Hot Property (Irish romantic comedy) (11 page)

BOOK: Hot Property (Irish romantic comedy)
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Diana’s eyes narrowed. “We have to get to the bottom of this. It must have been malicious. Is someone trying to get you to sell?”

Megan sighed. “Just about everyone. Beata thinks I’m nuts. Dan thinks I should sell and buy a smaller place. The Quinn brothers are leaning on me, saying they’ll make me an offer. Paudie—” She thought for a moment. “Actually, he hasn’t said anything at all. He’s the only one who leaves me alone.”

“Very restful person, really, isn’t he?” Diana looked at Megan’s hand. “Oh! You found it. The ring. Let me have a look.”

Megan took off the ring. “Yes. They found it when they dug the hole for the new septic tank. It was so dirty, I didn’t know what it was at first. I found the necklace too. It’s beautiful.”

Diana studied the ring. “Gorgeous. A bit rough but that’s because it’s so old. Here, put it back on. But are you sure you should be wearing it all the time like this? I mean, is it safe?”

Megan put the ring back on her finger. “I don’t care. It feels as if I’ve worn it always. I feel naked without it.”

Diana glanced at it. “But you’re not wearing it the right way. If you’re attached…”

“I’m not. Well, as you know I’m seeing someone but I don’t feel ‘attached’ to him. Yet.”

Diana nodded. “Quite right. Take it slowly, and make sure it’s the real thing. The ring is beautiful. Maybe it’ll bring you luck.” She started the engine of the jeep. “Okay, I’ll take these horses back home. We can have a look again in a couple of days. Pity. The grass is so sweet here.”

There was thumping sound from the horsebox attached to the jeep. “Please,” Megan said. “Can I see the foal?”

Diana switched off the engine. “Okay, why not? Open the front door of the box and you can have a peek. But be careful. That mare nips a bit.”

Megan walked to the horsebox and carefully opened the little door at the front. The grey mare pushed her muzzle toward Megan’s outstretched hand and let out a small snort. Beside her, the black foal looked on with wide eyes. “Hello,” Megan whispered, touching the silky coat. The foal sniffed at her hand, then hid behind his mother. The mare looked back at him, then gave Megan’s hand a little shove, as if to say ‘enough peeking’. Megan breathed in the smell of hay and horse and withdrew her head. She closed the door with a little sigh of regret. “Thanks,” she said to Diana, standing beside her. “They’re beautiful.”

Diana put the catch back on the door. “Hard work but worth it. When you breed a winner, it’s better than winning a million euros in the lotto. But that doesn’t happen very often, of course. It’s the beef cattle that make our living. These beautiful creatures are less of a certainty. But horses are my first love. Don’t make me much money. We just about break even, but what a bore life would be without them.” She shook herself. “Enough blathering. Got to go. Don’t worry about this. It’ll be okay in a couple of days. Especially if it rains. You can always be sure it will here.”

“That’s true.”

A blue van with a plumber’s logo on the side drove up and pulled in behind Diana. The driver leaned his head out the window. “Morning! Can we drive in through the gate and park at the back door? Easier to get the material in that way. If that jeep and horsebox aren’t going to stay, that is.”

“Of course,” Megan replied. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“Thanks.” The driver wrinkled his nose. “Holy Mary, the slurry’s bad today. What did they use? Extra strength?”

“Yeah.” Megan sighed. “They nuked it.”

“I’d better get going. See you soon, love.” Diana waved and expertly backed the jeep and horsebox into the road and drove off.

The van pulled in through the gate. Megan got ready for her day at The Blue Door as the plumbers didn’t waste any time ripping out pipes and boring holes in the walls.

She left the smell and noise behind her and drove down the road towards Castlegregory, her mind on all that had happened during the morning.
Who is it? Who is doing their best to get me to leave?”

~ ~ ~

“Who could have reported me?” Megan asked Beata the next morning. “Only Dan and Paudie know about me collecting dole. And neither of them would have told on me.”

Beata shrugged. “Who knows? My bet is on the Quinn brothers. They might have seen you. Or one of their friends or something.”

Megan stuffed a sheet into the washing machine. “I think you’re right. And then the slurry yesterday. That was done maliciously. A ploy to make me sell the house.”

“Of course. Houses around here are like gold dust these days. And yours is a gem. There isn’t a square foot available for rent during the summer months here. If you don’t sell, you could make a lot of money renting out your place in July and August next year.”

Megan looked at Beata. “Yes. That’s true. I might consider that. If I find somewhere to stay during those months. Or I could always go to Dublin and stay with my mother for a few weeks at least.”

“If you can bear it.”

~ ~ ~

She hadn’t come to any conclusion by the end of that day. Having packed a bag with enough clothes for a few days, she drove to Paudie’s house, still trying to figure out who was trying to drive her out.

She forgot all about it when she got out of the car. The haunting sound of a melody being played on a flute hung in the still air. Paudie sat on the stone wall of the little back garden, playing his tin whistle, lost to the world around him.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was so still, so complete, somehow. Denis, his leg bandaged, lay at his master’s feet. The mountains rising above the fields, against the sky tinged with pink, made the perfect backdrop.

