The House that Florence Left (Portuguese Paradise #4)

Chapter 1

The last time Bella Creswell had driven along the lane was when she was eight years old. She hadn’t been driving, obviously — that had been her father, who had not been happy about the effects on the car’s suspension of the stones, rocks, mud and grass littering the unmade road. Bella, however, remembered being captivated by the canopy of trees hanging over them as they drove, lush and green and tall. She was entranced by the shards of sunlight sparkling through the branches, casting tiny pinpricks of light onto the ground as the family almost bounced in their little red car towards the white house in the distance.

‘Why does Florence have to live in the middle of nowhere,’ her father muttered. ‘Why doesn’t she do something about the access? I mean, doesn’t she want people to come and see her?’

‘You’ll have to ask her.’ Bella’s mother rolled the window down and held her arm outside. ‘Oh, that’s better.’ She breathed in slowly and loudly. ‘Actual air, rather than air conditioning.’

‘What are those trees, Mummy?’ Bella was fishing her notebook and pen out of her bag.

‘I don’t know, darling.’ Her mother turned her head and smiled at her. ‘Add it to the list of things we need to find out.’

Bella kicked her legs excitedly and carefully turned the pages until she got to one headed Things I want to know about Great-Auntie Flo and her house and where she lives , and added underneath:

1 — What are the trees on the lane?

‘I’ve written my first question,’ she announced.

‘Could you add, why did she decide to live in the back end of nowhere in the Algarve when she could have lived in a flash duplex near to all the amenities?’ Her father laughed loudly, then swore as he swerved to avoid two dogs sprawled lazily next to a gate. ‘That wouldn’t have happened if she lived in town,’ he muttered.

‘It’s a lifestyle choice, David.’ Her mother stroked his arm. ‘And we are getting a free holiday and an adventure, aren’t we? We would never have gone on that ferry and driven down through Spain and Portugal if she hadn’t invited us here. We’ve seen so many wonderful things already.’ She turned around again. ‘What do you think, Bella?’

Bella waved her notebook in the air. ‘I’ve got lots and lots of things to find out about when I get back home. I saw so many things, I need to go and do some research so I can understand them.’

‘A top researcher already.’ Her father slowed the car down. ‘Don’t worry, girls. When I finally get this car parked outside Florence’s house, she gives me an ice-cold beer and I watch the sun go down from one of the hammocks in her garden, I will relax.’

‘Yes, that’s until you get that old bike out of her shed and go off on one of your rides.’ Her mother laughed. ‘Or find a golf course, or run down to the sea for a swim, you old fidget you. You’ll stay in that hammock for about half an hour before you get restless.’

As the lane curved to the left, her father stopped the car. ‘I think this is it?’

Her mother read aloud the directions that Flo had dictated to them over the phone. ‘ The gate is on the right, almost hidden behind a jacaranda tree. And there is a sign on the left-hand post that says “O Ninho”. That’s the name of the house.’

‘Yes. We’re here. Exciting!’ Bella squealed.

‘She also said, Don’t bother to ring the buzzer, just drive up as it’s not working at the moment. ’ Her mother smiled as her father turned the engine on again. ‘What a beautiful tree. Pity we can’t grow one of those in our garden.’

The family drove in through the gates, and for a moment, they were unable to speak. Bella knew she couldn’t find the words to describe how what she saw made her feel. She was, after all, only eight years old, but her parents didn’t seem to be able to either.

‘Goodness. How beautiful,’ murmured her mother eventually.

‘Is that it? Is that her house?’ Bella pointed towards the tiny white building at the end of the track. Bright red flowers dripped from window boxes next to shiny blue-and-white tiles dotted randomly around the walls.

‘I believe it is,’ said her mother.

‘I flipping well hope so,’ said her father.

‘It’s beautiful.’ Bella beamed. ‘It’s like a painting. No — no — it’s like a fairy tale. And there’s a chicken, and ducks! And what are those big white birds on that roof?’

‘Well, I never. I think they are storks.’ Her father sounded uncertain until one stood up gracefully and stretched its long white wings. ‘Oh yes. Definitely storks.’

