‘Nice. You should go out there and pay them a visit.’
‘Nah, I’m sick of the sun.’
He smiled crookedly. ‘You came to the right place, then.’
They locked eyes for slightly too long, until Jenna’s lips began to ache from holding the complicit smirk they shared.
‘Right. Kitchen. I wish you could have helped me design it, but it’s the one room I had to sort out before I moved in, so it’s all ready to go. I’ll be in all day, pretty much. I’ll come up and make sure you’re OK every couple of hours. By the way …’
‘What?’
‘What did you do about, you know, personal functions? While you were in hiding?’
‘I can get in and out, you know. I used the lav, of course. What do you take me for?’
‘Sorry. I just wondered …’
‘Bowyer’s a different matter, mind. Don’t worry, I clean up after him.’
‘Shall I take him down with me? Let him into the garden?’
‘I don’t know.’ Leonardo tickled the cat’s neck. ‘He likes it up here with me. Probably a good thing to give him a bit of freedom, though. Let him see how he likes it out there and, if he doesn’t get on with it, I’ll have him back.’
Jenna let the cat out into the wilderness, which he seemed interested in exploring, then let the kitchen fitters in. She made tea for them in the drawing room, using a cheap kettle and mugs she’d picked up in the supermarket the day before, and watched them strip the old walls down and rip out the ancient pipes. The floor, with its original granite tiles, was staying, but everything else was leaky, broken or rotten and had to be replaced.
She took a quick break to go to the nearest corner shop and buy packaged sandwiches and bottles of water for herself and Leonardo, plus a tin of tuna for Bowyer. Bowyer, however, seemed more interested in self-catering: on her return, she found a dead mouse on the doorstep.
‘He’s a survivor,’ said Leonardo, proudly, when she told him. ‘Like me. How’s your posh kitchen getting on?’
‘Who said it was posh?’
‘What, so you’re getting a Baby Belling and some knock-off cupboards with doors that don’t shut properly? Come off it, Jen. I bet it’s all Grand Designs.’
‘What’s Grand Designs?’
‘TV programme. You’ve been away a long time, haven’t you?’ He adopted a faux-plummy voice and said, ‘Jenna is now the proud owner of a space that can be used for so much more than cooking. And this is how good design can influence good living.’
She laughed. ‘Well, it’s probably a bit posh. But I wanted it to be in keeping with the original, a proper old country house kitchen. Not in an over-styled way – just a big, warm, comfortable, working room.’
‘So are you getting people in to do every room?’
She thought about this.
‘To be honest, I was wondering if we could do it ourselves. Once the kitchen’s in, we’re fine. There’s an electrician down there sorting out new wiring for the downstairs rooms. Upstairs can come when we get to it. It’s just a case of some sanding, painting, plastering. Have you ever done anything like that?’
‘No,’ said Leonardo. ‘Well, except painting.’ He bent his head towards his fresco.
‘I think we could do it, though. I’ve been looking forward to it. Getting my hands dirty – honest, hard work. Doing something real.’
‘Hey, my painting’s real.’
‘Of course. It’s my li
ne of business I’m not sure about.’
He smiled.
‘Yeah, why not?’ he said. ‘Let’s work up a sweat.’ He tore into his chicken sandwich and she felt that weak, virusy thing again. Suddenly her tuna on granary didn’t hold much appeal.