“Let’s have some fish and chips. We passed a kiosk about a hundred yards back and I’m ravenous. It’s the fresh air that does it.”
Roz’s head, tortoise-like, emerged from the collar of her jacket, slowly easing its frozen jaw and skewering him with gimlet eyes.
“Has this heap of junk got an MOT?” she grated.
“Of course it’s got an MOT.” He slapped the steering-wheel.
“She’s sound as a bell, just lacks a window or two. You get used to it after a while.”
“A window or two!” she spluttered.
“As far as I can see it hasn’t got any windows at all except for the front one. I think I’ve caught pneumonia.”
“There’s no pleasing some women. You wouldn’t be whingeing like this if I’d whisked you down to the seaside on a beautiful sunny day in an open-topped cabriolet. You’re being snotty-nosed just because it’s a Cortina.” He gave an evil chuckle.
“And what about suffering being good for the soul? It’s done bugger all for yours, my girl.”
She thrust the screeching door open as far as it would go and crawled out.
“For your information, Hawksley, it is not a beautiful sunny day’ she giggled ‘in fact it will probably turn out to be the coldest May day this century. And had this been a convertible, we could have stopped to put the top up. In any case, why aren’t there any windows?”
He tucked her into the crook of his arm and set off towards the fish and chip kiosk.
“Someone smashed them,” he said matter of factly.
“I haven’t bothered to replace them because there’s a good chance it will happen again.”
She rubbed the end of her nose to restore the circulation.
“I suppose you’re in hock to loan sharks.”
“And if I am?”
She thought of her money on deposit, untouched, going nowhere.
“I might be able to broker you out of your difficulties,” she suggested tentatively.
He frowned.
“Is this charity, Roz, or an offer to negotiate?”
“It’s not charity,” she assured him.
“My accountant would have a fit if I offered charity.”
He dropped his arm abruptly.
“Why would you want to negotiate on my behalf? You don’t know a damn thing about me.” He sounded angry.
She shrugged.
“I know you’re in deep shit, Hawksley. I’m offering to help you out of it. Is that so terrible?” She walked on.
Hal, a step or two behind, cursed himself roundly. What sort of fool lowered his de fences just because a woman looked lonely? But loneliness, of course, was the one thing guaranteed to strike a chord.
There must have been times when he hadn’t been lonely but he was damned, at the moment, if he could remember them.
Roz’s delight in the cottage, masked by an unconvincing smile of bored indifference, announced itself loudly as she stared wide-eyed at the views from the windows, noted the double glazing admitted grudgingly that, yes, she had always liked open fireplaces, and, yes, she was quite surprised by the size of the rooms. She had expected them to be smaller. She poked for several minutes round the patioed garden, said it was a pity there wasn’t a greenhouse, then, rather belatedly, obscured her enthusiasm behind a pair of dark glasses to examine a small rose-covered outhouse which was used by the present owners as a third bedroom, but which might, she supposed, at a pinch, serve as a sort of study-library.
Hal and Mr. Richards sat on cast-iron chairs in front of the french windows, talking idly about very little and watching her.
Mr. Richards, thoroughly intimidated by Hal’s brusque one word answers, scented a sale but contained his excitement rather better than Roz.
He stood up when Roz had finished her inspection and, with a disarming smile, offered her his chair.
“I should perhaps have mentioned, Miss Leigh, that the present owners will consider selling the furniture with the house assuming, of course, a satisfactory price can be arranged. I understand none of it is more than four years old and the wear and tear has been minimal with weekend occupation only.” He glanced at his watch.
“Why don’t I give you fifteen minutes to talk it over?
I’ll go for a stroll along the cliff path.” He vanished tactfully through the french windows and a moment later they heard the front door close.
Roz took off her glasses and looked at Hal. Her eyes were childlike in their enthusiasm.
“What do you think? Furniture, too.