Bella almost screamed. ‘Storks, Mummy! Storks. Pet storks. This is going to be the best holiday ever! I’m going to make a list of all the good things that happen when they happen, then I can look at it when I get home when I’m fed up and stuff.’

She opened her notebook again and wrote:

Really good things about Flo’s house: storks

Good things about Flo’s house: ducks and chickens

Then she saw a swimming pool glistening next to the house and added:

Excellent things about Flo’s house: I can swim all day.

* * *

Bella blinked herself back into the present and peered at the road in front of her. ‘You’d have thought, Great-Aunt Flo, that someone would have done something about this by now.’ She sighed guiltily. ‘I’m sorry I never came back. We always meant to, but life got in the way.’

Turning the engine back on, Bella slowly edged the car along the lane, glancing in her rearview mirror at the new houses at end of the main road that twenty-five years ago had been scrub-land and olive trees.

Her phone buzzed beside her, so she stopped. Are you there yet? Mum x.

Almost , she messaged back. I’ll be in touch when I’ve spoken to the solicitor.

She put it back on the seat next to her and began to drive again, an unexpected nervous churn growling around in her stomach, wondering what the house would be like now that Great-Aunt Florence had passed away. And why she had left it and all the land around it to Bella.

Focusing on the track in front of her as she got closer, she tried to keep the memory of that first childhood glimpse of The Nest in her mind’s eye, rather than the new reality of a once-loved house that had been empty and neglected for over a year.

The jacaranda tree was still there, tall and lush and green, the first signs of purple blossom flecking through the leaves. The old sign was still on the wooden post by the open gate. Bella remembered her aunt pointing at it on their first day when they had walked to the beach, explaining what the bold blue letters meant. ‘ O Ninho ,’ she had said. ‘It’s my little nest. The Nest. And those birds that are painted around the edges are the storks that live on my roof.’ She’d touched it, tracing her hands around the letters and smiled. ‘Time for a swim, come on.’

Bella shook her head, forcing herself back to the present and continued along the drive.

While she parked, a tall man with hair like a hedgehog’s prickles stepped out of a yellow Rolls Royce and waved at her, smiling encouragingly. Bella looked up, took a deep breath, opened the car door and was welcomed by a wave of heat and a loud chorus of cicadas. She braced herself, preparing for the challenge of sorting out the house and selling it so she could go back to her real life with a helpful amount of money in the bank.

‘ Bom dia! Good morning!’ The man strode towards her. ‘How lovely to meet you, Miss Creswell.’ He took her hand and shook it warmly. ‘I am so very sad for your loss. I am aware it was over a year ago and the matter of the property has taken a while to deal with, but nevertheless a loss is a loss.’

‘Thank you.’ Bella attempted a smile. The early-morning start, finishing a report for work on the flight and then the drive to the house had drained her. And she was feeling just a little bit sweaty as the air conditioning in the car didn’t work properly. ‘We were all very sad.’

‘She was a real force of nature.’ The man smiled again. ‘I am so sorry. I should have introduced myself instead of assuming you knew who I was. I am Ignacio. I am here on behalf of your aunt’s advogado to hand over the keys.’

‘Thank you for meeting me here.’ Bella glanced around. ‘I’m sorry I’m a bit late. I had to find a quiet corner of the airport so I could connect to the Wi-Fi and send some information for work. My out-of-office is now on and I just wanted to arrive here and get straight on with it instead of finding my way around Lagos to stock up on supplies — I haven’t been here since I was a child.’

‘Oh, it’s changed a lot over the years.’ Ignacio’s phone buzzed. ‘That’s my reminder — I am sorry to rush you but I am teaching a yoga class in forty-five minutes.’

‘Yoga? I thought you were a solicitor.’

‘I earn extra money by meeting clients for the solicitors. And I do airport runs. And teach tango... but mainly I am a yoga teacher.’ His grin grew even wider. ‘At the age of forty-nine, I decided I needed a change of course so began to study it. And here I now am, doing the thing I love at a retreat called the House on the Hill.’ He sighed happily. ‘And as a result I met the love of my life, Minnie. We are to be married next year.’ He laughed. ‘I didn’t mean to give you my life story. But this place, you know... You watch it, you’ll be in love in no time.’

