‘You know this place?’ Caro frowned suddenly. ‘I suppose you must do, since you live around here.’
‘Yes, I used to play up here when I was a boy. This house was deserted and very ramshackle then.’
‘You’ve always lived here, then?’ Caro was looking at him as if he came from another planet. Which wasn’t an entirely unpleasant sensation, as her eyes were wide and brown, the colour of dark honey. Knowing and beautiful, all at the same time.
That was entirely irrelevant. Imagining how her hair might shine if she gave it a brush was also irrelevant. He was here to appreciate Caro’s intellect.
‘Yes, I’m a Cornishman, born and bred.’ That was a matter of some pride to Drew. ‘I grew up in Dolphin Cove.’
‘That sounds nice, growing up somewhere.’ Caro frowned, as if the sentence didn’t entirely cover all of her intended implications. ‘I mean... I grew up, of course. In quite a lot of places.’
‘That sounds nice too.’ The sudden urge to make her feel at ease gripped Drew. ‘Lucas tells me you were working in California before you came here?’
‘Yes.’ Caro didn’t seem to want to elaborate on that. ‘I’ll get you some coffee and...um...freshen up if you don’t mind. I’ll only be five minutes.’
It occurred to Drew that Caro had probably been up all night, working on something, and he suppressed the urge to tell her that whatever it was could probably have been done just as well after a good night’s sleep. How she chose to organise her life was none of his concern.
‘Take your time. I can make the coffee if you show me the way to the kitchen.’
‘No. That’s all right.’ Caro’s glance flipped to his walking stick. ‘You should probably sit down. I actually really wish you would, it’ll make me feel a bit better for bringing you all the way up here and then answering the door in my pyjamas.’
Somehow, the invitation to sit didn’t carry with it the tang of frustration and humiliation that it usually did. Standing next to Caro made him feel strong and steady, in a way he hadn’t felt for a long time now. And she was charming, in an odd kind of way. Nakedly honest, although he really shouldn’t include the word naked in any sentence that referred to her. The green cardigan seemed to be inviting him to imagine the figure it so effectively hid.
She waved him towards a pair of sofas that stood next to the hearth, at one side of the open-plan living area. Drew sank down onto the cushions, trying not to heave a sigh of relief and keeping Phoenix on her lead so that she didn’t wander off and get under Caro’s feet. The pup sprawled out on the hearth rug, her gaze following Caro as she skittered nervously into the kitchen area.
The conversion had been nicely done. The ceiling beams were new, but the oak would mellow with time. The large space was divided into two by a breakfast bar, and the pale colours in the kitchen and on the walls of the sitting area made everything seem spacious and clean. Wooden floors and the pale, natural tones of the furnishing fabrics added a touch of warmth.
And the house looked entirely unlived-in. Nothing was out of place, not even the cushions on the sofa. It was as if Caro had been parachuted in here to add a little delicious mess to her magazine-cover surroundings.
She was banging the doors of the kitchen cupboards, obviously looking for something while the coffee brewed. Drew watched as she stood on her toes, reaching to the back of one of the units and bringing out a packet of chocolate biscuits.
‘Would...um...he like some biscuits?’ She pointed towards Phoenix, who returned her gaze steadily.
‘She. Her name’s Phoenix. She shouldn’t have chocolate.’
Caro frowned, tipping half a dozen biscuits onto a plate and then adding a few more for good measure. ‘What does she eat, then?’
‘She loves cheese, if you have any.’ Phoenix’s ears began to twitch at the mention of the word, and Drew wondered whether he should have spelled it out.
‘Oh! Really? I’ve got cheese...’ Caro fetched two large blocks of cheese from the fridge, and Phoenix jumped to her feet. ‘Which does she prefer? Extra mature, or mild and creamy?’
Phoenix wasn’t a connoisseur, she just liked cheese. ‘Mild and creamy will be fine.’ Caro unwrapped the package, hovering her knife somewhere in the middle of the block. ‘Not that much. Just a few small squares.’
Caro shrugged, cutting some squares of cheese and putting them onto a saucer. ‘What made you call her Phoenix?’
Drew resisted the temptation to say that not everything had a meaning attached to it. In Caro’s world, he suspected it did. ‘I guess...she’s helping me rise from the ashes.’
‘Nice thought. Rising from the ashes is always good.’
Drew wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that, but Caro didn’t seem to think that the comment required any further explanation. She poured two cups of coffee, taking a quick swig from hers before balancing the biscuits and cheese on top of the mugs to carry them over. As she set everything down on the coffee table, Phoenix decided to stake her claim and came to nuzzle at her hand.
Caro pulled her arm back quickly. If she was going to be studying animals, and her work in making prosthetics made that inevitable, she was going to have to get over her nervousness.
‘She won’t hurt you.’ Drew smiled, picking up one of the squares of cheese. ‘Why don’t you give it to her?’
Caro shot him a querying look, and he flattened his hand, perching the cheese on top of his fingers to demonstrate. She nodded, sitting down cross-legged on the hearth rug and holding her hand out. Phoenix was keeping her eye fixed on the cube of cheese and her head arced round as he placed it on Caro’s fingers.
‘Oh!’ Phoenix wolfed down the treat, and started to lick Caro’s hand, on the off chance she’d left anything behind. ‘I thought her tongue would be raspy, like a cat’s...’