for a few hours. After all, isn’t this what you’re here for—peace and quiet?”
~ * ~
Lara watched him go, striding down the beach twirling a towel in his hand. She missed him already. Ridiculous. She rubbed her hand across the tarnished surface of the bell she still clutched against her. Setting it down, she began to open the various cupboards and drawers in the kitchen peering inside each one and then moved to the living room area, finishing in the bedrooms.
“Okay, Mr. Smarty Fisherman,” she said aloud. “I know you think I’m a helpless and hopeless female. Let’s see if I can surprise you.”
Three hours later she sat in the armchair by the fireplace, looked around and gave a nod of satisfaction. Jack’s home, his pride and joy, glistened and sparkled in the mid-day sun as if it had been touched by a magic wand.
She had found a good supply of cleaning materials, including disinfectants and polish and even a bottle of bleach, and had set to work on the tiny house scrubbing, cleaning and polishing every surface. She had washed the windows and aired the linen stored in a large cupboard in the passage and even swept and washed the wooden porch.
Her gaze roamed across the living and dining areas and came to rest on the vase of native flowers she had picked from behind the house. The finishing touch, she decided. Let him make fun of her now with his cynical throwaway lines about her being a snob and too stuck up to get her hands dirty.
She glanced at the filth on her hands then at her grimy and stained top and skirt and grinned. He couldn’t say she hadn’t got “down and dirty.” She thought for a moment of her two best friends, Jade and Kate, and the apartment they had shared in Adelaide until very recently.
Neither of her friends had been keen on housework and preferred to be out and about and involved in their university activities. But, she had loved taking care of their stylish home and had reveled in the housework, even though her parents had offered to provide her with servants. Jade and Kate swore it was only because she had been spoiled and had everything done for her in the royal households that she found pleasure in the basic daily chores of keeping their apartment tidy and clean.
She had been inclined to agree with them even though she had made some ignorant and terrible mistakes. The girls had yet to forgive her for turning their clothes a shocking pink in a washing machine venture which had gone drastically wrong.
Checking her watch, she saw it was already twelve thirty. Jack must be starving—she knew she was. She washed her hands in the sink and grimaced again at the state of her clothes. She would need to change before calling him for lunch. Opening the larder door, she studied the array of cans. Yes, he had been right when he’d said there was a good supply. She settled on a large can of beef stroganoff accompanied by green beans and baby carrots.
After she had poured the ingredients into saucepans and set them in place on the shining stove, she arranged two places at the dining room table, together with a jug of water and tumblers. She moved the vase of flowers into the center of the table and stood back to admire her handiwork.
“Magnificent. I’m very impressed.” Jack’s deep voice made her jump and she turned to find him leaning against the doorjamb, his arms folded across his chest as he surveyed the scene before him.
She looked at her grubby clothes and wished she’d had time to change. “I only flicked a duster around as you suggested,” she said with a mischievous smile.
He strolled in and stood in front of her. A grin stretched across his face as he touched a streak of dirt on her cheek with a long finger. “Thanks, Lara. You’ve done a great job, even if you did manage to get yourself in a mess in the process.”
Her heart began its now familiar erratic thumping at his touch and the look in his eyes. “You’re not exactly Mr. Perfect,” she blurted, more to hide her embarrassment than anything.
Laughing, he looked at his own oil-streaked and dirty clothes. “Touché. But, I’ve got good news. Although I didn’t fix the radio, I have managed to start Jezebel. We can pack up and leave for Seagull Island right after lunch.”
“Oh.” She found it