Bella shook her head. ‘Oh no. I’m not looking for love. I want to make my life easier, not more complicated.’

Ignacio put his hand over his mouth. ‘I’m sorry. That’s inappropriate, given the circumstances. This must be hard for you.’ He touched Bella’s arm kindly. ‘You must come and join us, if you enjoy yoga, of course. I like to work. And—’ he looked at his car, ‘—I brought my old and cherished Rolls Royce that I used to use for weddings here because I feel both you and your Aunt Flo deserve the sense of occasion that brings.’

‘Oh— how lovely.’ Bella managed to get the words out, trying to mask the sudden urge to cry.

Ignacio looked at the floor and shuffled his feet, cleared his throat and patted her on the shoulder. ‘I am also a trained counsellor, but I’m not very good at that, so I don’t do it anymore. I have a tendency to speak before I think. Which isn’t good for counsellors if I’m honest.’

Bella breathed in, breathed out, opened the car door again and took out a bottle of water. ‘I’m a bit dehydrated,’ she mumbled, taking a long gulp. ‘I am also nervous. I didn’t know what to expect. I don’t know what I’m meant to be doing. And I don’t want to let Flo down.’

Ignacio nodded, handing her a large padded envelope. ‘When she left her house to you she knew what she was doing.’

‘What was that?’ Bella took the package.

‘I don’t know.’ He laughed. ‘But you know Flo!’

But I don’t , she thought. I don’t really know her at all.

Ignacio put his briefcase on the patio table. ‘Well, as you are here now, shall we deal with the paperwork?’ He opened it and took out a pen and a file. ‘You need to sign for the keys and the car and go through a few other things.’

‘Ah yes, the car. What’s it like? I’m banking on it being driveable — I’ve only got the hire car for a week as it’s so expensive.’

‘It’s a Fiat Punto. She bought it only three years ago. Barely driven, bright red. She loved bright colours.’

‘Ah. I didn’t see it in the driveway.’

‘It’s in Hugo’s garage. He moved it to keep it clean and safe. He’ll drop it round when it’s convenient for you.’

‘That’s very kind. Who’s Hugo?’

‘He’s your next-door neighbour. He and Flo were very close. He’ll be along to show you around and how to switch things on — you know. He’s been keeping an eye on things. He popped in earlier to meet you but because of your delay in getting here he had to leave.’

‘Oh dear. My job is quite demanding so I had to make sure everything was in order before I signed off.’ She felt an unexpectedly nervous lurch in the pit of her stomach. ‘I rarely have more than five days off in a row. So this long break is something of a challenge.’

Ignacio smiled kindly. ‘Well, you are among friends here, so we will support you for as long as you are here.’

Bella felt tearful again. ‘Gosh, I’m tired. It’s making me overemotional.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I’d better head into Lagos to buy some food.’ She attempted to fight off the tears by trying to sound businesslike and purposeful.

‘Oh, don’t worry about that.’ Ignacio waved his hand at the house. ‘Hugo brought you a few things to keep you going for tonight at least. I think he’s left them in the kitchen. And we have written a list of people who can help you with various things if you need them.’

‘That’s very, very helpful. I love lists.’ Bella’s eyes began to feel heavy. She wondered if any of the beds were made up inside so she could just fall into one and doze off.

Ignacio handed her a pen. ‘If you sign here, here and here—’ he pointed at a form ‘—I will get out of your hair and you can rest.’

She allowed the house to come into full focus now, noticing tiny pockets of grey brick dotting the chipped bright white walls, swathes of grey dirt around the faded blue windows and dry brown stems where the bougainvillea had been, except for one green shoot, fighting for light. Four of the tiles had fallen to the ground next to the front door.

Ignacio picked them up, shaking his head sadly. ‘At least they aren’t completely broken, just a bit around the edges.’ He sighed. ‘Are you planning to stay long?’

‘As long as it takes. But hopefully not too long.’

‘As long as it takes for what?’ Ignacio frowned curiously.

