Marcus nodded. ‘I’ll be off, then. I’m at work tonight. Are you interested if there is any more cake leftover?’
‘Absolutely! And Marcus?’
He looked at her questioningly.
‘Thanks again for your help. And remember what I said, pop in and see Buddy any time.’
He nodded. ‘Thanks.’
Well, she’d manged that okay, Hattie thought when Marcus had left. At least they were back to being friends. And that’s the way she intended to keep it.
Chapter Forty-Three
Lady Thomwell phoned Marcus on Monday afternoon to say that his painting of Hattie had won first prize. ‘It got a lot of attention. There are a couple of people wanting to buy it. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to sell it, though.’
No he didn’t. He had intended to frame it and hang it over his fireplace but now he didn’t think he could bear to see it every day when Hattie had gone, taking his heart with her. He still didn’t want to sell it, though. It was too personal. Perhaps he’d frame it and keep it in his attic.
‘No, it isn’t for sale,’ he said.
‘What about the painting of the parrot? I’ve got someone interested in that too.’
‘No, that’s not for sale either.’ Perhaps he’d put the painting of Buddy over his fireplace.
He could hear Lady Thomwell’s tuts down the phone. ‘You’re never going to have a lucrative career as an artist, Marcus, if you won’t sell your paintings.’
‘I will sell them. Just not those two.’ They meant too much to him. He didn’t expect Lady Thomwell to understand; money was more important to her than it was to him.
Lady Thomwell told him that the exhibitors wanted to keep both paintings on display for another two weeks and wanted Marcus to come down to accept the prize money personally.
‘Please come, the publicity will be good for you. Rupert is coming too. But don’t worry, Estelle has gone back to Paris now, dear, so you don’t have to worry about her pulling a trick like that again,’ she said. ‘I hope your girlfriend wasn’t too upset.’
So, she had seen Estelle kiss him. ‘No, she knows there was nothing in it.’
‘Good. Now, congratulations on your win. You should be very proud. And please say you will come down to meet the exhibition team and to claim your prize at the end of the month. Bring your girlfriend too.’
Why not? The hotel would change his shifts if he gave them notice, and it would be a break. ‘Yes, I’ll come,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure about Hattie, she’s moving soon.’
Lady Thomwell was delighted. ‘You can travel with us, Rupert would be thrilled. We can all stay at the same hotel too and go out for dinner in the evening. There are a few people who want to meet you. Do try to get Hattie to come as well, after all she’s the star of the show so to speak.’
He sighed. He hated stuff like this and Lady Thomwell knew it, but she was right – it was good for his career. So he agreed he’d try to talk Hattie into coming. Part of him wanted her to come too, it would give him chance to see her again. The trouble was, she had no idea that the painting existed.
When the phone call was finished, Marcus’s thoughts drifted to Hattie and how the hell he was going to tell her that he had secretly painted a portrait of her that had just won first prize and that Lady Thomwell wanted her to accompany him to collect it at the end of the month.
‘Next week?’ Hattie asked, her heart thumping. This was too soon. Much too soon.
‘The buyers want to complete next week so they have chance to refurbish the cottage,’ her solicitor told her. ‘Everything is in place so there’s nothing to stop you. I’ve already left a message for your father to see if he could come over this weekend and sign the necessary papers.’
‘This weekend!’ Hattie felt stupid repeating his words but she couldn’t take them in. She hadn’t expected this. The Bryants had always pushed for an earlier completion, though, and now there was nothing stopping them. Of course she could refuse.
‘Would it be possible?’ the solicitor asked.
She could hear beeps indicating an incoming call and guessed it was her dad. ‘I think Dad’s trying to get through, so let me talk to him and I’ll call you back.’
She ended the call and accepted the incoming one. It was her dad.
‘I’ve had a message from the solicitor, he wants to know if we will agree for the sale to go through next week,’.
‘I know. I was talking to him when you were trying to get through,’ she told him.
As she listened to the relief and excitement in her dad’s voice as he said he couldn’t believe the sale had gone through so quickly, that he could come over on Friday and stay for a few days, help Hattie finish clearing the house, she knew that she couldn’t refuse. He needed this money and what difference did a week make? Mali would be fine with it. And Hattie had to leave anyway, why not get it over with. So she agreed.
When the phone call had ended, she had tears in her eyes. She wiped them on the back of her hand and went over to Buddy. ‘Well, that’s us out of here in just over a week, Buddy. What do you think of that, then?’
He fixed his beady eyes on her, opened his beak and squawked, ‘Bloody Hell!’
‘My sentiments exactly,’ she agreed.
She pulled herself together and phoned Mali to tell her the news.
‘Honey, are you sure about this? You’re more than welcome here, but you love that cottage. I can hear the sadness in your voice. And what about Marcus?’
‘I’ve told you there is no Marcus. We’re just friends.’
‘I still think you should tell your dad how you feel before the sale
