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‘Don’t you worry about that. I think I can rustle us up something. The village deli won’t be closing for another twenty minutes. If you like, I could pick up a few things and bring them over later.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Sure I’m sure. See you soon.’

Mandy spent the next hour unpacking the last of what little crockery and cutlery she had, and putting the kitchen in order. Soon afterwards, there was a rap at the door and she trotted to the entrance hall to find Todd standing there clutching a large bag of groceries and a bottle of champagne, which he thrust at her as he stepped inside. ‘House warming present,’ he said. ‘It’s great to see you again, Mandy.’

The same easy rapport still existed between them as when they’d first met. It was as if they’d known each other for years. She felt comfortable in his presence, and strongly attracted. She hoped he felt the same frisson she was feeling.

‘You shouldn’t have!’ she said, looking in amazement at the champagne.

‘We’re celebrating your arrival in Fairwood, aren’t we? Stick it in the freezer and it’ll be chilled in time for dinner.’ He rustled the grocery bag. A long packet of spaghetti protruded from the top. ‘You like Italian?’

‘Spaghetti with champagne?’

‘Are you kidding? Champagne’ll go with anything. Now lead me to your kitchen and let your chef for the night get to work. I even brought a few utensils in case you didn’t have them.’

‘How pathetic of me,’ she said as they headed into the kitchen. ‘First I invite you for a meal, then I let you do the cooking. I won’t even be able to help much, either. I’m not exactly Delia Smith.’

He emptied the groceries and cooking utensils out on the pine table and grinned at her. ‘You don’t have to do a thing. I’m delighted to cook, though on one condition only. You’ve got to give me something in return.’

She cocked her head to one side, raising one eyebrow and looking at him with mock suspicion. ‘Oh yeah? What’s that?’

‘The guided tour. I haven’t seen round the place yet.’

‘Deal,’ she said.

They began with the downstairs. ‘And this is where I’ll be doing my writing,’ she said as she showed him inside the study.

‘Wish I had a space like this to work in,’ he said, gazing around him and nodding. Noticing the broken picture lying on the desk, he pointed. ‘Whoops. Had an accident?’

‘That’s a little odd, actually,’ she replied, frowning at the picture. ‘It keeps dropping off the wall.’

‘Is this where it was hanging?’ he asked, going over to examine the bare hook between the windows. He waggled it. ‘No wonder. It’s loose. How about letting the handyman bodge it for you?’

‘Handyman, chef. Is there anything you can’t do?’

‘Truth? I’m not that much of a photographer.’

‘I don’t believe a word of it. Hey, if you could find a way of making the books stay on the shelves, too, that’d be great. They fell off earlier, which is a mystery to me.’

He shrugged. ‘Could be trucks.’

‘Trucks?’

‘Moore’s Haulage in Stanton. Their drivers often take a short cut down the country lanes around Fairwood. Some of those trucks are really massive, too big and heavy for these roads. There was an article in the Village Voice complaining about vibrations.’

‘Maybe,’ she said doubtfully.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said with a bright smile. ‘I’ll gladly take a look at the bookshelf for you sometime. Why don’t you show me around the rest of the place, and then we’ll eat?’

The living room was next. ‘I love it,’ Todd commented. ‘Whoever restored the place did a really sympathetic job. Look at all these period features, the beams, and all these nooks and crannies everywhere. And the fireplace. Wow. What an amazing piece of carving.’ She followed as he walked across the gleaming floorboards for a closer look at the massive piece of oak. Below the thick mantel jutted a fierce animal head, gargoyle-like, its features still sharply drawn even after centuries. The effect was strikingly Gothic.

‘I wondered what it represents,’ she said. ‘A lion, like the one on the front door?’

‘Or a griffin, maybe,’ he said, running his fingers over the smooth, glistening wood. ‘Some heraldic beast of Olde England. What a fabulous piece of historic workmanship to have in your home.’

‘It’s so rambling, you could lose yourself in it,’ Todd marvelled as she showed him more of the downstairs, proudly pointing out her favourite features.

She laughed. ‘I keep thinking there are still more rooms for me to discover.’

‘What’s along that passage?’ he asked when she’d led him upstairs.

‘My bedroom,’ she replied, hoping that didn’t sound like an invitation.

‘I love these old light fittings,’ he said, tapping one of the old Bakelite switches in the passage. He turned it on and off with a solid click. ‘They don’t make stuff like that any more. And the old-fashioned heavy oak doors with metal studs in them, and the ironware, like the ring handles and the big old keys in every lock. Very cool.’

‘So the overall verdict?’ she said, smiling broadly at him over her shoulder as they made their way back downstairs. ‘You approve?’

‘It’s marvellous. Apart from anything else, it’s a photographer’s dream.’

‘Or will be, when it’s properly furnished. That might have to wait until I get a bestseller or two.’

‘You won’t have to wait long, I’m sure.’ Wandering back in for another admiring look at the dining room, he went over to the piano.

‘Needs tuning,’ she said as he lifted the lid.

He casually tinkled a few notes with his right hand. ‘You play?’

She laughed. ‘To hear me, you’d never think I’d started at age seven. You sound like you can find your way around a piano yourself, though.’

‘It’s not my forte.’

‘Ouch. With puns like that you could go a long way in the publishing business.’ She smiled at him. ‘So you don’t rate yourself much as a photographer, and you can’t play the piano. Tell me, Todd Talby. There must be something you’re best at.’

‘In all the world?’

‘In all the world.’

‘I have a few regrets in life,’ he said, thoughtfully tinkling a few more notes on the piano. ‘One of them is that I never became a professional cook.’

‘Really?’

‘Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy my job. I get to travel around a lot, I’m my own boss, I meet interesting people. But cooking’s what makes me happy. I love to be around food. Thank Christ I don’t love eating it as much as I love preparing it, or I’d be as fat as a fool.’ He turned away from the piano. ‘And speaking of food, now that you’ve met your end of the bargain by showing me your amazing house, it’s time for me to fulfil mine. Let’s get this meal on the road.’

With just a pack of spaghetti, a tin of peeled Italian tomatoes, some black olives and a wedge of parmesan cheese, a little olive oil, butter, garlic, basil, sea salt and ground pepper and just a touch of cream for the sauce, Todd expertly whipped them up a fabulous feast. By the time the food was heaped steaming on their plates, the champagne was nicely chilled. They sat across from one another at the pine table with Buster watching over them.

‘Here’s to Summer Cottage,’ Todd said, raising his glass. ‘Or should I say, here’s to its very lucky and talented new owner.’

Mandy felt herself blush. ‘And thank you for being here to share my first real meal in the place.’

The food tasted as delicious as it looked and smelled. As they ate and drank and laughed, Mandy was thinking she’d really like to spend more time with Todd. A lot more time.