Bella felt tired again and sat on one of the patio chairs. ‘I don’t know.’ She almost laughed, looking up at him. ‘I was so surprised that Great-Aunt Flo left this to me that I haven’t had time to process it. All I know is that I have to do something with it.’ She looked around. ‘Mend it or something?’

‘And sell it?’ Ignacio sat down opposite her. ‘The will stipulates you can’t sell it or rent it for at least six months — and you have to use the sum of money left to make it better — whatever that means. Do you know what that means?’

‘Honestly? I haven’t a clue. And I need to get it sorted — can’t have an empty house in another country to worry about.’ She could feel her voice beginning to rise, so took a breath and tried to control it. ‘My company have let me take all my holiday and I’m going temporarily part-time in three and a half weeks so I can work from here and do whatever needs to be done. And then go home.’

Her eyes began to feel heavy with fatigue. ‘I’m usually very organised. I make lists, I tick tasks off, I plan ahead, I do my research, I think about things before I decide. But...’ She shook her head and tried to smile. ‘On this occasion I couldn’t do any of that. And no, I don’t know what—’ she made an inverted comma sign with her fingers ‘—“make it better” means. But I’m going to sell it. If the market is bad, I may rent it out for a while. Not holiday lets though. Too much work.’

Ignacio nodded. ‘We want to make life easy for you, so you can meet the challenge ahead feeling strong.’

‘Challenge?’ Bella signed the documents and looked back at him. ‘Are you sure you don’t know what she meant by “making it better”? I mean, did she leave a list of things I had to do?’

‘No — we checked. Exactly as it said on the will — make it better. She wrote it a long time ago. I don’t think it would have got past any legal adviser these days.’ Ignacio took the pen from her.

‘It needed to be quantified. Does someone come and check after six months to see if I’ve made it better? And if so, how do they measure it?’ Now her voice was sounding whiny and tired.

‘I think perhaps Flo thought you would know when it was better.’

Bella stared at him. ‘Really? I met her when I was eight. I could be the most untrustworthy person in a room of... I mean a city of... or a...’ She could feel her mind almost fuzzing with fatigue. ‘Or . . . full of untrustworthy people... Oh, I give up.’

Ignacio smiled. ‘Everything will become clear, I’m sure — once you’ve had time to rest.’ He looked into his briefcase. ‘Ah, yes. We found this in the file of her old paperwork — we think it got mixed up and left there by accident.’ He took out a small print with storks painted around the edges and words in pink. ‘It was made for her by our friend, Alice.’

Bella read it and looked at him. Then she read it out loud:

The amble by its very definition does not have to have an actual firm destination, often fizzling out in a café, on a beach, or in a shop en route. Although it isn’t really en route as you are not actually going anywhere. You are ambling.

‘I can’t remember the last time I ambled anywhere. I always have a firm destination.’ Bella looked at it, confused.

‘Always? Even when you go out for a coffee or a walk?’

She smiled. ‘A coffee shop is a firm destination. And when I do my walks for my step count I always plan the route.’

‘Perhaps you will learn the art of ambling here.’

‘No.’ Bella said firmly. ‘I’ve got too much to do and too little time to do it in.’

Ignacio didn’t say anything. Then he closed his briefcase and picked it up. ‘I hope to see you soon, Bella. If you need anything, just ask.’ He walked back to his car. ‘Hugo will be along tomorrow.’

Bella smiled at him and watched as he drove back along the track to the road. Then she took the keys from the envelope and opened the door.

Light flooded the darkened room.

She stood in the doorway for a moment. The space was homely and cluttered, with knick-knacks covering most of the surfaces. A bright pink sofa took pride of place next to a small table painted with mosaics, with four dusky-blue wooden chairs placed untidily around a dirty white table and a large chest of drawers hid in the corner next to the stairs.

She walked inside, particles of dust hanging in the air illuminated by the sun, a dry, musty smell filling the room. She spun slowly around, remembering again that holiday all those years ago, when the house was filled with life and people and noise.

Sitting on the sofa for a moment, Bella mentally began to go through the list of things she needed to sort out before she could get the house in shape. But she felt herself sink into the sofa, as if it was encouraging her to take a nap. Her mind began to fuzz over again, so she forced herself to stand up and walk up the stairs, hoping to find a welcoming bed to rest in for a while.

