Teresa Morgan - Meet Me at Wisteria Cottage

Damn cat on his bed. Whatever next? The rows he’d had with Karin over that.

Feeling the tension creep up his back, he pushed his thoughts of Karin aside. Harry puffed pillows and wriggled to get comfortable. Usually, he preferred to sleep naked, but because of his houseguest, he decided to keep his boxers on. He didn’t need Maddy coming down the stairs and being greeted by his bare arse – or worse!

Hoping tonight’s events and the lingering smell of smoke wouldn’t bring on a flashback – he’d not been near a fire in months – he closed his eyes and thought of the next gardening project he had lined up, trying to map out the garden, plan the plants he’d use. It worked better than counting sheep. And if that didn’t work, his medication would soon kick in.

The next thing Harry knew, daylight was streaming through the gap in the curtains, and a cat was purring on his chest, pawing and kneading at him. He pushed her off and the cat gave a hiss. It took him a minute to gather why he was sleeping on the sofa, and why he had a black cat on top of him. For one very brief moment, he had thought he was back, with Karin, still working as a fireman.

‘I guess you’re hungry are you, Socks?’ He thought that was a better name for the cat, having one white paw.

As Harry sat up, the cat persisted trying to jump back on top of him. He swung the duvet off, burying Sookie, and strolled into the kitchen, the cat trotting by his feet, tail pointed. Squinting, his eyes not yet ready to fully open, he looked at the clock on his microwave. Stupid cat, it was only five thirty-two a.m.

He pulled the tuna out of the fridge, and like last night, forked it onto a saucer. Sookie sniffed it and looked up at him in disgust.

‘What? You ate it last night.’ Harry held his hands up at the cat.

‘Last night it was at room temperature. It’s probably too cold for her at the moment.’ Maddy had appeared in the kitchen doorway, wearing only his shirt, unaware how sexy she looked, with her hair tousled and barelegged. Wow!

‘Good morning,’ Harry said, quickly turning and busying himself. Why hadn’t he slipped a T-shirt on himself? He flicked the switch on the kettle and pulled two mugs from the cupboard.

‘Morning.’ Maddy sounded grumpy, splashing cold water over his hot thoughts.

‘You sure your name’s not Moody, rather than Maddy?’ He teased over his shoulder. Maddy scowled.

‘I’m not a great morning person at the best of times,’ Maddy said, curtly. ‘But if you haven’t forgotten, my house was on fire last night. Not exactly something to wake up to and put you in a good mood.’

Maybe she had a point. ‘Did you sleep okay?’

‘Not bad. It was broken sleep, but the bed was comfortable, thank you.’

‘Maybe you should take a shower while I get us some breakfast on.’ Harry focussed on her green eyes, and tried not to let his own stray lower, to how her amber-blonde hair fell softly over her shoulders, and onto her breasts, curling at the ends. Stop it.

‘Yes, I will, but I’m worried my face will feel dry and itchy as I don’t have any moisturiser.’

‘Ah, I might be able to help you out there. I’ll put it on my bed. Go get in the shower.’

‘Oh, that would be great. It’s amazing how much you take for granted when you can’t get into your own home.’

He let Maddy return upstairs before he followed, throwing on a T-shirt and his shorts from yesterday. He waited until he could hear the shower running then darted into his box room, opening up some cardboard boxes. ‘Now where is it,’ he mumbled. In his attempt to tidy the room he’d stumbled across some of Karin’s cosmetics and skincare bottles. It had stopped him from opening any more boxes.

Karin had been a hoarder of beauty products, and all of these tiny bottles were samples or freebies which hadn’t even been opened. At the time, when he’d found them, he hadn’t the heart to throw them away, so they’d been thrown back in a box instead. In fact, he wondered if his mother had packed them into his boxes by mistake, because until moving here, he hadn’t been aware he had any of Karin’s belongings. In his grieving state, his mother had helped clear out Karin’s things, taking them to her parents. But he knew there would be some things left to remind him of her.

And he shouldn’t forget the good things.

The scents of some of the moisturisers and perfumes reminded him of Karin, and he clung to them from time to time, worried he was forgetting the good stuff about her. He wanted to remember her alive, not how she died. Now, nearly two years after her death, he should be healing – his intention was to see if a charity shop would want the items so had set them aside – but he still couldn’t face the other boxes. Harry found the carrier bag on the top of a box. It contained make-up and skin care samples, full pots Karin hadn’t started. With the shower still running, he placed it on his bed ready for Maddy to find.

Maddy returned to the kitchen in the clothes she was wearing last night – a flowery short-sleeved blouse and three-quarter length jeans, both items covered with splodges of dried paint. ‘Thanks for the toiletries,’ she said, towelling her hair dry.

‘Not a problem. You can keep them if you like. I was only going to give them to a charity shop.’

‘Whose are they?’

An unease churned inside his stomach as he frowned, not wanting to answer. He’d turned his back on Maddy so she couldn’t see the discomfort her question had caused in his face. He wasn’t ready to talk about Karin. Not to a stranger. He popped two slices of bread into the toaster. ‘No one’s. Like I said, you can have them.’

‘Sorry, I’m doing it again. Only this time I no longer have the vodka to blame.’

Harry smiled, trying to relax. It wasn’t Maddy’s fault. ‘It’s okay, just a very long story.’

‘I could really do with some clean underwear, but I suppose you don’t have any?’

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. ‘No sorry, I can’t help there.’

***

After a small breakfast – Maddy couldn’t stomach eating much – she took her coffee into the lounge. From here she had a better view of her house and wanted to wait for the fire brigade to show up and go through the charred remains of her kitchen. Dread filled her at the amount of work ahead of her, because even if only the kitchen were damaged, the rest of the house would probably need redecorating to get rid of the smoke stains and stench.

And then there were her paintings …

The first thing she’d do when allowed back into her house was check the paintings, and then dig out her insurance details.

Last night she hadn’t taken much notice of Harry’s lounge. His dark leather sofas clashed with the pastel chintz borders around the top of the wall and the floral curtains. Maddy’s house wasn’t the only one in need of decorating.

Harry, after showering and changing, joined Maddy in the lounge with a mug of coffee, cupping it with both hands.

Last night she hadn’t taken much notice of Harry either. He created quite a presence. She tried not to stare at his bum as he walked around his lounge, his small, tight buttocks accentuated by his khaki cargo pants. Her eyes roamed upwards – because staring at his bum was totally unacceptable – to appreciate his narrow waist spreading to broad, muscular shoulders, which his black T-shirt stretched across. His clothing didn’t leave much to the imagination. He would make a fantastic life model. She gave herself a mental shake. She shouldn’t be ogling him. What was she thinking? He fancied himself, remember? This is the same guy you were rowing with, only yesterday morning. Although, he was being very nice currently, and he didn’t have to be. Last night he could have left her on the pavement outside screaming at the firefighters.