The House that Florence Left (Portuguese Paradise #4)

Chapter 3

Having collapsed into bed the previous night following another bout of cleaning, Bella woke to a cat squeaking into her ear. For the year after Gino left there had been no morning noise inside her flat, only that of bin lorries and buses outside. Opening her eyes, confused, she managed to remember where she was and that two cats were now living with her.

There were the regular morning messages on her phone from colleagues and her boss sent at 8 a.m. in their work group chat. She absent-mindedly tried to read them, then remembered she wasn’t technically supposed to be at work, just as the signal disappeared. Bella looked at the screen, contemplating going in search of some internet again to check the progress of some of the projects she had handed over. The cat began to hit her face with its paw, so she gently moved it out of the way and put the phone down.

Climbing out of bed, she put on a wrap and walked downstairs, the cat running in front of her. ‘Aww, Yin or Yang, you’re very sweet.’ The other cat was sitting by its food bowl. ‘Are you hungry, Yin or Yang?’ She took the food out of the pouches and spooned it into the bowls. ‘I’ve got to go out for a moment to find some mobile phone connection so I can answer those messages from work. You never know, I may have missed something and I need to check.’

Someone knocked on the door. ‘God, what time is it?’ She looked at the clock on the wall. ‘Eight thirty? Bit early.’

She stepped out of the kitchen into the hallway and shouted, ‘Who is it?’

‘Hugo.’

‘Hugo?’ She opened the door. ‘Hello.’

His dark hair was wet, curling down towards his neck, his sweatshirt scattered with damp spots and he wasn’t smiling. Bella felt an unwanted and confusing urge to move closer to him, but she held onto the door and stood still.

‘I’ve delivered Flo’s car. I’ve left it in the driveway. I drove straight through because of the buzzer-on-the-gate-not-working issue.’

‘Thank you. I’ve added it to the list of things to fix.’ She stepped aside to let him in, deciding that it was best to be friendly despite his sudden change of mood the day before. She smiled at the little red Fiat that was parked next to her rental car. ‘Would you like a tea or coffee? I’ll put the kettle on.’

He looked like he was going to say no, but nodded and almost smiled. ‘A glass of water would be nice. I’ve just been for my morning swim and then rushed around here before work. My throat’s a bit dry.’ He followed her into the kitchen. ‘You have been busy already I see. All the dust has gone.’

Bella handed him a glass of water. ‘Some of it has gone.’ She leaned against the cupboard and folded her arms. ‘Small steps, I suppose.’

‘If you put it on the market it would go in a flash.’ He sipped the water. ‘And you could leave it to the new owners to clean and renovate. I understand things will change.’ He looked around the room. ‘I have to apologise for yesterday. I’m just very sad because being Flo’s neighbour was a privilege and a pleasure and I miss her every day.’

Bella nodded, trying to work out what to say. Flo was simply the whisper of a happy memory for her, part of another, more carefree life long, long ago. The one that changed in the space of a minute, when she was a child. ‘It must be difficult for you,’ she said eventually.

‘For you too.’ His expression warmed.

Bella tried not to notice. ‘It’s a practical difficulty, to be honest. I can’t sell for six months according to the will, and I have to “make it better” before I do anything.’

He shook his head. ‘Flo — a one-off right to the end. What about the long-term rental option? Is that realistic?’

‘Not really. It’s too much of a tie. Too much responsibility. But I need to find out what the estate agents say, I suppose. It could be a short-term solution. At least that is all tangible and measurable. It’s much easier to write “tangible and measurable” in a list than “make it better”.’ She put her hands in the air and used her fingers to make inverted commas.

‘I’m here. I always promised Flo I’d make sure everything was done properly if anything happened.’ He smiled. ‘I’m surprised that’s not in the will.’

‘Thank you. I’ll bear that in mind when things have settled a bit.’

‘Just remember. When you sell, be careful. Take advice about the buyers.’

‘OK. Is there anything you need to tell me?’ She tried to read his face, but he was already heading for the door.

‘Actually—’ Bella followed him ‘—Where’s the storks’ nest? I remember one when I was here when I was eight. Years ago. But I loved it so much I put it on my list of things to research when I got home!’

He looked up to the roof on the outbuilding. ‘There were storks. There was a nest on the chimney over the outbuilding. But not since your aunt died. They left. It’s strange really... Storks are protected in Portugal, you know. If they were here and you sold the place, the owners would have to get special permission to knock that down.’ He turned away again. ‘I’d better go.’

‘Ah, OK, I see,’ she said.