* * *

Bella rolled onto her back on top of the bedsheet. Her aunt had painted large orange roses on the ceiling, their green stems tangled elegantly around one another. She raised her arm, waving it slowly in the air, tracing the lines with her finger, wondering how Flo had done it. ‘I saw that film with Charlton Heston where he was Michelangelo, and he was lying on his back on a kind of structure. It was Charlton Heston, wasn’t it?’ she murmured, glancing next to her absent-mindedly, to see what Gino thought. Then she remembered he wasn’t there. He hadn’t been lying on any bed anywhere near her for over a year now. Looking at the clock she worked out that as it was 3 p.m. in Portugal, he would quite probably have just climbed out of a bed somewhere in San Francisco. Maybe his. Maybe not.

But wherever he was he would be on his phone working, or his laptop, doing deals and making money. Because that was the most important thing for him, above all else — including, Bella had realised a little too late, her.

‘I don’t care!’ she shouted, then trained her focus back on the ceiling and counted to ten, breathing slowly, forcing him out of her mind. ‘I’ll ask Google and research it myself.’ She sat up and padded along the cool tile floor to the landing, down the stairs and paused next to her luggage. She remembered the food that Hugo had left in the kitchen and decided to prioritise that instead.

Opening the cool bag, she took out some ham, cheese, orange juice, two ready meals — one macaroni cheese and one chilli con carne, three tomatoes, a loaf of bread, some margarine, crisps, hummus and water. Plus three bottles of white wine.

Making a mental note to thank Hugo, she put all of it in the fridge apart from the bread and dips, rummaged around in the cupboards till she found the plates, then took her snack out onto the terrace along with a brown envelope marked ‘ Helpful information ’. The heat wrapped itself around her this time, the cicadas quiet until she scraped a chair towards the table, which they accompanied with loud screeching again as if she was a conductor waving an insect choir into song.

She dipped her bread into the hummus and gazed at the landscape, trying to compare what she saw now with what she’d seen when she was eight. But all she could conjure up was snippets. Flo standing in the garden with a canvas and easel, with Bella next to her with her own, using her brush to paint bright swathes of colour across the paper. Her father pushing her in the homemade swing hanging from the tree behind the house, her mother screaming when she jumped into the unheated swimming pool for the first time.

Bella stood up and walked around to the kitchen door. The tree was still there; the swing was not. The swimming pool lay empty except for drifts of leaves and other litter she didn’t really want to identify.

Back at the terrace Bella sat down again, slightly deflated. She knew there was a lot to do to the house, but she hadn’t the energy to work out what. It would all have to wait until tomorrow, she decided, as that was the most sensible thing to do. She took another bite of bread and dip, then opened the envelope and rummaged through the leaflets and flyers advertising builders, takeaway delivery, hairdressers, painters and decorators, restaurants, gardeners, and people who looked after pools.

Inside was also an A4 typed page, with information about local shops and other amenities, with a photograph of a yoga, mindfulness and dance studio called The House on the Hill. Underneath, Ignacio had written:

If you want some rest from all of the house business, this is a great place. This is where I work with my fiancée Minnie. She runs it with her niece, Layla. It is a very well-established and popular place. Ignacio.

Deciding that keeping up with her yoga was a good use of her time and needed to be scheduled into her days, Bella looked at the phone number, then remembered she needed to ring her parents to tell them all was well — in so far as she had inherited a dilapidated house that needed a lot of love and probably a lot of attention, and she had already realised that she didn’t know where or how to start. Her heart fluttered uncomfortably, understanding, for the first time in a very long time, what being outside her comfort zone felt like.

She took her empty plate back into the kitchen and grabbed her mobile phone from her bag. The phone wouldn’t connect, so she moved around the kitchen then every room, trying to find a signal, before stepping outside and waving it in the air as if she was holding a net to catch good telecommunications reception. This tactic never worked, she knew that, but she always tried it just in case.

Bella sighed, knowing she had to call them or they’d be worried. She decided to drive down the lane towards the new houses in the hope she may get some signal there. Grabbing her keys, she jumped in the car and drove it to the main road, climbed out and rang her mother again. This time the call connected.

