‘Hello, I’m sorry I startled you earlier.’ It seemed the cute burglar had other ideas. ‘I’m April Statham.’ She held out a hand out, but it was to Cillian. He went to shake it, tactfully brushing off the spider web that was hanging from her fingertips. She blushed, and Cillian felt a faint bloom of warmth in his chest. She met his eyes before she spoke again. ‘I’m the new owner.’
Yes! a little voice inside his head said. Cillian opened his mouth to welcome her, maybe even ask her what the plans for the place were, but Martha was in like Flynn with her questioning.
‘Yooouuuu?’ She dragged the word out as her voice got higher and higher. By the end, dogs were heard barking outside. ‘You bought this place? Just you?’ April nodded patiently, looking from one to the other with a tight expression plastered across her features. ‘With what, brass buttons?’
‘I don’t really think that this is any of your business to be honest, but—’
‘Well, whose business is it then? As a resident, I have rights, I’ll have you know! It’s not right, picking on a vulnerable woman alone!’ Cillian and April both looked at her, not a drop of sweat dripping from her brow, her clothing and hair still immaculate, apron streaked with what Cillian could now see was paint, in different shades of pinks and reds. She looked a little like Leatherface, still swinging the hefty bat in her hands. In comparison, looking at dusty, dishevelled April and her rather haunted expression, Cillian was pretty sure it wasn’t going to end well.
‘Resident?’ April echoed, looking bewildered. ‘Resident of what?’
Cillian heard the gulp of air Martha took in, and he intervened before she got back into full flow.
‘Er yes, a resident. The old manager had an arrangement with Martha. She lives here year-round, rents chalet 1, across the way.’ He pointed in the vague area of Martha’s chalet, not trusting the women enough to take his eyes off them. ‘I thought you would have known that.’
April sighed heavily. ‘No, I didn’t, but it’s not the first time I’ve been duped. So do you have a rent book?’
Martha’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits. ‘Yes, of course I have, and I pay in advance. Will that be a problem?’
April brushed her hair back from her face, and Cillian noticed that she had a spider crawling down her elbow. He leaned in a little, brushing it off with his arm. April jolted at the side of him, but didn’t move. She was still looking at Martha.
‘That’s fine,’ she said eventually. ‘I can sort out the paperwork and everything once I’m settled in.’ Looking around her at the derelict office, which didn’t have a scrap of paper, let alone a phone or a computer, her words tailed off. ‘It might er … take me a minute.’
Martha made a high-pitched ‘huh’ sound in her throat.
‘Thank you for coming, Cillian, I do appreciate it. Miss Statham? It is miss, isn’t it?’
April thought for a moment, before nodding. Cillian found himself releasing the breath he was holding captive in his lungs. He thought for a second his face had been injured in the kerfuffle, but then he realised he was grinning. He dropped his face back down into neutral before anyone noticed.
‘Miss Statham, I shall be ready with my rent book whenever you want to call on me.’ She went to leave, but paused as she eyed the broken front door. ‘If you are truly the owner, I would recommend hiring young Cillian here. He worked here before the old manager Tim ground the place down. He knows his way around.’ She looked around her, and Cillian noticed the way her whole body sagged as though defeated somehow. ‘It would be something to see this place nice again.’ She was nearly out of the room, when she turned. ‘Don’t forget, Cillian, this isn’t just any live-in position. You deserve to be paid well too. I shall be checking, Miss Statham.’ Giving Cillian a sideways look, she left. The two of them were left alone and Cillian felt obliged to fill the silence.
‘I’m sorry about the misunderstanding, I really am. Martha called, told me that there was an intruder.’ Nothing. April was still staring at the space that Martha had just left. ‘Are you okay?’
She turned to him, and he could see she was there, but her mind was very much elsewhere. He pulled one of his last remaining business cards out of his back pocket.
‘I am looking for work as it goes, so if you do need anything, let me know.’
She looked at the card, then back at him.
‘You really worked here before? As what?’
‘Bit of everything really. I moved here from Ireland a few years back, picked up some local work. I’m qualified in most things. Here I just did maintenance, bit of renovations here and there, heavy lifting, that sort of thing. The chalet park was a quiet place; the reception used to house the onsite shop, selling the bits the clients wanted, dealing with bookings, check-ins, you know. There used to be a games room too, but over time Tim got lazy, and the owners not being around to check on it, it just got … tired I suppose. When I asked, the money was never there for anything more than a patch-up. When are you reopening?’
One look at his prospective new boss, and Cillian knew she didn’t have a clue. The woman hadn’t even unpacked, let alone launched a revamp.
‘Err … I don’t know, soon, I know that! I need this summer to go well. I’m sort of banking on it.’
March already, Cillian thought to himself. It would take a hell of a lot of work to get this place up and running. Long days, most nights even. Great for
