One Summer in Cornwall by Karen King (best books to read for success .TXT) 📕

bring themselves in an income but Hattie felt it should be a family home and her dad wanted a quick sale and a clean break.

‘I’ll get someone in this week and let you know,’ she promised. It probably was best to get things moving. The quicker the cottage was sold, the quicker she would have the money to get on with her life.

She decided to stay in that evening, keep Buddy company and tidy up downstairs a bit. Tomorrow, she was going into Truro to try and drum up more business by putting her posters into some shops, and also to see if she could find a local photographic, printing and framing service rather than an online one, as it would be easier and more convenient for her to pick up her prints. Then she planned to tidy up Uncle Albert’s room for Mali and Lou. Not a job she fancied doing.

The next morning, she woke up bright and early feeling really refreshed. She jumped out of bed and threw open the curtains. It was a glorious day! She looked down into the back yard where she could see her bike parked against the shed, the rusty table and chairs, and the clothes line stretching from one side of the wall to the other. She ought to tidy it up a bit and also put some pots out the front, to make it look pretty and welcoming.

She could see over into Marcus’s yard too, which was bare apart from a small wooden table and two chairs. Suddenly the back door opened and the woman she’d seen in the car yesterday stepped out, with Marcus behind her, barefoot and wearing just a pair of shorts slung low on his hips. He really did have a toned body and those tattoos on the top of his arms made them look even more muscular.

Hattie pulled back so that they couldn’t see her, as the woman flung her arms around Marcus’s neck and snogged him.

‘Sorry, I have to dash, darling. See you later.’

Then she was off, her heels clicking on the cobbled path.

So they were an item then. Well, Marcus obviously went for the older woman with money, and he had practically called Hattie a gold-digger! What a cheek!

They might genuinely love each other, she reminded herself. Anyway, it was his life, nothing to do with her.

She pulled on what was becoming her regular attire of shorts and a T-shirt, and went downstairs to check on Buddy, who was nibbling away at the corn cob on the bottom of his cage. Thank goodness, she thought in relief. He seemed to be getting used to her being here now. ‘Morning, Buddy,’ she said, walking over to his cage. ‘Say morning to Hattie. Morning, Hattie.’

Buddy looked up from the corn cob then turned his back dismissively and carried on eating.

Well, at least he hadn’t sworn at her. It was a start.

After coffee and breakfast, she left the radio on for Buddy and went upstairs to set about stripping Uncle Albert’s bed and putting the bedclothes on a wash, opening the window wide to let in some fresh air. She wanted it to smell fresh and clean for Mali and Lou to sleep in tomorrow. She did wonder if she should offer Mali the attic room, after all there was a double and single bed up there, but she knew that Mali would be happy to share with her little daughter, and Hattie wouldn’t feel right sleeping in Uncle Albert’s room. She felt at home in the attic, even a little nostalgic, remembering the holidays with her parents.

She vacuumed the bedroom, cleaning the top of the wardrobe too to make sure there were no parrot feathers or droppings, and left the bed to air. Then she hung the washing out to dry on the line running across the back yard, had a shower and set off on her Harley for Truro.

She parked the bike up in the council car park and then had a walk around the pedestrianised shopping centre. It was a beautiful city, the gothic-looking spires of the cathedral dominating the skyline. She remembered coming shopping here with her parents before they split up, visiting the cathedral, stopping for a coffee in the upstairs restaurant of one of the bookstores, which didn’t seem to be there anymore. Truro was an eclectic mix of the larger stores on the main street with smaller, independent stores. She browsed around for a while, enjoying the bustling atmosphere. Her mother had always insisted on coming here at least once when they were visiting Uncle Albert and, whilst Hattie had been bored with the shops back then, preferring to spend her time on the beach, she could understand why, now.

She left her flyer in a stationery shop, and a couple of photography shops. Then she browsed the albums, wondering which one Ellie and Reece would like most. The best thing to do, she decided, would be to look online, then send them the link, so they could choose the one they preferred.

When she arrived home, she felt in a reflective mood. She hadn’t thought about her childhood or her parents for a long time but staying in Fisherman’s Rest brought a lot of memories back to her. And not all good ones. She had to admit to herself that although her parents had tried not to argue when they were on holiday, she had always sensed an atmosphere between them, and had always been trying to please them, anxious to avoid anything that heightened the tension.

They hadn’t been happy together, she had known that even though she hadn’t expected them to divorce, because as a child you don’t really think about that. You accept your parents’ relationship. Now, looking back, she could see that it had only been a matter of time. Yes, Dad had been the one who had cut the tie, walked out and made a new life with someone else, but she and Mum had been happier