“Your choice, Lenny. But if you’re asking my opinion, then I’d say you’ve got yourself a nice piece of real estate here. I bet you could have everything looking amazing if you’re prepared to spend a bit of money.”
“I know what you mean. And that’s not the issue. It’s whether I have the time to take on a new project.”
Adrian watched as Lenny went over to the bathtub and turned on a tap, then checked the connection to the shower over the tub. Satisfied, he sat down on the edge and critically surveyed the whole room. Right at that moment, the ringtone of the song Master and Servant by Depeche Mode sounded on Lenny’s phone. Even before he pulled out his phone from his jeans pocket, his eyes went to Adrian and briefly rose to the ceiling.
“Mother.”
Adrian carried on looking around the room while Lenny took the call. He ran a hand over the pipes from the ceiling to the lavatory. Whoever had initially plumbed in the bathroom had not been professionals. Pipes ran outside the walls and along the floor, roughly painted over, with nothing concealed. While checking the work, Adrian couldn’t help listening in to the call. After a while, he got the gist of the conversation. The aunt had been on the phone, pestering his mother about the farmhouse that was not a farmhouse.
“For heaven’s sake, Mum. I’ve only just got here. Today is the first opportunity we’ve had to check the house over.”
Adrian opened the wall cupboard in the corner which probably housed towels and other toiletries. A layer of dust covered all the shelves. They would need plenty of cleaning materials if Lenny decided to renovate.
“Well, if I’m going to be honest, I’m leaning more towards keeping rather than selling. Not only is it beautiful, but I know Dad used to come here for holidays as a kid. A lot of work is going to be needed, but I think it could turn out to be a good little investment.”
Adrian smiled his agreement. Even the windows—lead-framed and cracked in places—could probably do with updating, but the potential was without doubt. The electrics would also need a thorough inspection, not something Adrian could do, but there was bound to be someone locally they could employ. Or better still, he could bring one of his reliable contacts from Norwich down for the week once they had gutted the place. Adrian could hear Lenny getting agitated by something his mother was saying.
“She saidwhat?”
A moment passed before Lenny spoke again.
“Listen. If she keeps pestering you, stop answering her calls or give her my number. I’ll be more than happy to speak to her if it means avoiding solicitors getting involved.”
Adrian sat on the lid of the toilet and made no pretence about listening to the conversation.
“Fine. In which case I have my own solicitor. One I’ve been using for years.”
Once again a short silence ensued, during which Lenny caught Adrian’s eyes and mouthed a quick ‘sorry’.
“Then you can tell her from me that the place is mine to do with what I want. If that means putting it up for sale or donating it to charity, then that’s what I’ll do. And if she really wants to start legal action, then please tell her to go right ahead. But she’d better bring her best game and get herself top representation. Because believe me, Mum,I will. As Dawson quite correctly stated, she’s going to have a rough time if she does down that route. Okay. Got to go. Bye, Mum.”
After a few moments of thought, he turned to Adrian and thrust his phone away into his pocket. A fierce determination had replaced the usual calm expression, a look Adrian had never seen on Lenny’s face before.
“Would you come down here and help me? I mean, would you be prepared to give me a quote on what needs to be done and work alongside me to do the renovations? Maybe provide me with some of your ideas and suggestions about how I could improve the place?”
“I’d be honoured. And I’ve already got some ideas of things you could do to modernise this place without losing its uniqueness. I’ll make a few sketches when I get back. But right now, I’m going to fetch my notepad from the truck. Then we can continue making a list of what needs to be replaced and where any structural changes need to be made.”
“Good idea,” said Lenny, levelling his gaze at Adrian. “You’d think finding family you never knew you had would be a good thing. But it turns out my father was a better judge of character than I ever appreciated. And fuck it, not only for him, but for me, too. I’ve just this second made up my mind. I’m keeping Bryn Bach.”
Chapter Nine
Confession
During their assessment of each room, and with a new resolve, Leonard felt a growing connection to the house. Adrian’s continued enthusiasm and ideas for improvement helped. But knowing Leonard’s father had holidayed there during his childhood, had probably spent happy, innocent days playing in the garden and going for local hikes, he felt an affinity with the place. Even the knowledge that a cousin had taken his life in one of the bedrooms did not deter him—it only made him more curious about a relative he had never known. According to Mrs Llewellyn, Luke had been at his happiest in Wales, in this house. And even though Leonard mentioned nothing to Adrian, the suicide note had left something of a mystery, one he wanted to try to solve.
Back downstairs, Adrian stood inside the arched door to the kitchen, his big hands on the hips of his blue overalls, surveying the walls and décor. Leonard admired his solid frame and quiet strength, the way he had effortlessly ripped up part of the linoleum before gently smoothing the palm of his bare hand along the surface to check the state of the floorboards, how he quickly and single-handedly hefted the king-sized mattress from the bed in the back bedroom before carefully positioning the stained mess against the wall. Strength and grace, traits Leonard found incredibly attractive.
“Let me just say right now that if for some batshit-crazy reason you decide to keep this kitchen as is, in another decade or two the design might—justmight—become fashionable again.”
Leonard snorted quietly and watched as Adrian went over and gently tugged open one of the lower cupboard doors, which instantly came away in his hand, the hinges rusted and broken.
“Or maybe not.”
“Careful, cowboy. That’s my kitchen you’re destroying.”
“And here’s me thinking you had taste. It’s only the top hinge. I can soon fix that back in place.”
Adrian’s humour kept him grounded. Admittedly, the kitchen had probably been left untouched for decades. Dull teal units with their stubborn doors, grease-speckled orange and brown kitchen tiles and sticky linoleum flooring of lemon and lime diamonds might have been tasteful for somebody once—but not anymore, and not for Leonard. He swore he felt a migraine coming on every time they stepped into the room.