He glanced back. ‘Not that you’d want to knock a place like this down. It’s unique. If you need anything else, let me know.’ He walked down the track and onto the road.

Bella watched him. She knew he was attractive, but she didn’t want to know really. That was the last thing she wanted. Although, she decided, she was allowed to find him attractive on an intellectual level, but was not allowed to actually feel that attractiveness.

She bit her lip and took a breath, remembering how she found Gino attractive on every single level, with every part of herself. Then a tiny, familiar, lonely ache began to overwhelm her, pushing her onto the patio to escape it. Bella took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to enjoy the scent of orange blossom and sea.

Hugo’s words floated back into her consciousness. The owners would have to get special permission to knock that down...

Not sure I really want anyone to knock any of it down, actually, Aunt Flo , she thought, listening to the breeze ruffle through the trees. Especially as I’m going to have to put all this work in to make it better.

Bella opened her eyes and went back inside to get ready, determined to sort out the internet so she could access her spreadsheets and get on with the job she had come to Portugal to do.

* * *

Bella parked the Fiat close to the supermarket near the marina and walked past the boats, the riggings rattling in the wind, dark grey clouds rushing across the sky, covering up patches of bright blue as they did, the sun occasionally peeping shyly through the gaps. It felt as if someone was flicking a light switch on and off.

Heading over the marina footbridge to the avenida, which stretched the length of the river as it flowed out to sea, she took big, fresh breaths of air and hurried along the cobbled path, almost laughing as the wind pushed her forward, forcing her to walk faster. Pausing for a moment, she took a map that had been in the information pack out of her bag and studied it, then crossed the road and walked past a carousel towards a square, where a large statue of what she assumed was a king stood next to a café outside which a busker was setting up a microphone and sound system.

A wisp of a memory fluttered through her mind. Of stalls of trinkets and jewellery, people walking and laughing and music and dancing on a warm summer’s night many, many years before. And there was Flo in a bright red dress, her auburn hair tied up casually with artfully escaped curls snaking down her neck. ‘Let’s get you a hair braid, Bella, shall we? And maybe a henna tattoo. But don’t tell your parents it was my idea.’

Bella sat on a bench, the snippet fading to a black-and-white memory again, staring at the birds flitting along the branches of a tree. She thought about her aunt and how she would feel about Bella and her plans. What do you want me to do with your house, Aunt Flo? All I wrote down before I came out here was ‘How to Make it Better’ and ‘Information on Selling’. But I don’t know how to measure ‘better’.

The busker began to strum his guitar. Bella stood up and, as she walked to the next square, burst out laughing when she realised he was singing, ‘There Are More Questions Than Answers’. She shook her head, giggling, then began to search for the building with the lime-green tiles, where, the instructions had said, ‘ The mobile phone shop is opposite and you can get information on setting up the internet there .’

Stopping off in the square for a drink on the way back, Bella scrolled through her phone for information about storks, wondering why they were protected. Logging onto a site called ‘I Love Storks’, she read through the information and took a screenshot of a paragraph she found at the bottom.

Under decree law 140/99 storks and their nests are protected in Portugal. The law protects them against the disturbance, removal or destruction of their nests outside authorised periods. Permission to remove the nests has to be requested from the ICNF (Institute for Nature and Forest Conservation). The ICNF are responsible for stipulating if, how and when any nests can be moved.

Despite the fact that there were no storks at her aunt’s house, in the spirit of ‘you can never have too much information’, she would add it to her spreadsheet once she got access to it. She left some money for her drink and got up. On the wall behind next to the exit was a poster advertising the House on the Hill, Ignacio’s yoga, mindfulness and dance studio in Lagos. She took a photo of it and decided to add it to the list of things to research when she got home too. When the broadband had been connected.

As she walked off her phone pinged several times. There were three voicemails from work, a couple of WhatsApp messages and some texts. Bella squinted at it and sighed as she read the first text:

I know you made it clear on the handover that you weren’t available for any calls for three weeks, but no one can find the final report for the board you did before you left. HELP! Joanna.

The second one read:

Final report missing — where is it? Kirk

The third one read:

Apologies for interrupting your Portuguese sojourn, but we are all running around like headless chickens here. Not like you to leave without every t crossed and every i dotted. So, where is the financial report? Lil P.S. we’re all missing you already and it’s only the first full day of your break!

Bella felt her jaw clench irritably, so she crossed the road and sat on the wall along the river, deciding not to listen to the voicemails or look at the messages as she knew they’d all be the same. She called Lil.

