers at the bar and a few tables already occupied. Cody pointed to a vacant one overlooking the High Street. ‘How about there?’

  It was perfect. They sat and a comfortable silence settled between them as they perused the menu.

  It didn’t take Cassie long to decide. ‘I think I’ll have the beer-battered fish and chips.’

  ‘And a burger and chips for me,’ Cody said. He picked up both menus and stood. ‘What’ll you have to drink?’

  ‘A small white wine, please.’

  With a nod, he headed to the bar to order.

  He was obviously well known and stopped to have a word with several people. He had a comfortable way with him, shaking hands with the men, kissing the cheeks of the women, all done with obvious charm. When Cassie found herself staring at him, she dragged her eyes away and looked through the window to the street outside. There was nothing to keep her attention, but she kept her eyes resolutely fixed there until she saw Cody’s reflection in the window.

  ‘Sorry, to be so long,’ he said, putting a glass of wine down. ‘I hope Chardonnay is okay.’

  He sat with a pint of beer in one hand and raised it in a salute. ‘To Hindon House.’

  She laughed, raised her glass, and tipped it against his. ‘To Hindon House.’

  Their food arrived soon after, and they made polite small talk as they ate. Only when they were finished, did Cody sit back, and with a more serious expression ask, ‘Have you reported the attic sabotage? To the police, I mean.’

  The police! It hadn’t entered her head. It did now, making her shake her head emphatically. ‘There’s nothing to report. Someone was playing a silly trick.’ She held her hand up when she saw he was going to argue. ‘I’d prefer to leave it at that, if you don’t mind.’ Maybe she’d been too sharp. Too I’m the boss, what I say goes. She saw a shutter come down over Cody’s face. As if he was thinking the same.

  He shrugged, drained his glass, and put it down. ‘I don’t mind. It’s your house, and your neck.’

  Cassie probably should have been grateful he was concerned. It wasn’t that she was reluctant to involve the police. They had, after all, been extremely kind to her following the crash, and patient with her as she’d stumbled through her account of what had happened. She just didn’t want to tempt fate by bringing herself back into their orbit unnecessarily. Stupidly eager for Cody not to see her in a bad light, she was about to trot out some excuse about not wanting to waste police time when she saw him smile.

  She blinked in surprise, then realised he was looking over her shoulder at someone who’d come through the door behind. A woman? Cassie waited to see what vision of loveliness was going to appear, taken aback when she turned her head, to see a dark-suited man approach.

  Cody got to his feet and reached out to envelop the man in a bear hug. Pushing him away, he kept an arm around his shoulder, and introduced him to Cassie. ‘Meet my brother, Father Patrick Cody. Patrick, this is Cassie Macreddin who’s bought Hindon House.’

  Patrick Cody shared his sibling’s good looks, but they were a softer, gentler version, his eyes warmer. And when he spoke, his voice was almost peaceful. ‘How nice to meet you,’ he said.

  ‘And you,’ she replied.

  Cody grabbed a chair from the free table behind. ‘Here you go, sit and join us for a while. D’you want something to eat?’

  Father Cody sat. ‘No, thank you, I can’t stay. I only popped in to have a word with someone.’

  He didn’t say who, and Cassie noticed Cody didn’t ask. Some parish business, no doubt. She was fascinated by the difference in these two men, so alike, yet so different. Cody sitting slouched in his seat, hands shoved into the pockets of his cargo pants, the priest sitting upright, his hands resting on the table in front of him, one atop the other, palms up, as if he was begging for alms. One man so restless, the other so peaceful.

  ‘I assume you have big plans for the house,’ the priest asked.

  ‘It’s going to be a country-house B&B.’ She smiled and added, ‘Eventually.’

  ‘Good things take time, and it doesn’t do to rush.’

  ‘Next he’ll be telling you that when God made time, he made plenty of it,’ Cody said.

  Cassie thought this was quite funny and was about to laugh until she saw the priest’s face. His expression had sharpened, hardened. He didn’t, it appeared, share his brother’s sense of humour.

  ‘I’m hoping to have the bulk of the work done within six months,’ she said, bringing his attention back to her. ‘There’s a lot to be done, but your brother has assured me it can be done within that time frame.’

  ‘Promises easily made are as easily broken. It is better to trust in the Lord.’

  ‘I know when Patrick starts to get all religious, that it’s time to leave,’ Cody said. He jerked a thumb towards the bar. ‘I’ll go and settle up.’ He held up a hand. ‘And before you decide to argue, this is my treat, call it a working dinner.’

  And with that, he was gone, leaving Cassie with his brother.

  ‘Daniel is a good man.’ The priest got to his feet. ‘But when it comes to business, he is like all the others. So be careful.’

  He walked away before Cassie found her tongue to ask what he meant. She was still frowning when Cody returned a minute later. He didn’t seem surprised to see his brother had left without saying goodbye. Perhaps they had an odd relationship.

  But the priest’s words had unsettled Cassie. Worse, they’d dented the confidence she had in Cody. She’d quickly classified him as one of the good guys, but truly what did she know about him?

  It was probably for the best to keep him at a safe distance. Keep her on her toes.

  Keep her from doing something stupid, like becoming romantically involved with a man working for her.

  But she was still frowning as she returned to the house, and only seeing the lights blazing from every window managed to shift her low mood a little. She was being silly. It was probably a version of fraternal rivalry. The businessman versus the priest – religion versus capitalism.

  She had enough on her plate without getting involved.

  24

  The following morning, with a huge amount of difficulty and a lot of swearing, Cassie managed to wash her hair at the kitchen sink. It felt so good to have it washed that when she blow dried it, she left it loose. The bruise to her forehead was a nice shade of pale green. She had eyeshadow a similar shade; it was almost tempting to use it. She was going to the café in Hindon – it would give the staff something to stare at. Resisting the temptation, she applied foundation she hadn’t used for a long time. A final touch of concealer blended the discolouration away and helped disguise the many nicks her skin had sustained from the broken glass. She brushed a finger over one cut close to her eye: a lucky miss.

  A white T-shirt, and pale blue chinos made her feel summery and brightened a mood that couldn’t make up its mind to be glum or glad.

  Still undecided, she stood at the back door drinking a mug of coffee until Cody and his team arrived.

  ‘Morning,’ she said. ‘I’ve some business to look after so I’ll be gone for a few hours.’ She was annoyed at herself for explaining, but she didn’t want him to think she’d taken his advice and was skiving off for the day. ‘If there’s any problems that can’t wait until I’m back, you can get me on my mobile.’

  ‘Good,’ Cody said, then with a nod, he vanished into the house.

  Good? That she was going to be available if needed, or that she was away for a few hours. She played the one word in her head over and over, checking the tone. Was it a tad patronising? As if he knew what was good for her. Or worse, as if he was the big strong builder man putting everything to rights, whereas she was the idiot who’d bought the house and was set to pour every penny into doing the renovation in the hope of making her dream come true.

 

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