Gabriel walked a few steps towards his car, but then he turned and walked back.
‘Why are you suddenly being nice to me?’ he asked, his forehead creased in confusion.
Nessa paused, various answers running through her head.
Because you looked sad on your birthday. Because doing up the cottage is exhausting and I don’t have the energy to sustain a feud. Because I want to see if you really can paint.
There was a grain of truth in all of them. But the real reason behind her magnanimous gesture was her grandmother.
She missed her gran so much. But being here in this cottage, surrounded by echoes of a long-gone community, made her feel that the old lady was still close. And Nessa knew one thing: Ruth Paulson, the gentlest of women, wouldn’t approve of her granddaughter being unkind to anyone – with the possible exception of Jake.
And there was something about Gabriel that bothered her. A hidden sadness that sometimes bubbled to the surface. An absence of joy. A loneliness that, she guessed, had little to do with him being stuck here with her. Rosie would probably say she was overthinking things. But her gran would have understood.
‘Well?’ he asked, tilting his head to one side.
‘I’m not being nice. It’s only old stuff that would go to waste otherwise.’
‘If you say so.’
‘My gran wouldn’t want her paints to sit in a box, unused.’
‘Right.’
When he didn’t move, Nessa breathed out slowly. Why was she letting this man get under her skin?
‘Look,’ she said, folding her arms. ‘I think you’re in the wrong. You’re here, trying to destroy something precious purely for profit. But when I was lying awake this morning, thinking about you—’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘You were lying awake thinking about me?’
‘I was thinking about this cottage, actually. And I realised that you’re just doing your job and I can achieve what I want simply by staying put for the next three weeks. So there’s no need for us to be enemies all the time. Plus, my gran’s stuff is already taking up enough space in Rosie’s loft. OK?’
He stared at her for a moment. ‘OK. But I’ll still be calling in twice a day.’
‘In the hope of catching me out.’
‘That’s right.’ He turned his palms to the grey sky. ‘As you said, I’m just doing my job as a property developer.’
‘And I’m doing mine as a mother, trying to make a home for my child.’
He gave her the briefest of nods before turning and heading back towards his car.
They might no longer be enemies, thought Nessa as he drove away, but they were still at loggerheads and would be for the next three long weeks.