Michael. It was hell today – the residents had this sort of council of war meeting, and they’ve all put their faith in me.’ She stopped talking and clamped her hand over her mouth. ‘I shouldn’t be telling you this. You’re the enemy.’
‘I’m not the enemy, Evie.’
‘You are, though. Unless you’ve decided to withdraw your plans and leave Cupid’s Way alone.’
‘I can’t do that. And as I said earlier, if not us …’
‘Someone worse,’ she finished. She pulled away from him and took up a position on the far end of the squashy sofa. Her eyes felt gritty and her back was aching. She blinked with wet lashes, and smoothed her skirt down over her knees. She said, ‘Well, I’m going to fight you, Mr Dynamite Construction. I’m going to find a way to save my grandparents’ home. Cupid’s Way is here to stay.’
‘That sounds like a slogan,’ he said, grinning. ‘You can have it printed on T-shirts.’
‘I might just do that.’
‘And where does this leave us?’
‘Us?’ Evie gave him a blank look, although she knew exactly what he was saying.
He narrowed his eyes, and she felt herself being drawn towards him, imperceptibly but irrevocably.
‘There can’t be any us, Michael. Not while we’re on opposite sides of this.’
‘Does it have to be that way? Couldn’t we just put it aside? Talk about other things, have fun, spend time together?’
She shook her head. ‘You might be able to do that, but I can’t.’
‘So it’s all or nothing with you, is it?’
Evie thought about it, then nodded. ‘Yes. It is. I’m never going to compromise my principles again. It’s just not worth it.’
She stood up to leave, thinking that having made such a definitive statement there was really no point in hanging around. Michael stood too, and she took his jacket from her shoulders and handed it back. She couldn’t meet his eyes.
‘Evie,’ he said as she headed for the door. She stopped and turned around. ‘You asked me to level with you, so I’m going to tell you something about Cupid’s Way. Dynamite already own one of the houses. The empty one, number three. We bought it from Sandy Beaumont’s daughter last year. And, Evie – some of the residents have already approached me and expressed an interest in selling. I just thought you should know because … Because I want to try and be fair.’
Evie whirled around and stalked away, the image of Michael’s pained expression imprinted on her mind. Fair. There was nothing fair about this. But there was one thing she was certain of. He wasn’t the kind of man who would walk away from this, no matter how much he liked her. She was going to have to think of something else.
Chapter 10
Early Monday morning, Evie woke to the sound of sobbing. She lay in bed, disorientated, and looked at the digits on the clock by her bed. 05:46. Not her favourite time to be awake.
She slid out of bed and pulled on her gran’s spare dressing gown – a towelling, floor-length robe in a vivid shade of pink. She scraped back the curtains. Outside, the gardens were lit by a sickly yellow street lamp. A cat – two cats – yelped in the distance. Evie left the curtains open and went to investigate the source of the sobbing.
The sound had stopped now, but she figured it had come from downstairs. She descended, treading carefully in the dim light. When she reached the bottom she held on to the newel post and leaned forward. Number eleven Cupid’s Way was so small she could see from the stairs into the living room and then on to the kitchen. There was no one in the living room. She stepped down and crept towards the kitchen door.
Mavis was sitting on the single kitchen chair with her back to the doorway, her outline picked out by the faint glow of the blue LED display on the cooker. She was hunched over and wrapped in a blanket. A glance at the fireplace told Evie that the fire needed rekindling.
She was just about to speak when Mavis said something in a
‘I’m not the enemy, Evie.’
‘You are, though. Unless you’ve decided to withdraw your plans and leave Cupid’s Way alone.’
‘I can’t do that. And as I said earlier, if not us …’
‘Someone worse,’ she finished. She pulled away from him and took up a position on the far end of the squashy sofa. Her eyes felt gritty and her back was aching. She blinked with wet lashes, and smoothed her skirt down over her knees. She said, ‘Well, I’m going to fight you, Mr Dynamite Construction. I’m going to find a way to save my grandparents’ home. Cupid’s Way is here to stay.’
‘That sounds like a slogan,’ he said, grinning. ‘You can have it printed on T-shirts.’
‘I might just do that.’
‘And where does this leave us?’
‘Us?’ Evie gave him a blank look, although she knew exactly what he was saying.
He narrowed his eyes, and she felt herself being drawn towards him, imperceptibly but irrevocably.
‘There can’t be any us, Michael. Not while we’re on opposite sides of this.’
‘Does it have to be that way? Couldn’t we just put it aside? Talk about other things, have fun, spend time together?’
She shook her head. ‘You might be able to do that, but I can’t.’
‘So it’s all or nothing with you, is it?’
Evie thought about it, then nodded. ‘Yes. It is. I’m never going to compromise my principles again. It’s just not worth it.’
She stood up to leave, thinking that having made such a definitive statement there was really no point in hanging around. Michael stood too, and she took his jacket from her shoulders and handed it back. She couldn’t meet his eyes.
‘Evie,’ he said as she headed for the door. She stopped and turned around. ‘You asked me to level with you, so I’m going to tell you something about Cupid’s Way. Dynamite already own one of the houses. The empty one, number three. We bought it from Sandy Beaumont’s daughter last year. And, Evie – some of the residents have already approached me and expressed an interest in selling. I just thought you should know because … Because I want to try and be fair.’
Evie whirled around and stalked away, the image of Michael’s pained expression imprinted on her mind. Fair. There was nothing fair about this. But there was one thing she was certain of. He wasn’t the kind of man who would walk away from this, no matter how much he liked her. She was going to have to think of something else.
Chapter 10
Early Monday morning, Evie woke to the sound of sobbing. She lay in bed, disorientated, and looked at the digits on the clock by her bed. 05:46. Not her favourite time to be awake.
She slid out of bed and pulled on her gran’s spare dressing gown – a towelling, floor-length robe in a vivid shade of pink. She scraped back the curtains. Outside, the gardens were lit by a sickly yellow street lamp. A cat – two cats – yelped in the distance. Evie left the curtains open and went to investigate the source of the sobbing.
The sound had stopped now, but she figured it had come from downstairs. She descended, treading carefully in the dim light. When she reached the bottom she held on to the newel post and leaned forward. Number eleven Cupid’s Way was so small she could see from the stairs into the living room and then on to the kitchen. There was no one in the living room. She stepped down and crept towards the kitchen door.
Mavis was sitting on the single kitchen chair with her back to the doorway, her outline picked out by the faint glow of the blue LED display on the cooker. She was hunched over and wrapped in a blanket. A glance at the fireplace told Evie that the fire needed rekindling.
She was just about to speak when Mavis said something in a
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