Megan stood, listening to the music, taking in the scene. She didn’t want to move or talk, didn’t want this moment to end.

Paudie stopped playing and lifted his face to the sky. Then Megan saw his tears.

Chapter 11

Megan inched back to her car, got in and gently closed the door. After waiting a few minutes, she opened the door again and shouted, “Hello!”

Paudie ran his hand over his face. Smiling at Megan, he jumped off the wall. “Hi there. Are you here already? I sat here, fiddling around with some music.”

“I didn’t know you played the tin whistle.”

He looked at the little metal flute in his hand. “Yeah. Learned to play when I was about seven. My mother taught me. She was very much into Irish music. She had a lovely voice.”

“Maybe you’ll play me a tune sometime?”

He put the tin whistle in his pocket. “Maybe. But not that one.”

“It reminded you of your mother?” Megan asked as gently as she could.

Paudie nodded. “Yes. Funny how it always brings me back to her. She died when I was twenty. Long time ago now, but…”

Megan took his hand. “I know. I lost my dad a few years ago. I’ll never stop missing him. Were you close to your mother?”

“Yes.” He straightened his shoulders, as if to rid himself of sad thoughts. “You have to turn your mind away when you get into that kind of mood. So we won’t talk about it anymore.” He took her bag. “I put some sheets in the spare room behind the kitchen. It’s nice and warm from the stove and very quiet.”

“Great.” She patted Denis. “How is he? I see he isn’t putting that paw down at all.”

“No, he’s a little bit sore. The vet stitched the wound and gave him antibiotics. He’ll be all right in a few days. But go on, you’ll be late. Is Nolan picking you up?”

Megan picked up her pace. “Yes. He’ll be here in about twenty minutes.”

The room was small, bare and clean. The wrought-iron bed had a thick mattress covered with a quilt of many colours. The rest of the furniture consisted of an old chest of drawers with brass knobs, a chair and hooks on the wall for hanging clothes. The window overlooked the little garden at the back. Megan took the sheets and made the bed. She grabbed the towel hanging on the wall and tiptoed to the bathroom. After a quick shower, she padded back to her room to get ready for the evening with Dan.

When she came into the kitchen, she found Paudie at the table with a laptop. He looked up. “All bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I see. Not quite the outfit for an evening on the town, though.”

Megan glanced down at her jeans and runners. “We’re going to the beach. There’ll be some big waves at the back beach this evening, they said. With good wind for windsurfing and kite surfing too. So there’s a lot going on.”

“And you’ll be watching the show?”

“Yes. And then we’ll have a picnic with the others. It’s great fun. People from all over Europe are here this weekend.” She glanced at his computer. “What are you doing? Another kind of surfing?”

He looked at the screen. “No. I’m doing my accounts and looking up
The Irish Field
. I’m not into that Facebook stuff. But I’m sure you have a large following.”

Megan shrugged. “Used to. I’ve kind of forgotten about the Internet since I came here. Haven’t even switched on my laptop. It’s as if it would break the spell.”

He looked up at her. “The spell?”

“Yes. We seem so far away from all that stuff here. The Internet. Twitter. Facebook. Doesn’t seem important or relevant. I don’t even watch TV. I listen to the news on my little radio, but sometimes I even forget to do that. The world outside Dingle doesn’t seem to matter much.”

Paudie smiled and shook his head. “You’re turning into a real Kerrywoman. But when winter comes, you’ll change your mind. The winter storms will force you indoors. Then you’ll have to think of some way to amuse yourself.”

“Maybe.” She sat down at the table and propped her chin in her hands. “But then I could take up weaving or knitting Aran sweaters. Those traditional Irish knits are very popular all over the world. I might even sell them on eBay. Or I might just get stuck into the books I’ve been promising myself to read.”

“That should keep you busy.” He cocked his head “Is that Nolan’s car outside?”

Megan didn’t stir. “Probably. I’ll be off in a minute.”

“Letting him wait, are we?” Paudie winked. “Not letting him think you’re that eager?”

Megan laughed. “Yeah, why not? ‘Treat ‘
em
like shit,’ Beata says. Not you,” she added, putting a hand on his arm. “You’re my friend.”

He put his hand on hers. “And you’re mine, Meg. Don’t you ever forget that.”

The door opened. They looked up as Dan entered, a gush of col air blowing in behind him.

There was a long silence. Then, without getting up or letting go of Megan’s hand, Paudie spoke. “Evening, Mr Nolan, sir. What brings you to my humble abode?”

Ignoring Paudie, Dan looked at Megan. “Are you ready? We have to get going. The surf’s up and everyone’s waiting.”

The tension was palpable in the kitchen. Megan could see Paudie’s jaw tightening. She got up. “Yes. I’m ready.”

Dan took a step back. “Okay. Let’s go, then. Come on.”

“Ordering the lady around, Mr Nolan?” Paudie’s voice was as smooth as silk. “I don’t think she takes to being bossed.”

“Is that any of your business, Paudie O’Shea?”

Confused by the hostility, Megan looked from one the other. What was going on? With a feeling a fight was in the air, she got up, grabbed her sweater from a chair and walked to the door. She took Dan’s arm. “Come on, we’re late.”