‘Bella!’ her mother shouted. ‘I was worried something had happened. Is everything all right? You arrived hours ago. Your father said not to worry, but I do!’

‘There’s no signal at the house, Mum.’ Bella leaned into the car and took out her drink. ‘And I had a nap just after I arrived as I was so tired. I should have rung before I did that, but I just sat on the bed, and the next thing I knew I woke up.’ She took a long gulp of the water. It was very warm.

‘Ah, of course.’ Her mother’s tone sounded calmer immediately. ‘Are you all right? Has the signal gone?’

‘I just had an unexpectedly hot drink.’

‘So—’ her mother’s voice lowered ‘—how is it? Falling down? Half falling down? Absolutely gorgeous?’

‘Needs some love and care. Not sure how much yet.’ Bella’s attention was caught by a stork soaring, serene and elegant, above her. ‘But it will all be all right. I’ll go into town tomorrow, sort out the internet connection and start to research house repairs and renovation.’

‘You don’t have to do it all yourself. You can’t learn how to repair everything with YouTube videos.’

‘I won’t,’ Bella lied.

‘You’ve never done DIY in your life. And, you know, you could just sell it as is. Let someone else sort it out.’

‘I can’t, Mum. I have to make it better... whatever that means. And now I’m here. It feels wrong to leave it like it is. I’ll have more idea of what to do once I’ve been here a few days. It’ll be all under control very soon.’ She almost shouted the last few words, as if she was trying to persuade herself as well as her mum. ‘How is Dad today?’ She had been asking that question almost every day of her life since she was nine years old. But the anxious knot in her stomach she felt every time the words were uttered still came.

‘He’s good today. The new medication seems to be helping.’

‘That’s good. How are you?’

‘Oh, I’m OK. I’m always OK if he’s OK. I’ve got some extra shifts at work too for the next couple of weeks.’

‘Well, don’t overdo it. I can help with money.’

‘You help enough already, Bella. And we are grateful. But spend some of it on yourself.’

‘You’re my mum and dad and I want to spend it on you.’

Her mother paused for a moment. Bella knew she had decided not to argue. That short conversation had been repeated regularly over many, many years. And it always ended the same way.

‘I don’t like to think of you out there on your own in that house,’ her mother said eventually. ‘Is it still so remote?’

‘No need to worry, Mum. The guy who handed over the keys — he knew Flo, told me an old friend of hers — Hugo or something — is next door and happy to help.’ As she said the word ‘help’, Bella’s mind began to churn with a list of all the jobs she may have to do before selling it.

‘Oh yes... We met Hugo when we came over — I don’t suppose you’d remember — his family have lived next door for ever. It’s nice to know he’s still there. They owned that lovely café by the beach.’ There was a pause. ‘Maybe you’ll meet a young nice man there, Bella, to help you get over that—’

Bella interrupted her before her mother could say ‘Gino’ and voice her negative opinion of him. She didn’t want to be reminded of her massive lack of rational judgement when she had first met him, how she had ignored all the ‘red flags’ her mother had mentioned periodically. ‘I’m here to sort the house out, Mum, and come home. I won’t have time to meet a nice young man... and anyway, I don’t know where I would find one.’ She almost laughed.

A dog barked in the distance at the sound of a car backfiring loudly, making Bella jump. ‘I’d better go. I haven’t unpacked yet. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love to Dad. Bye.’

She ended the call, then logged onto her work email account to check that the report she’d sent from the airport had arrived.

There were no messages.

She began to type.

Bella here. Just checking the report I sent arrived. I was on dodgy Wi - Fi at the airport when I filed it. I need to take it off my list of work tasks.

An answer arrived immediately.

Hi, Bella. I sent the acknowledgement earlier. It must be hovering in cyberspace. Lil Mulvaney.

Sporadic phone signal so maybe that’s the problem. As long as I know. Bella

Is the weather lovely? Lil

Nice and warm , Bella responded. I’ll mark it as done in the diary then. Enjoy the rest of your day.

She got back in the car and headed to her new, albeit temporary, home, took her work diary out of her bedroom drawer and entered the report as completed.