Despite being knackered after his epic day at the gallery, Travis was still awake at one a.m., reliving that kiss – and rueing the sudden ending to it. If they’d carried on, then anything could have happened – and he wished it had.
Or did he?
He groaned and thumped his pillow. It was the thought of anything happening that was keeping him awake. He’d only been back in Bannerdale for a week and the two of them already seemed on the verge of having a massive falling out.
Underneath the veneer of ‘maturity,’ they clearly hadn’t grown up at all.
After a fitful night, the six a.m. alarm went off so he rolled out of bed and into the shower. It was still dark and he shivered in the chilly air of the cabin. He’d pick up some breakfast from the sandwich shop … treat Seb too as he was dropping by to ‘help’ on his day off. Hopefully, he might be able to get to the bottom of why Fenno had been hassling his brother again.
Travis was hanging a picture of Derwentwater when Seb hobbled into the gallery not long after Travis had got there himself. Apart from the limp and a bruise on his face, he looked more like his old self. You healed fast when you were young, Travis thought ruefully.
‘I’m feeling better. Phoned my manager and I’m back at work next week. They’re putting me on the afternoon shift on the tills until I’m more mobile.’
‘That’s good.’
He looked round. ‘So, here I am ready to help. Fenno went past yesterday afternoon and said it looked like shit but actually, it looks OK to me.’
Fenno … The name instantly made Travis’s hackles rise. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence,’ he replied, unwilling to let on that Freya had helped him. ‘I didn’t know you were still seeing Fenno …’
‘Sometimes,’ Seb said and flashed a defiant glare at Travis. ‘And before you say anything, he’s one of the good guys now. He’s got an apprenticeship with a boat repair place on the lake.’
‘I didn’t say anything!’
Seb narrowed his eyes. ‘I could tell what you were thinking.’
‘I wish I had that gift,’ Travis said tartly, at a loss how Seb could think that Fenno was a good guy after the altercation they’d had outside the church. It was further proof of how far his brother was under the man’s influence. ‘Are you sure you’re fit enough to help me out?’ Travis said.
Seb scoffed. ‘Of course. I’m not an old guy like you,’
‘You cheeky sod. I’m only thirty-two.’
‘Exactly. Ancient. And anyway, now Hamza’s buggered off to film these golden eagles, you’ll be on your own.’
Travis frowned. ‘Who told you Hamza’s gone to film eagles – and by the way it’s sea eagles. I didn’t mention that.’
‘Freya Bolton told me. I saw her outside the doc’s this morning. She was on her way to her office and she asked me how I was.’ He grinned. ‘She seemed worried an old guy like you couldn’t manage on your own.’
Travis put the hammer on the counter with a thud. ‘She did not say that!’
Seb smirked in delight at having wound his brother up. ‘Well, not exactly that but she obviously is looking out for you. She cares.’ He said it in a simpering voice. ‘Just like when you were lovesick teenagers.’
Travis wondered whether now was the time to introduce the topic of dryrobe guy but the situation was still fragile and he thought it best to save that subject until they’d bonded a bit more.
‘She’s arranged for the builder and electrician to come, that’s it.’
‘Sure, she did …’ Seb smirked.
Ignoring the comment, Travis handed a craft knife to Seb. ‘Can you manage to open some boxes? You can sit down to do it.’
‘Oh, I don’t know if I can be trusted with such a complex task but I can give it a go.’
‘I’d be so grateful …’ Travis simpered.
Seb scored a line down the parcel tape. He pulled out a series of A4 prints wrapped in cellophane and nodded appreciatively.
‘You know, Trav. Some of this stuff isn’t total crap.’ He glanced up at the mountain hare and whistled. ‘This isn’t one of yours, is it?’
‘No, it’s by one of my numerous assistants. Of course, it’s one of mine!’
Seb hobbled closer. ‘It’s not bad.’
‘Thanks. If you talk less and work more, you can get them sorted into those baskets so the customers can buy them tomorrow.’
The two of them set to work, opening the rest of the stock and arranging it in boxes, with the larger stuff on wooden racks. The smaller canvases finally arrived against the odds, and Travis was able to hang some of those.
As he worked, Seb’s words about Freya caring resonated with him. She’d always been a caring person. OK, she’d run out of the church like Usain Bolt at the mock wedding, but Travis hadn’t really blamed her – eventually. For a while, he’d had to bear the brunt of the other kids asking him if she’d run off because he’d smelled skanky, or he’d tried to kiss her (they could see full well he hadn’t!) or because she was scared of him because of his dad.
For a while – about three months – he hadn’t forgiven her but eventually, he’d convinced himself he was over it. There was enough to worry about at home, because his father was ‘away’ again and his mum had toddler Seb to care for and was trying to work two jobs. Travis had to help with looking after him while trying to help out around the house.
