Page 38 of One Cornish Summer With You
‘It may well be,’ Hector said. ‘I’m in Newquay where the sun is shining and everyone is wearing dreadful pairs of shorts. Speak tomorrow when we can look through your draft together. We need this business, and it will bring a lot of work your way. Just think of your bonus.’
‘Tomorr—!’ Ruan exclaimed but Hector was gone.
Ruan laid the mobile on the table and felt a drop of cold water plop down his neck. Great. Now the caravan roof was leaking. He’d have to fix that urgently, though not beforehe’d spoken to Builder Two, whose van had just pulled up alongside the caravan.
After grabbing a bucket to put under the leak and moving his laptop safely out of the way of the small but worrying drip, Ruan grabbed his waterproof coat again.
Ruan went to greet the muscular type climbing out of the silver Renault van, a phone clamped to his ear.
The sky was still gunmetal grey, but the man was in builders’ boots, shorts and a T-shirt, seemingly oblivious to the rain slicing down that had plastered his shoulder-length blond hair to his head. Ruan felt a bit of a wimp to have bothered with a waterproof coat.
‘Morning, mate,’ the builder said, grasping Ruan’s hand hard. ‘Nice place you’ve got here. Or it could be. I’m Sean Carrow.’
‘Hi. Thanks for coming out in this weather.’
‘Used to it, mate.’ He glanced at the house with a grin. ‘Can’t wait to work on this one if I get the chance.’
‘Thanks. Shall I show you round the site?’ Ruan said cheerfully.
Maybe if he could keep Sean on side, he might be more positive about the work that needed doing. Who knows, he might even give him a more palatable quote.
Half an hour later, Sean left.
Ruan’s wellies were thick with mud, so he left them at the door of the caravan and returned to his laptop, ready to prepare the proposal for the Tremain estate’s business.
Polly wasn’t a character in a sea shanty, though her actual CV was just as colourful. Her real name and title wasLady Paulina Tremain. Ruan had to look her up online and discovered that she was entitled to the courtesy title as the daughter of an earl. Her late husband had been plain Mr Tremain, and after his death, Lady Paulina had continued to build up the estate.
In her youth, she’d been an international eventer who’d represented GB in the Olympics. Ruan guessed she’d be savvy, tough and stand for no nonsense, so his proposal had to give a compelling case for Gaverne’s to win the legal business. She’d also need confidence in Ruan, who’d be in charge of the estate’s day-to-day affairs.
As he started to make notes, another drip plopped on to his notebook.
The sooner he could get work started on the house, the better.
He might not have wanted to join the legal rat race as a partner in a city firm, but he did need to live and renovate Seaspray, which meant Hector’s hint of a bonus was very welcome. And after mulling over the figure both builders had hinted at for the work required on Seaspray, Ruan would need it.
He downloaded the Tremain file, realising rapidly that he’d have to work late and early in order to finish the proposal, and keep his appointment with the potato farmers.
Just as he was about to metaphorically bang his head on the desk, a message came up on his phone.
It was Tammy, asking him if he wanted to meet her tomorrow evening.
His day was finally looking up.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Tammy had already got the drinks in and had claimed a table outside the Brew House. Even though it was midweek, it was busy with tourists as the season started to ramp up.
Ruan was on time and made a beeline for her.
‘I got us drinks,’ she said when he sat down opposite her, seeming a little on edge, perhaps because he was wary of the reception he’d get from her. ‘Look, Ruan, I wanted to explain.’
‘You don’t have to explain anything. If you want to slow things down, or just end this before it goes any further, that’s fine. Well, not fine, obviously, but what you want is what matters.’
She leaned across the table. ‘No, I don’t want to end this. I also don’t want to sound stalkerish or needy.’ She lowered her voice because the tables were filling up with more drinkers. ‘And I’m not looking for pity. I’m only asking for time and patience and I wanted you to understand that things aren’t easy for me.’
He sipped his pint cautiously. ‘OK. I’m listening. I want to try to understand.’
‘I guess I don’t find it easy to trust people. In myexperience, they tend to disappear fast out of my life – or I end up forcing them out.’