Still glaring at Paudie, Dan reluctantly followed her through the door.

“Bye, Paudie,” Megan called over her shoulder.

“Don’t wait up,” Dan added, his voice dripping with irony. “We’ll probably be very late.”

“What was that all about?” Megan asked when they drove off.

Dan changed gears with unnecessary force, making the gearbox screech. “Nothing,” he said between his teeth. “Except some stuff that will never get buried.”

~ ~ ~

Megan took off her shoes and slowly opened the back door. She peered inside and listened. All was quiet. Denis slept on his blanket by the stove, but lifted his head as she padded inside. He wagged his tail but didn’t get up.

Megan put her hand on his head. “
Shh
, we don’t want to wake Paudie.”

Denis yawned and closed his eyes. “Good boy,” Megan whispered, and tiptoed out of the kitchen. She made her way down the corridor toward the guest room, slipping out of her jacket as she went. Yawning, she pulled off her sweater and started to unbutton her shirt. Exhausted after a long evening of talking, singing, laughing and walking on the beach, she just wanted to get in between the sheets, put her head on the pillow and go to sleep. It had been a fun evening, which ended with a long kissing session in Dan’s car just outside the gates. It was as if he was willing Paudie to come out and find them there. But nothing happened and Megan finally pulled away.

She put her fingers to her lips, where the warmth of his kisses still lingered. He may not be such a great lover but he’s a hell of a kisser, she thought sleepily. Her shirt open, she was just about to open the door to her room, when there was a noise further down the corridor. She turned her head and discovered Paudie, naked except for his pyjama pants, coming out of the bathroom.

He stopped in his tracks. “Well, hello, there. What time do you call this?”

Megan looked at her watch. “It’s one thirty in the morning.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “That’s a little late, isn’t it? Or early if you prefer.”

“I suppose. But so what? We had fun. Then we went on talking in the car.”

Paudie came closer. “Talking?” He peered at her. “Is that why you have a hickey on your neck?”

Megan felt her face redden. “Don’t know what you mean.” She put her hand to her neck. “It’s a scratch from a branch. Must have happened when we were walking…”

“Oh yes,” Paudie drawled. “Must have.”

He was now so close Megan could feel his warm breath on her face and smell the soap he used. His naked chest nearly touched her breasts. She pulled at her shirt and inched away, her breathing oddly laboured and her face hotter still. “Well, I think it’s time for bed…”

He didn’t move. “Yes,” he murmured. “Maybe it is.”

Rooted to the spot, Megan found herself mesmerised by the look in his eyes and the sheer nearness of him. “Good night,” she whispered as she slowly came to her senses.

He touched her face. “Good night. Sweet dreams.” He disappeared into his room and closed the door.

Megan stood there for a while, trying to get her breathing back to normal and her legs to obey her. What happened? she wondered. What was that all about? She shook her head. He was probably just tired and perhaps a little drunk. They’d be back to normal in the morning.

Finally in bed, she was aware of Paudie’s presence in the next room, and in her thoughts.

~ ~ ~

When the plumbers were finished, Megan moved back into her house. She missed Paudie’s company, but being away from his sharp eyes and his quick assessment of her moods was a relief. She also had a feeling there had been a slight shift in their relationship, which made her feel uncomfortable.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay another few days?” he asked when he saw her packing up.

“No thanks. I have to be there when the glazier comes to do the windows, and then my house will be more weatherproof and more comfortable. I have to learn to live on my own there, Paudie.”

He nodded. “Very true. I’ll miss your chatter though.”

“I’ll miss you too. But I’m only down the road, so we’ll see each other often all the same.”

She drove off, leaving him standing at the gate, looking a little forlorn.

The B and B was full and Megan had to spend extra hours helping out and taking bookings on Beata’s computer. Boris had become lazy and uncooperative, which made Beata bad-tempered and impatient.

“He’s never here in the evenings anymore,” she complained. “I don’t know where he goes, and I don’t care, but now I have to do all the boring chores myself. And then I’m so exhausted, I don’t even wake up when he crawls into bed.”

“Have you asked him where he goes?” Megan said.

Beata nodded. “Yes. He just says he’s doing something important for himself.” She shrugged. “I don’t know what he means. I don’t really understand the way Russians think.”

“I’m sure he’ll explain it one day.” Megan turned back to the computer, where she was checking e-mails for new bookings.

“Yeah. Maybe.” Beata resumed emptying the dishwasher then stopped and looked at Megan bleakly. “But what if he’s doing some kind of extra job to save money for a ticket back to Russia? What will I do then?”

“Why do you say that? And why would you care? You act as if you hate him most of the time.”

Beata shrugged. “I know and I do. But he’s so handy to have around, you know?”

Megan smirked. “Yeah, right. You have no feelings for him at all?”

“I don’t. None at all.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Please. Stop going on about it.” Beata clattered the dishes. “How are things with you? Danny boy still wonderful?”

“Haven’t seen him much, to be honest. But I’ve been so busy here and with the house, I haven’t much time to go out.”

BOOK: Hot Property (Irish romantic comedy)
11.81Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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