obviously freshly decorated. Mayhew informed us that there were two bedrooms and a small bathroom upstairs, if I’d like to take a look. But somehow, I didn’t like. For no real reason, I couldn’t imagine living here, even for two weeks. And it was so dark. Of course, most of the old cottages in this particular row were dark because there were so few windows. These seamen’s houses had been built for shelter against winter gales and storms, not sunny summer holidays. The only view was of another cottage opposite, now empty, and encased in scaffolding. Shabby, with peeling paintwork and neglected damp grey walls, it was obviously undergoing extensive renovation. I imagined workmen on the scaffolding all day, looking into my little sitting room. I tried to see myself living here, listening to constant noise, clatter and shouts from the small building site just yards across the narrow path, and I shuddered.
When I looked at Danny he was frowning, and shook his head. He’d picked up on my mood. He didn’t like it either. I squared up to Mr Mayhew. ‘Sorry, but I don’t think this one is right for me.’
He looked put out. ‘Oh, but you haven’t seen the upstairs yet, which is so pretty. I know it’s small, but you have to admit it’s quaint, and so atmospheric.’
‘No, my mind’s made up. You did say you had another place to show me?’
Nettled, the agent pushed open the door, let us out and locked up noisily behind him, with a bad-tempered twist of the wrist. He then led the way, pushing on through the Warren, while my heart sank. For the first time I began to see how ill-considered my impulsive decision had been. In my state of mind, there was every reason to expect the next property would be equally as depressing. If so, I would have to go back to Coombe and Adam with my tail between my legs, my dream of finding Joey in tatters, and my failure to jump the first hurdle of finding somewhere to live in Polperro proof of Adam’s conviction that I was the victim of a stubborn and impossible delusion.
After a few steps, Mayhew seemed to reconsider his petulance. He turned round and beamed at me. ‘Well, well, I’m sorry that cottage wasn’t to your liking, Mrs Gabriel. I can quite understand it, of course. Although many of my clients love it, finding it quite charming and picturesque, it is a little on the small side, and rather dark if you are hoping for a sunny sea view.’ He smiled to himself. ‘And I think, I do think, that I have the perfect place for you, my dear. I think you’ll love it.’
Danny and I glanced at each other, rolling our eyes. I was glad he was here. I’m not sure I could have coped with smarmy Mayhew on my own. By now, I may well have run back to the car park and called the whole thing off.
We walked briskly on down the path, past Sunny Corner, a cottage that vividly caught the sun. I wish I could rent that one , I thought wistfully, but alas Sunny Corner was spoken for. After a few more minutes, the view opened up and to our right the sea appeared, stunningly blue and silver. I stopped for a moment, my spirits suddenly soaring. Ahead of me, Mr Mayhew was talking again.
‘So, up there on the cliff are some of the most beautiful houses on this part of the coast,’ he said. I caught up with him, interested now. He pointed up to the left. ‘That’s The Watchers, and next to it is Seaways. Did you know that when they built it, they had to use donkeys to pull the stone up the cliff?’
Seaways, a giddily steep rocky climb up from here, looked breathtakingly lovely. I imagined, and envied, the astonishing view of the ocean the house must command.
A few yards further on, Mayhew abruptly stopped. ‘And this, my dear, is Hope. I think it’s just what you’re looking for. It’s not usually rented out, but there are… unusual circumstances.’
And there, a dozen steps up from the coastal path, set back in a lovely garden bursting with summer flowers and shrubs and enclosed by a
When I looked at Danny he was frowning, and shook his head. He’d picked up on my mood. He didn’t like it either. I squared up to Mr Mayhew. ‘Sorry, but I don’t think this one is right for me.’
He looked put out. ‘Oh, but you haven’t seen the upstairs yet, which is so pretty. I know it’s small, but you have to admit it’s quaint, and so atmospheric.’
‘No, my mind’s made up. You did say you had another place to show me?’
Nettled, the agent pushed open the door, let us out and locked up noisily behind him, with a bad-tempered twist of the wrist. He then led the way, pushing on through the Warren, while my heart sank. For the first time I began to see how ill-considered my impulsive decision had been. In my state of mind, there was every reason to expect the next property would be equally as depressing. If so, I would have to go back to Coombe and Adam with my tail between my legs, my dream of finding Joey in tatters, and my failure to jump the first hurdle of finding somewhere to live in Polperro proof of Adam’s conviction that I was the victim of a stubborn and impossible delusion.
After a few steps, Mayhew seemed to reconsider his petulance. He turned round and beamed at me. ‘Well, well, I’m sorry that cottage wasn’t to your liking, Mrs Gabriel. I can quite understand it, of course. Although many of my clients love it, finding it quite charming and picturesque, it is a little on the small side, and rather dark if you are hoping for a sunny sea view.’ He smiled to himself. ‘And I think, I do think, that I have the perfect place for you, my dear. I think you’ll love it.’
Danny and I glanced at each other, rolling our eyes. I was glad he was here. I’m not sure I could have coped with smarmy Mayhew on my own. By now, I may well have run back to the car park and called the whole thing off.
We walked briskly on down the path, past Sunny Corner, a cottage that vividly caught the sun. I wish I could rent that one , I thought wistfully, but alas Sunny Corner was spoken for. After a few more minutes, the view opened up and to our right the sea appeared, stunningly blue and silver. I stopped for a moment, my spirits suddenly soaring. Ahead of me, Mr Mayhew was talking again.
‘So, up there on the cliff are some of the most beautiful houses on this part of the coast,’ he said. I caught up with him, interested now. He pointed up to the left. ‘That’s The Watchers, and next to it is Seaways. Did you know that when they built it, they had to use donkeys to pull the stone up the cliff?’
Seaways, a giddily steep rocky climb up from here, looked breathtakingly lovely. I imagined, and envied, the astonishing view of the ocean the house must command.
A few yards further on, Mayhew abruptly stopped. ‘And this, my dear, is Hope. I think it’s just what you’re looking for. It’s not usually rented out, but there are… unusual circumstances.’
And there, a dozen steps up from the coastal path, set back in a lovely garden bursting with summer flowers and shrubs and enclosed by a
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