He slid a glance at Seb who was intent on sorting prints into some kind of theme. All the times he’d changed his nappy and wiped his snotty little nose … stuck up for him at school … Seb had no idea.
They worked hard until mid-afternoon when a female voice with a Cumbrian accent called a greeting from the open rear door and in walked a petite young woman with black hair caught up in a scrunchie. She was wearing work boots, trousers with a hundred pockets and a plaid shirt three sizes too large.
‘Can I help you?’ Travis said. ‘We’re not open until tomorrow.’
She laughed. ‘I hope not with that leak over the back door. I’m the roofer.’
He peered at her, remembering her pretty face from school but unable to square it with the roofers’ overalls. ‘Araya? It can’t be.’
‘Yeah. It’s me.’ She grinned.
Travis smiled. Her parents owned the Thai restaurant whose food he’d eaten the previous evening.
‘You weren’t expecting some hulking great bloke with his bum hanging out of his trousers, were you?’
‘Um. No. I wasn’t sure who to expect.’
‘Well, you’ve got me. Me and my brother set up our own roofing company.’ She grinned. ‘I never minded heights. Remember that abseiling trip at school?’
‘You did it twice while the rest of us kids were cowering at the bottom.’
She grinned. ‘Yup.’
‘Coffee?’
‘Go on, then but I’ll have it outside while I look at this back roof.’
Travis made the coffee and watched while Araya nipped up the ladder and inspected the roof. He wasn’t surprised the old place had issues because most of the stone and slate buildings in the village dated back to Victorian times – some even older. It gave them heaps of character – and sadly, meant they needed loads of maintenance.
Back on terra firma, Araya pointed out the issue to him, while Seb spectated from the doorway pretending to sip a cup of tea.
‘There’s nothing terminal for now,’ she said, mug in hand. ‘See those broken slates above the rear entrance? They’re what’s caused your leak. I’ve actually got some similar slates in the van from a job I’ve been doing for Freya so I can sort it now if you like.’
Travis heaved a sigh of relief. ‘Thanks for coming so quickly. I’m really grateful.’
‘Don’t thank me. Thank Freya. Once the roof is sealed again, you can start to dry the place out properly. Freya said she’ll send the dehumidifier along as soon as.’
‘She’s a real hero,’ Seb said with a wistful sigh.
Travis glared at him. ‘Shouldn’t you be unloading boxes?’
‘I was just having a bit of fresh air while I take a break. Nice work, Araya.’
‘Thanks. I’d employ you as labourer if you didn’t have the dodgy leg. I heard you came off your bike.’
‘From who?’
‘Constable Kelvin.’ She chuckled. ‘He’s one of Mum and Dad’s best customers. News travels fast in Bannerdale. Hope your leg’s better soon.’
Seb slunk back inside while Araya set to work, so Travis left her to it and went back inside to find his brother Seb bursting with glee.
‘Some bloke with a dehumidifier just arrived. Says Freya made him stop doing another job to rush over here. See, I told you she’s willing to bend over backwards to help you.’
‘Great because I need all the help I can get if I’m to open tomorrow in time for the fair,’ Travis said. ‘Now, do you think you can manage to unpack those boxes or are you going to spend the rest of the day drooling over the roofer?’
Seb mimed a fishing reel action. ‘Gotcha!’
Travis rolled his eyes. ‘There’s a Stanley knife next to you, though you could use your razor-sharp wit, I suppose.’
As sunset approached, Travis noticed that Seb was tiring.
‘You should go home and rest that leg,’ Travis said. ‘Thanks for your help.’
‘Like I said, an old guy needs a hand.’
Travis rolled his eyes.
‘It’s looking better,’ Seb declared with undisguised pride.
‘Yeah, I’m beginning to think I might make it in time for the launch.’ There hadn’t seemed a good time to mention the dryrobe man with Seb flagging.
Despite being tired, Seb left mid-afternoon with a smile on his face, leaving Travis in a more positive mood. Today had been a good day in so many ways; the gallery was looking almost there; if he stayed late that evening he should be ready to open in time – thanks to Seb and Freya.
He felt he was making progress with his brother – as for Freya, well, that was still a mystery to him. She always had been a mystery, he’d always felt on shifting sands, never convinced of her true feelings for him. Right from that stupid mock wedding to their real but short-lived engagement, he could never predict whether she’d run out on him. Even when she had agreed to marry him, even if she changed her mind for an evening, it had been with a guarded reluctance as if she was terrified of what she’d agreed to – terrified of making the commitment to him, or anyone.
He was pretty certain about one thing: she still fancied him. With a sigh of manly pride at that thought, he decided to clear up the dust before going home to crash out. The previous tenant had left an old hoover in the storeroom so Travis lugged it into the gallery and shoved the yellowing plug into the socket.
He wasn’t sure which happened first, the flash, the bang – or him flying across the room and landing on his arse.