Page 101 of The Winter of Second Chances
‘Are you?’
‘Absolutely one hundred – no, one million per cent never ever. No.’
‘That’s quite final. Have you straightened it out with your sons?’
‘Yes. They’re fine. They love their dad, he’s a good father, but they’re old enough to understand that he wasn’t such a good husband.’
‘Even adults can struggle to come to terms with their parents’ imperfections.’
‘Are you speaking from experience?’
‘Yes.’
‘Alex and Peter are very well-adjusted adults. And I think being twins, they have the added advantage of being one another’s moral compass.’
John nodded.
‘You know, my aunt thinks you’re a bloody miracle.’
‘I am!’
‘She’s pinning all her hopes on you buying this place.’
‘So am I,’ said Annie.
John rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. Annie noticed his face and hair were speckled with white paint. He looked done-in; his aura was that of a person weighed down by the weight of responsibility.
‘The builder is pressing me for an answer. He’s had the surveyor’s reports back and he’s keen to go ahead.’
‘But there’s nothing official. You haven’t signed anything.’
‘No, it’s a gentleman’s agreement. I won’t be terribly popular if I pull out.’
‘Will it affect your business if you don’t sell to him? I mean, could he be vindictive?’
John thought for a moment.
‘I don’t think so, he doesn’t strike me as the type. Maybe I could offer to pay his surveyor’s fees, so he’s not out of pocket, you know, as a gesture of goodwill.’
‘You’re talking like you’ve made your decision already.’
‘Let’s just say, I’m leaning more one way than the other.’
Annie felt a thrill of excitement in her stomach.
‘But of course,’ he went on, ‘a lot depends on whether or not your husband agrees to buy you out. And how long he’s likely to drag it out for. Mari’s needs won’t wait.’
‘I understand,’ said Annie. ‘I do, really.’ She looked up at him and his eyes met hers. He smiled.
‘I know you do.’
Annie invited John to stay for some supper but he had promised to eat with Raye and Aiden; he was drawing up some plans for a loft extension that was to make The Captain’s Bounty – planning permission allowing – an inn with a small number of boutique rooms. When John left, Annie went upstairs to inspect the paintwork. He’d done a nice job and the flat had the painty smell of newness. Her mind was whirring with ideas for the cafe and her fingers twitched to get writing plans and making lists in her notebook: a pudding club night, a seafarers’ menu, a candlelit bistro evening...Oh, if she could just get Max to hurry up and buy her out already!
Mrs Tiggy-Winkle joined her back downstairs in the cafe and mooched about the place, trying out different chairs for size while Annie finished her work for the day.
‘Fancy a walk, Tiggs?’ Annie asked when she had finished mopping the floor. She needed to walk off some of her excess excitement energy.
Mrs Tiggy-Winkle looked at her with disdain, but Annie had a surprise for the haughty ginger moggy. Alex had posted down a cat lead which Annie hadn’t got around to trying out yet. She wrestled her nonplussed pet into the harness, threw on her warmest jacket and scarf and set off into the gloom.
