Page 47 of Second Chance Summer
She found Sam wheelbarrowing roofing tiles towards one of the unfinished cottage units, which had a mound of building materials at the rear. Transporting those across and up to the resort couldn’t have been easy; no wonder he looked so fit.
With difficulty she dragged her eyes from Sam’s own impressive structure to the guest cottages. The simple single-storey stone buildings each had a window either side of a door and were built of the granite boulders found all over Stark and its neighbouring islands.
Even though they were simply constructed, they lookedsolid enough to withstand the worst the Atlantic could throw at them.
‘How did they build their houses? Two hundred years ago, I mean.’
‘Brute force. Those stones must have been shifted into place by hand, perhaps using ponies to help.’
‘And how haveyoumanaged?’ she asked.
‘Same, only without the ponies.’
He smiled yet Lily wished she hadn’t drawn her own attention to his muscular forearms and broad shoulders.
He wiped a hand over his forehead. ‘I’ll admit, it hasn’t been a walk in the park. It’s taken three years from the initial idea. My friend Aaron helped me at first and I can still call on mates to pitch in occasionally if need be. We brought equipment like the cement mixer and mini-digger over on the freight boat.’
‘Freight boat? I’d no idea it was such a complex operation.’ Clearly, Lily thought, she had a lot to learn about running a business in such a remote location.
‘Each island has its own communal freight boat used to bring heavier supplies and equipment from the main port in St Mary’s. As for the work here: Aaron helped with the roofing, and a local plumber and electrician fitted the bathrooms and restaurant kitchen. I paid them back by helping them with their own projects.’
‘The fit is to such a high standard, it must have been quite an investment.’ Lily was more impressed and amazed than ever that Sam had made the cottages so beautiful.
‘It wasn’t cheap. I used an inheritance from my maternalgrandparents to get started plus savings from the building business.’ He cast a wistful eye over the unfinished cottage. ‘We’re nearly there. When I’ve finished the roof on this and made it watertight, I’ll start painting the third and fourth ones. The second is drying out and only needs furnishings.’
‘I could help you with that. Painting and furnishing.’
‘No way. You didn’t come here to work for me!’
‘It wouldn’t be work. I love getting hands on and I rarely have time now. I learned how to paint walls and sew from my mum and dad. You did say I could give you some tips, so here’s one: if someone offers to work for you for free, then you should grab the help with both hands.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ Sam said.
‘Call it my therapy,’ she said archly.
He hesitated and she could see he was very tempted. ‘Like I said, I’ll think about it. Now, I’ll leave you to relax. And be careful while you’re on the island.’
‘I won’t get cut off, if that’s what you mean.’
A short time later, Lily gathered up her artist’s materials and set off to explore the side of the island she hadn’t seen the previous day. It was located below the South Hill at the opposite end from the pest house.
As she walked away from the retreat, the sounds of hammering and helicopters approaching Tresco were the only things to disturb the peace. Even they faded by the time she’d walked down the slope and was in the lee of the South Hill.
The zig-zag path turned and, suddenly, Tean Porth, with its handful of ruined cottages, came into view. They were ahundred metres or so back from a crescent of beach, its sand as pale as the moon, scattered with bleached driftwood.
Lily caught her breath at this thrilling glimpse into the past.
She walked down the path until she was on the flat grassy area the houses were built on. The single-storey cottages were very similar in layout to her own, but there the resemblance ended. These dwellings had no roofs or windows, and their interiors were almost overgrown with bracken, fern and foxgloves.
She stepped inside one, under the stone lintel. Sam had mentioned that the stones for some of the cottages might have been taken from even older structures: Iron Age homes and tombs. The sudden contrast between warm sun and deep shade made goosebumps stand out on her arms. The foliage and shadows created a dank chill that added to the gloomy atmosphere.
At one end of the cottage, the hearth still stood and was large enough to duck inside. There was a narrow walkway through the plant life, which must have been created by humans – though when, she’d no idea. Sam and his builder mates, probably, as he’d said they’d recently inspected the structures to see if it was feasible to convert them.
Lily stepped into the shadows of those Victorian ladies who had looked on Stark as a romantic tourist destination after its residents had been evacuated. She imagined them on their day trips, sitting by the ruined hearth with their picnics – quails’ eggs, hams and fancy cakes, with servants in tow to wait on them.
‘Oh!’
She let out a cry and flinched, before laughing at the sight of the crow she’d obviously scared from the hearth. It was only a bird … and even though this place was making her jittery, it was so atmospheric. She knew she had to paint it.
