of driving had come back to her, as though it was second nature to her. The local authority had made special provision for her to take her test under the name that she was now using, and once she had passed she had been able to pick up this little runabout for next to nothing. It had been one more step on the way to getting her life back.
The hamlet where she had been living these last few months nestled in a green valley, set between the rolling hills that formed the southern tip of the Pennine range. All around there was lush vegetation, heather-clad moorland and trees whose branches swayed in the gentle summer breeze. Here and there she caught a glimpse of a river in the distance, the sunlight glinting on the surface of the water so that it looked like a ribbon of silver winding its way through the verdant meadowland.
After a while, Sarah turned the car off the country road into a narrow lane that led towards two isolated properties. Approaching the small cottage, she drew the car to a halt on the gravelled forecourt and gazed around her. This had to be the right place. There was a wall plaque that read BRIDGE END COTTAGE.
She slid out of the car and went to take a closer look. Everywhere was silent, deserted looking, and there were no other cars to be seen. Perhaps whoever lived in the neighbouring house was out at work.
She let her glance trail over the adjacent property. It was a grand affair, well kept and truly impressive, with a steeply sloping roof and dormer windows and an attractive single- storey extension to the main building. She gave a faint sigh. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the house she was here to look at.
She turned her attention back to Bridge End Cottage and frowned. There was a general air of neglect around the stone- built house, and the shrubs that scrambled against the front wall were overgrown and unkempt. It wasn’t at all what she had expected to see after the brief, enthusiastic summary the estate agent had given her.
‘You’re really fortunate,’ he had said. ‘The cottage has only just come into our hands, and we haven’t put the details out on the market yet. You’ll be the first to view it, and I’m sure it will suit your needs down to the ground. The rent’s not too high, it’s compact, with a garage on the side, and there’s a mature garden at the back.’
Sarah wasn’t sure what the rest of the house would reveal, but she could see right away that the garage roof was in need of repair. Some of the tiles were missing, and it looked as though there was a tear in the roofing felt. As to the main building, it was clear that the window-frames hadn’t seen a lick of paint in a long, long time.
She steeled herself to go and take a look at the rest of the property. It was small wonder that the rent was so low, but could she afford to be picky? Did she really have much choice about what she could take on when her budget was limited, to say the least?
She walked over to the porch and tried her key in the lock, but when she attempted to turn it, nothing happened. It wouldn’t budge. Frustrated, she took it out and examined to see if it was damaged in some way. It wasn’t, as far as she could tell, so she tried again.
Still nothing. She ground her teeth in silent frustration. Had the agent given her the wrong key? He had been pushed for time, and certainly he had appeared to be distracted by other customers walking into the office, all of which had left her with this dilemma. The last thing she wanted was to have to go all the way into town to pick up another one.
Maybe she could take a look around the back of the house and peer in through the windows? At least that would give her some idea of what the place had to offer.
She pushed open the wooden side gate, wincing as it creaked on its hinges in protest, and went through to the garden at the back of the house. Her eyes widened as she looked around. The estate agent’s jargon had termed it mature, but that had been an understatement. This was a jungle, an overgrowth of rampant shrubs and tangled trees. It had obviously been a long while since any work had been done in this garden.
Turning her attention towards the house, Sarah tried the back door and found that it was locked. Then, as she stood considering her options, her gaze brightened a fraction. There was a window open on the ground floor, and that brought all kinds of possibilities to mind. She was slender enough to wriggle her way through it if she could climb up on something and reach up as far as the sill. After all, it wouldn’t be breaking and entering, would it, or even trespass, as she had permission to be here and view the property?
The thought was no sooner in her mind than she was acting on it. An overturned metal bucket made a handy step, and in the blink of an eye she had clambered up and was aiming to slide through the narrow window space. The pocket of her denim jeans snagged on the latch that jutted from the sill, and she halted for a moment or two, trying to free herself.
The bucket fell with a clatter, but she ignored the commotion and after a moment she continued to squirm through the gap. The window opened into a kitchen, and the sink unit was handily placed for her to ease herself into the room.
Success was just a breath away. One more thrust of her hips and she would be in.
‘Can I help you in any way?’ The firm male voice cut into the silence like the smooth crack of a whip, and Sarah froze.
Where had he come from? Whoever he was, he didn’t sound as though he was at all ready to lend a helping hand. Just the opposite, in fact.
‘Uh…I don’t think so,’ she murmured, stuck in the incongruous position of being caught half in and half out of the window, with her back to the intruder.
‘Really? Only you seem to be having some difficulty getting into the property. It occurs to me that the reason for that could be that you aren’t following the normal procedure. Most people would prefer to make use of the door.’
‘Yes. That’s very true.’ She started to twist around, easing herself into a sitting position. ‘I wonder what on earth could have made me think that going through the window would be easier?’ Cautiously, she let her fingers lightly rest on the window-frame so that she could keep her balance.
Her sarcasm was clearly lost on him, because he answered smoothly, ‘Those were my thoughts exactly. I have to say it occurred to me that there’s the advantage of not being seen from the front of the house.’ He paused. ‘Of course, that’s assuming you don’t kick buckets over and make your whereabouts known.’
Her gaze flicked downwards in the direction of the voice, and she found herself looking at a pair of long legs encased in olive-green chinos. Letting her glance sweep upwards, she saw that her interrogator was flat stomached, and that his chest, covered by an expensively tasteful linen shirt, broadened out to complement a pair of wide, capable-looking shoulders. His body was fit, honed to lean perfection, and even before her eyes had reached his face and meshed with his dark, piercing gaze, the breath had snagged in her throat.
Good looking was not an apt description. She swallowed hard. He was awesome, and well worth a second glance, if only she hadn’t been diverted by the way he was standing there, calmly assessing her, his grey eyes glimmering with a brooding expression that she found hard to fathom.
She managed to find her voice once more. Breathing evenly to keep her composure, she said, ‘Actually, you don’t need to concern yourself about me being here. I know it must look odd, but there is a perfectly reasonable explanation.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you’d care to enlighten me?’
‘Yes, of course.’ She frowned. Surely he wasn’t the owner of the property, who had come back to take a last look around? No one with his muscular build and general look of vitality would have left the place to fall into ruin, would they? She said carefully, ‘I have the wrong key. I mean, I thought I had the right key, but something’s wrong with it.’
‘Hmm. I can see how that would be a problem.’ His gaze narrowed on her, and she had the strong impression that he believed she was making it up as she went along. ‘Perhaps you should let me help you down from there and we might be able to find a way to sort this out.’
Sarah