Удерживая маску. Николай Метельский
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sure it showcased that he was good at his job. His intention was to build his business, then he could buy a larger property. That was the good thing about places like Padstow and Tinners Bay: there were plenty of holiday homes and second homes needing regular garden maintenance. Perfect for a landscape gardener starting up – he’d picked up quite a few contracts, and hopefully he’d pick up this one he was attending today.
Damn cats were the bane of his life. Even in the fire service, the amount of stupid cats he’d had to rescue stuck up a tree, or in some tight gap. He understood the saying curiosity killed the cat more than ever now. He would have been more than happy to release a well-aimed jet of water to get cats out of trees, but with an adoring owner watching you had to handle these matters with a lot more care.
Though, rescuing cats were the easy jobs … a calm before a storm. Others were much harder …
Harry gave himself a mental shake, bringing himself back to the present, and drove out of Annadale Close. His new home. His fresh start.
His neighbour would have to put up with his truck, if he was to put up with her annoying cat.
***
Maddy huffed and puffed, slamming the gallery door shut. Leaving her house in such an anxious state, she’d nearly had an accident at a roundabout, then followed a bloody camper van going at what felt like two miles an hour for most of the journey down the narrow country lanes to Tinners Bay, flaring her temper and impatience further. Sometimes, there was a downside to living in rural Cornwall.
‘What has got you in such a tizz?’ Valerie said, appearing from the back of the gallery with a steaming mug of coffee. ‘This is not a good start to your Wednesday.’ Valerie was Maddy’s colleague and surrogate aunt. She was always smartly dressed, today wearing a powder blue trouser-suit and cream blouse, smelled of Chanel No 5 perfume and wore her light-blonde hair in a fashionably short bob. Valerie had always been a friend of the family. Growing up, Maddy had known her as Auntie Val, and she could tell her things in confidence she couldn’t tell her own mother. When Valerie had moved to Tinners Bay with her new husband some years ago now, it had meant family holidays in Cornwall, which had developed Maddy’s love for the area.
Maddy gratefully took the cup and hugged it for comfort. ‘Oh, my bloody neighbour again. I nearly hit his truck. He’s got the sheer nerve to question my driving.’
‘Ah, yes, men.’ Valerie chuckled. ‘I assume you’re talking about the one built like a brick—’
‘Yes! That’s him.’ Maddy scowled.
‘How dare he strut about showing off his tanned, taut body,’ Valerie said, sarcastically, mischief and an air of envy in her eye. ‘I assume that’s what he’s been doing again?’
‘Yes, he had his shirt off! And at this time of the morning, too.’
‘It is the summer. It’s not a crime, Maddy,’ Valerie said, chuckling. ‘I wish I had a young hot neighbour I could drool over.’
‘Not funny, Val.’ Any other time, Maddy would have joined in and laughed with Valerie, but nothing could snap her out of her mood. Once Maddy got riled, it took a while for her rational thinking to return. ‘He’s vain and arrogant. He’s the worst bloody type. He’s been annoying the shit out of me for nearly three months, and today I had it out with him.’ She regretted she hadn’t said more now, and got the whole lot off her chest.
‘Okay, calm down.’ Valerie rested a reassuring hand on Maddy’s shoulder. ‘Talking about arrogance and vanity, have you heard any more from that ex of yours?’
Valerie’s grimace showed she couldn’t even bring herself to say his name. She never failed to express her disgust at how Connor had treated Maddy. Valerie had given Maddy the strength to leave him, too.
Maddy gently shook her head. ‘No, I think he’s got the message I don’t want him back in my life.’
For a couple of weeks now her phone had remained silent. No texts, no calls – not that she’d reply if he did. He’d said he was returning to Bristol. Thank goodness.
‘Good. The rage you’re in I thought it was him who’d caused it, but the less we hear about that man, the better. It’s about time he got the message and left you alone.’ Valerie’s expression softened. ‘Now, go and set yourself up at your easel for a couple of hours. That always puts you in a better frame of mind.’
Maddy nodded, then twisted up her hair into a messy bun. She’d come in her not so posh clothes today, opting for old three-quarter length jeans and a short-sleeved floral shirt already with acrylic paint marking it. The clothes were clean on, but you could never get the paint out once dried. Some days she sat at her easel working on a commission, or something just for her. She’d set up an area in her gallery so that people could come in and watch her paint. Funnily enough, this had been one of Connor’s good ideas. She found it helped sell paintings and got more commissions because it made her approachable to the customers.
Maddy loved painting landscapes and seascapes, and would often disappear to different parts of Cornwall, and sometimes even North Devon, for inspiration. But most of her commissions were houses, something she’d started specialising in when living in Bristol and working from her mother’s gallery in Clifton. She painted for those with cute cottages or beautiful thatched houses, wanting their homes transferred eternally on to canvas. Luckily, gorgeous houses were in abundance in Cornwall. She also did pets. However, she was at her happiest painting landscapes because she could add her own imaginative touches to those. It didn’t matter if she omitted a tree or added some flowers, whereas houses and pets you had to get right. Currently, she was working on a seascape which she’d started a few weeks ago, trying to escape her thoughts of Connor. She loved creating the energy of crashing waves, of white surf and its swirling movement – a great mood improver.
‘While it’s quiet, I might go upstairs for a bit,’ Valerie said. She couldn’t work in public like Maddy did. She liked to tuck herself away somewhere quiet, so she usually worked upstairs above the gallery. The space was smaller, but there was a window that gave enough natural light. She worked in the room where they stored all the extra paintings, ready to go up when another sold, or commissions to be collected. Valerie and Maddy worked so well together, able to give each other advice. They knew each other well enough not to get offended by any constructive criticism. ‘When is Josie in next?’ Valerie called down the stairs.
‘Tomorrow morning,’ Maddy replied. She’d employed Josie part-time, so Maddy and Valerie weren’t always stuck at the gallery – they needed a life too. But with the holiday season rapidly approaching, the gallery had to be open seven days a week. Josie worked her shifts around her college work and covered the weekends. In the summer holidays, she upped her hours further.
Maddy’s gallery exhibited a mixture of paintings from local artists – Josie being one of them. She did the same deal for them all; they were responsible for framing their work if necessary and she took thirty percent commission on anything sold. Some worked in pastel, some watercolours, oils, and like Maddy, acrylics. She even had a local photographer who sold his photographs in her gallery too. Maddy usually relied on Valerie’s expertise to help price the work. Tinners Bay attracted a mix of holidaymakers – some from wealthy areas of London, and some average families – so it was about setting the price right. Or having a good selection of affordable pieces and some more exclusive work.
This was to be her first full summer in Cornwall, and she needed to make it work. Setting up the gallery last year, coupled with the purchase of her new house, had eaten up all the funds she’d inherited from her grandfather, so now she really needed to pull in the money to survive. She did not want to return to her mother in Clifton with her tail between her legs.
Plus, Connor had returned to Bristol. And the further she stayed away from him, the better.
***
Maddy turned the key in the lock to the gallery, checked the handle to make sure she had actually locked the door, then slipped the key into her handbag. She looked up at the signage ‘Captured by Hart’