‘Hi.’ Her colleague sounded very flustered. ‘I’m so sorry. I know your out-of-office is on, but we’ve got this board meeting in three hours, and I need to read the report before I go in.’

‘I’ve filed it in the F drive, where I always do.’ Bella tried to sound assertive and calm at the same time.

‘Is it?’ Lil started clicking a keyboard very loudly.

‘Yes . . .’ Bella listened patiently.

‘Oh my God! It is. Why couldn’t we find it?’

‘I can’t answer that, but I’m glad you’ve got it.’ Bella began to amble along the avenida towards the footbridge over to the marina.

‘I think we all panicked because you’ve gone so quickly. Even though you’ll be working from there soon but...’ Lil’s voice started to rise. ‘We can’t do without you, Bella.’

‘That’s good to know. But yes you can.’ Bella laughed. ‘Honestly, it’s all there. Just have confidence.’

‘Before I go,’ Lil sounded like she was gathering files from a desk — Why didn’t you answer our messages straight away? You always do. It sent us over the edge I think.’

‘There’s no internet connection at the house as yet and only sporadic mobile phone signal,’ Bella replied.

‘Oh my God, you’ll go mad. You without instant access to the internet.’ Lil guffawed, then coughed. ‘I’ve got to go. Enjoy the rest of whatever it is you’re doing.’

‘Thank you.’ Bella smiled despite herself and put some coins in the hat of a Charlie Chaplin living statue as she walked past. ‘I won’t go mad without it. Just a bit irritated.’

Lil lowered her voice conspiratorially. ‘I think you should have a holiday romance. Get on Portuguese dating apps immediately.’

‘I’m not on holiday, Lil. Business trip. I mean—’ Bella felt her face turn red.

‘We came up with that list, didn’t we? After Gino.’

‘Well . . .’

‘I don’t think connections are about lists though. I think you meet someone and there’s something you maybe can’t identify and you go from there.’

‘When I thought about Gino after the list we made he pretty much ticked every box. It wasn’t just rational, it was instinctive too.’

‘He’s in San Francisco now though.’

Bella hesitated for a moment, trying to think of a response that would make sense of that. In the end she said, ‘Yes, but—’

‘But?’

‘I like men who are organised, ambitious, respectful.’ Bella mentally ran through her list again. ‘Optimistic, fit, financially independent, sexy, attractive.’

‘Well, you can’t quantify the last two, can you?’ Lil laughed.

Bella began to laugh. ‘I thought you had to rush back to work for that meeting.’

‘Yes, I do. Look after yourself. Bye.’ She put the phone down.

Bella thought of the note Gino had left on her pillow after he’d cleared his things out of her flat.

It’s been a blast. But you’re so work oriented I can’t see a future. Bye, Bella. G x

Said the man who was glued to his computer from 7 a.m. till 10 p.m. every day , had been her first thought.

It was as if you’d left six months before you’d actually left , was her second thought.

I felt at the end you were just a lodger , was her third thought. A very tidy and contained lodger who used to complain if I left a dish unwashed or a slipper discarded, or a T-shirt left on the bed. No wonder I disappeared into my work.

And then she started to cry.

* * *

Bella spent the afternoon cleaning the kitchen cupboards, standing on chairs to disperse cobwebs in dusty dark corners, eventually clambering down after trying unsuccessfully to prod a large cobweb away. Then she began to move the pink-and-lime chest of drawers out from the wall, somehow hurting her shoulder as she did.

‘Ow!’ Pain shot around her back. Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw something move, but when she looked again, she couldn’t see anything.

The cats appeared in the doorway. Bella slid to the ground and looked at the ceiling. Yin and Yang wandered over to her and sat at her feet.

‘I need to stretch and relax. I need yoga,’ she told them, pulling herself up from the floor using the furniture. She picked up her phone from the table. There was still no signal, so she grabbed her bag, put on her sunglasses, locked the door behind her and headed towards Hugo’s café and the elusive Wi-Fi.

Pink blossom hung from the trees lining the track to the road, the spring sun glowing welcomingly, warming her back and relaxing her aching muscles. Music drifted from the café and she heard voices talking animatedly, growing louder as she got closer.

Turning onto the pathway to the sea she realised that this time, she wasn’t the only customer. A large group of people were drinking coffee, studying maps, scrolling through information on their phones and talking animatedly. Their tables were strewn with binoculars and sun hats, with multicoloured walking poles lying on the floor around them.

‘Hello, neighbour. Are you taking up birdwatching?’ Hugo had put a tray of drinks down on a table.

Bella smiled, wondering that if she saw him often enough, he would become less handsome due to familiarity, then decided to look up the psychology of that once her internet was connected. ‘Is that what this is?’

