the glass down, and said, ‘You know you heard that rumour about Little’s Cottage being sold?’
Dave gave him a warning glance and said, over-heartily, ‘More than a rumour, my old son. We’ve got the new owner sitting right here. Came in to introduce herself, which I call very friendly and civil.’
The man’s head swivelled round so sharply that Kate was afraid he must have ricked his neck, and the hard eyes were fixed on her in a penetrating stare that made her feel, for a moment, quite uncomfortable. She was aware that she was not presenting herself at her best, and simple pride made her think that if she’d met this man in London with her glad rags on he wouldn’t have looked at her like a prefect looking at an inky new kid. She could have taken him on on his own terms.
‘I’ll do the honours, shall I?’ Dave went on, evidently thinking the stare was not conducive to a happy bar atmosphere. ‘Kate, this is Phil Kingdon. Phil, Kate Jennings, who bought Little’s. Phil’s the land agent for the Blackmore Estate.’
‘How do you do?’ Kate said coolly, keeping her end up.
But suddenly everything changed. The man smiled, his eyes crinkling, the hard stare was history, and a hand was being offered. ‘How do
you
do?’ he said. ‘Pleased to meet you. Sorry if I was a bit abrupt before – I’ve just had a long drive for nothing, so I was feeling a bit ratty. So, Little’s new owner? Let me buy you a drink, introduce you to the village.’
Kate shook the hand (hard, well-manicured), and responded to the smile – why not? She was here to make friends – though she didn’t quite feel it had a spontaneous warmth to it. ‘I’m not a complete stranger here,’ she said.
‘Her dad was from Exford,’ Dave amplified.
‘So I’m half Exmoor,’ Kate went on.
‘I should have known from the name,’ said Phil Kingdon. ‘What’ll you have?’
‘Thanks, but I really have to get back to work,’ Kate said, glancing at the clock over the fireplace. ‘And I’m expecting a skip.’
‘A what?’ Phil said, startled.
‘Kate’s doing all her own work,’ said Dave, with a sort of proprietorial pride that amused her.
‘Hence my scruffy state,’ Kate got in, with a gesture towards her clothes. ‘I scrub up quite nicely, you know.’
Another crinkling smile. ‘I’m sure you do,’ Phil said. ‘Perhaps I can buy you that drink another time? Tonight? Oh, no, wait, I can’t tonight. What about tomorrow night?’
Woah, boy
, Kate thought.
Fast worker
. And she wasn’t here to go out on dates, though it was flattering to get such an instant response. ‘Thanks all the same, but I’m not really fit to go out, after a day working on the cottage,’ she said.
He wasn’t so easily put off. ‘Oh, come on, just a drink. I bet you’ll want to get out of that place for an hour or two. All work and no play, you know. One drink, all right?’ He was giving her the full force of his charm, but she didn’t know anything about him and, given his age and apparently comfortable income, she couldn’t believe he wasn’t married.
‘I’m sure I’ll see you around the place some time, now I’m living here, but I’m going to be very busy for a while. Thanks anyway. I’d better get back now.’ She rose from the stool, noting out of the corner of her eye that the hard stare was back.
Didn’t like being thwarted, did he?
Bit of a control freak?
She was glad she’d refused the drink, now. He didn’t seem like a man to get tangled up with.
Wayne spoke up, looking towards the door. ‘I think I see a skip lorry just go past. Might be yours.’
‘Oh God. They’ll take it away again! I’d better run.’ And she legged it.
It was hers, and she arrived at the top of School Lane, panting, just as the driver was getting back into his cab.
‘Don’t go! It’s me! I mean, it’s mine!’
He got down again. ‘Gor, you don’t half live in the back of beyond,’ he informed her. ‘Couldn’t find the
Dave gave him a warning glance and said, over-heartily, ‘More than a rumour, my old son. We’ve got the new owner sitting right here. Came in to introduce herself, which I call very friendly and civil.’
The man’s head swivelled round so sharply that Kate was afraid he must have ricked his neck, and the hard eyes were fixed on her in a penetrating stare that made her feel, for a moment, quite uncomfortable. She was aware that she was not presenting herself at her best, and simple pride made her think that if she’d met this man in London with her glad rags on he wouldn’t have looked at her like a prefect looking at an inky new kid. She could have taken him on on his own terms.
‘I’ll do the honours, shall I?’ Dave went on, evidently thinking the stare was not conducive to a happy bar atmosphere. ‘Kate, this is Phil Kingdon. Phil, Kate Jennings, who bought Little’s. Phil’s the land agent for the Blackmore Estate.’
‘How do you do?’ Kate said coolly, keeping her end up.
But suddenly everything changed. The man smiled, his eyes crinkling, the hard stare was history, and a hand was being offered. ‘How do
you
do?’ he said. ‘Pleased to meet you. Sorry if I was a bit abrupt before – I’ve just had a long drive for nothing, so I was feeling a bit ratty. So, Little’s new owner? Let me buy you a drink, introduce you to the village.’
Kate shook the hand (hard, well-manicured), and responded to the smile – why not? She was here to make friends – though she didn’t quite feel it had a spontaneous warmth to it. ‘I’m not a complete stranger here,’ she said.
‘Her dad was from Exford,’ Dave amplified.
‘So I’m half Exmoor,’ Kate went on.
‘I should have known from the name,’ said Phil Kingdon. ‘What’ll you have?’
‘Thanks, but I really have to get back to work,’ Kate said, glancing at the clock over the fireplace. ‘And I’m expecting a skip.’
‘A what?’ Phil said, startled.
‘Kate’s doing all her own work,’ said Dave, with a sort of proprietorial pride that amused her.
‘Hence my scruffy state,’ Kate got in, with a gesture towards her clothes. ‘I scrub up quite nicely, you know.’
Another crinkling smile. ‘I’m sure you do,’ Phil said. ‘Perhaps I can buy you that drink another time? Tonight? Oh, no, wait, I can’t tonight. What about tomorrow night?’
Woah, boy
, Kate thought.
Fast worker
. And she wasn’t here to go out on dates, though it was flattering to get such an instant response. ‘Thanks all the same, but I’m not really fit to go out, after a day working on the cottage,’ she said.
He wasn’t so easily put off. ‘Oh, come on, just a drink. I bet you’ll want to get out of that place for an hour or two. All work and no play, you know. One drink, all right?’ He was giving her the full force of his charm, but she didn’t know anything about him and, given his age and apparently comfortable income, she couldn’t believe he wasn’t married.
‘I’m sure I’ll see you around the place some time, now I’m living here, but I’m going to be very busy for a while. Thanks anyway. I’d better get back now.’ She rose from the stool, noting out of the corner of her eye that the hard stare was back.
Didn’t like being thwarted, did he?
Bit of a control freak?
She was glad she’d refused the drink, now. He didn’t seem like a man to get tangled up with.
Wayne spoke up, looking towards the door. ‘I think I see a skip lorry just go past. Might be yours.’
‘Oh God. They’ll take it away again! I’d better run.’ And she legged it.
It was hers, and she arrived at the top of School Lane, panting, just as the driver was getting back into his cab.
‘Don’t go! It’s me! I mean, it’s mine!’
He got down again. ‘Gor, you don’t half live in the back of beyond,’ he informed her. ‘Couldn’t find the
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