Page 30 of The Key to the Last House Before the Sea

‘I’ve just heard that preparatory work will be starting next week. We’ll make the site ready while planning permission’s being finalised because my father’s been assured it’ll get the green light. The new sea defences are spurring investment in this area, and the local council’s keen to support projects like ours.’

‘I could fight your application.’

More fighting talk? Gabriel sighed again. Much as he admired Nessa’s determination, she had no idea what his father was like.

‘You could, but my father will bring in experts and he’ll win. He always wins.’

Nessa’s cheeks coloured at that and she folded her arms. ‘What will you do to make the site ready?’

He hesitated, annoyed with himself for not wanting to tell her of the destruction that the diggers would wreak. This was a big deal for him. A big deal that would put him in his father’s good books, for once. And Sorrel Cove, he told himself, was just a pile of old stones at the end of the day, whatever Nessa’s sentimental views.

‘What will the work entail?’ she asked again, leaning forward.

He took a deep breath. ‘We’ll demolish any standing structures, take away the stone and prepare for new foundations to be laid.’

‘Will you demolish my family’s cottage immediately?’

He held her gaze. ‘Yes, we will.’

‘What if you can’t?’

‘We can and I’m sorry but there’s nothing that can stop it.’

‘Yes, there is.’ She pushed her hands into her bag and brought out some papers. ‘What if there’s someone already living on the site?’

He shook his head. ‘Squatters can be evicted.’

‘What if they have a right to live there?’

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. What was she getting at? ‘I don’t understand,’ he said slowly.

Nessa swallowed. ‘The cottage at the back of the village, where my family used to live – it belongs to me.’

Gabriel folded his arms, unsure where this bizarre conversation was going. ‘I know your family lived there a long time ago. But that doesn’t mean it belongs to you.’

‘Well, not belongs exactly, but I have a right to live there.’

‘Says who?’

‘Says this lease.’

She thrust the papers at him and sat back in her chair, biting her lip. He pushed his sunglasses up into his hair and started reading.

What the hell? In his line of work he’d seen plenty of leases and agreements involving property – and this one, though old, looked legitimate enough at first glance.

‘Where did you get this?’ he demanded sharply as he reached the end of the document.

‘It was amongst my grandmother’s possessions.’ Nessa tilted up her chin and stared at him defiantly. ‘It says that the Paulson family – my family – have a right to live in that cottage for 125 years, which means it’s mine for another twenty-two years.’

‘I assumed that Paulson was your married name.’

‘I kept my maiden name, just like my gran and her mother before her.’

Of course she had, thought Gabriel. During their short acquaintance, he’d already gleaned that Nessa wasn’t always inclined to take the conventional approach. And it was obviously a family trait.

He skimmed through the lease again, his sense of unease growing until his eyes settled on a very important clause she must have missed. He smiled with relief.

‘It says here that the cottage is only yours if you stay there for at least a month, day and night. So this lease is null and void because you don’t live there.’

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