‘It’s spring, so great for birds. The estuary over there is a haven for the ones that are flying back from North Africa. It’s like an avian airport hub like Heathrow or Frankfurt.’

‘Ah. Maybe I’ll get one or two interesting species in my garden.’

‘I hope you don’t.’ Hugo walked over to her and said quietly, ‘You’ll be inundated with twitchers if they find out.’

‘Twitchers?’

‘Birdwatchers. It happened to me a few years ago, and to your aunt and Will. Some of them camped overnight.’ He grimaced. ‘Without our permission.’

‘Oh dear.’

‘What would you like to drink?’ His face was serious so Bella wasn’t sure if he’d found the episode funny or not.

‘Just a latte please.’

‘ Gal?o coming up!’ He nodded and walked away, pausing at another table to collect some plates.

Bella took her phone out of her bag, connected to the internet and booked herself a yoga class for the following morning, then scrolled through a list of estate and lettings agents to get an idea what kind of price she might get for selling or renting the house, taking screenshots of a few for reference.

Hugo came back with her drink and put it on the table.

‘Maybe the twitchers could tell me about storks,’ she said.

‘If you ask them any questions about any kind of bird they will talk to you for ever and I will never get my tables back.’ His face was unreadable again.

‘I just want to know what would happen if the storks ever came back.’

‘Unlikely. But if you sell it’s not your problem, is it?’

Bella detected a slight frown. ‘I’m only trying—’

A customer caught his attention. ‘Excuse me,’ he said, turning away to talk to them.

‘—to gather information. It’s what I do,’ mumbled Bella.

Finishing her drink, she left the money on the table and decided to walk down to the sea before going back to the farmhouse. She took her shoes off and sighed as her feet touched the sand. It was cool and soft, so she wiggled her toes and set off, pausing occasionally to admire her footprints. Picking up some shells on the shoreline she breathed in the fresh, salty sea air and gazed at the sea, remembering.

Her father was standing waist deep in the water, laughing at her mother, who was attempting to catch the waves with a boogie board. Bella floated around on her back, watching the clouds drift past, until her father began to splash her.

‘Dad!’ Bella giggled, managing to stand up before attempting to pick up some water in her hand so she could throw it at him.

‘Useless,’ he guffawed, as she jumped and accidentally trickled it over her own head.

‘She’s just trying to surprise you with a different approach,’ her mother said kindly.

Bella held up her arm and banged it onto the surface of the water, then pulled it out. ‘I’m dragging the sea out,’ she squealed, pushing it towards her dad. Then he picked her up, kissed her on the cheek and dropped her with a splash. Bella sank, immersed in the water, the world suddenly muted, until she burst out of the waves, shaking the sea out of her hair.

A droplet of rain touched Bella’s face, followed by a steady pitter-patter as it hit the sand, dragging her back to the present. Before the accident. Only a few months before. Is that why you got me here, Aunt Flo? To remember our last holiday before Dad got hurt? Because I had to grow up very quickly after that.

She looked at the sea again to try to find her eight-year-old self, as the rain grew heavier, holding her arms out. She looked up at the sky, enjoying the feel of cool water, then turned and ran back to the path, allowing her hair to get steadily more wet, her clothes to cling to her body. By the time she reached the café, she was drenched.

‘Oh dear, that was a sudden shower.’ Hugo watched her as she took cover.

Bella laughed. ‘Actually, it was surprisingly lovely.’ She glanced down at her sodden trousers. ‘I’d better be going.’

He looked at her, half amused. ‘Can I lend you an umbrella?’

Bella turned her head to the sky. The rain showed no signs of stopping. ‘Thanks. But I may as well give in, so no. In for a penny, in for a pound.’

‘Your aunt loved walking in the rain.’ He shook his head and smiled.

Bella nodded then hurried down the steps and along the track towards the house.

Standing under the terrace, she fished her keys out of her bag and watched her clothes drip into a satisfying puddle under her feet, then jumped up and down to shake as much moisture off them as possible. Looking around to check no one could see her, she took off her clothes and walked into her house, leaving them in a damp pile outside. ‘Would have ruined the floor,’ she told the cats, putting the keys on the table next to the door, where she had left the picture Ignacio had given her.

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.

Bella looked at it for a few moments. ‘As soon as the internet is connected I’ll have absolutely no time for ambling,’ she explained to it.

She walked up the stairs to the shower, her mind filling with a list of things she needed to do with every step, slowly leaving behind the eight-year-old Bella that had briefly reappeared in the rain.