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Authors: Holly Ford

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BOOK: Storms Over Blackpeak
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Cally drew the curtains the next morning to find a light, needling rain had set in over Glencairn, misting the tops of the hills and damping down the garden. For once, the house wasn’t empty by the time she got downstairs. She could hear the radio going behind Carr’s office door, and in the kitchen Ash was still drinking his coffee, his work-socked feet up on a chair, yesterday’s paper propped on his knees.

‘Morning,’ he smiled, glancing up. ‘There’s coffee in the pot if you want some.’

‘Thanks.’ Cally poured herself one and looked around
the kitchen, planning her day. Spotting the cap from last night’s wine bottle still on the dresser, she scooped it up and opened the rubbish bin. A mound of microwaveable pie wrappers confronted her. She sighed. Okay. What was she going to cook tonight, then?

Out in the cool room, she rummaged through the enormous chest freezer. Best stick to the top baskets this time. Chops, sausages, more chops. Unidentifiable things. Mince … Cally felt a wave of nausea. In fact, even sausages were a bit close to mince. She tried the next basket. Chops, chops, chops … Chops it was, then. With mashed potatoes, carrots and frozen peas. What could possibly go wrong?

Ash looked up again as she returned to the kitchen.

‘These are for human consumption, right?’ Cally held the freezer bag up to the light. ‘They’re not — dog tucker, or something?’

‘Nope, you should be all good.’ He grinned. ‘There’s a separate freezer for that.’

Good to know.

Cally put the chops on the draining board, then, remembering Doug, who had vanished the moment she opened her bedroom door, decided their dinner might be safer shut in the microwave.

Now what should she do? Heading out to the laundry, she emptied the dryer and started to put on another load of washing.

She poked her head back around the door. ‘Anything you’d like washed?’

‘Yeah.’ Putting the paper down, Ash scrambled up. ‘Hang on, I’ll bring it down.’

Cally carried the basket of clean laundry through and set it on the table. Gosh. Men’s underpants were quite tricky to fold. All those seams and curvy bits. Who knew? She looked
up to see Ash watching her, a pair of muddy jeans in his hand and a horrified expression on his face.

‘You don’t—’ He cleared his throat. ‘You can just leave those. I’ll do them.’

‘It’s okay, I don’t mind.’ Smoothing her folds, she hid a smile. For heaven’s sake, they were just underpants. It wasn’t as if he were in them. What was there to be embarrassed about? Reaching into the basket, Cally pulled out a pair of her own knickers, and rapidly changed her mind. It wouldn’t be so bad, she thought, furtively stuffing them back in, if they didn’t look like a junior version of his. What was she, a ten-year-old boy? What was wrong with lace and ribbons, for God’s sake?

There, a T-shirt, that ought to be safe. Cally smoothed it out on the table. Ash, she noticed, was still standing in the doorway.

‘Here.’ She held out her hand for his jeans. ‘I’ll throw those in the washing machine.’

With a little shake of his head, he moved at last. ‘I’ll do it.’

She finished folding the T-shirt. ‘Would you like these ironed?’ she called, shaking out a checked shirt.

‘No.’ Ash — back in the kitchen and closer behind her than she’d thought — seemed amused by the question. ‘Don’t worry about those.’

Carefully, she aligned the sleeves.

‘It’s supposed to clear up this afternoon,’ Ash said.

She nodded.

‘I was wondering,’ he added, ‘if you had time to give me a hand with Windy today. Later on, I mean.’

Surprised, Cally glanced at him.

Ash looked slightly embarrassed. ‘He likes it when you’re there.’

 

By Friday, Cally had finally worked her way around to tackling the homestead’s upper floor. Luckily, she’d done the master bedroom first, because Lizzie had turned up just after lunch, and she and Carr had promptly disappeared inside it.

Having made up a guest room for — what were their names again? Lizzie’s daughter and her boyfriend. Ella and Luke? — Cally arrived at Ash’s door. You’re supposed to be here, she reminded herself, pushing it open. It’s your job. He doesn’t mind. He’s not allowed to.

Oh! She was in the turret. How lovely — she hadn’t realised that was this room. The room Ash had grown up in, presumably, although there was little sign of that now. Staring at the beautiful stone windows, Cally smiled to herself. The perfect castle for a little prince. Until the wicked fairy stole him away …

Gosh, he was neat, though. The room looked like it had been readied for a military-style inspection. Which she felt sure it would pass. There was a South American-looking blanket tucked with great precision around the bed, and a couple of old oil paintings of horses on the wall, but otherwise Ash’s bedroom seemed about as personal to him as hers was to her; as if it had been cleared out once and never properly reinhabited. Reaching the bed, she bent to admire Ash’s hospital corners.

Fuck! Cally let out a yelp as something seized her ankle. Heart pounding, she looked down to see a set of furry paws. Bloody Doug! She took a step backwards, dragging the cat out from under the bed. Looking very pleased with himself, Doug rolled over and rubbed his face against her trainers.

‘Out of here,’ she told him sternly, picking him up and depositing him in the hall.

Having closed the door, Cally ran her duster over the room’s few pieces of dark oak furniture: a couple of nightstands,
a blanket box, a desk on top of which a battered laptop sat charging. Was that all Ash had? A computer and a blanket?

Beneath the window seat she found, at last, some evidence that a child had lived in this room — two shelves of books that, judging by the state of their spines, had passed through more than one generation of Fergusson hands. She studied the titles. Were they
all
about horses? No. There was also a tatty hardback copy of
White Fang.

God, what was that rumble? Did they have earthquakes here, too? Cally hurried to her feet as the mullioned glass of the turret window started to rattle.

Abruptly, the rumble stopped. Kneeling on the window seat, she peered out. A very expensive-looking sports car was parked in the drive below, its low-slung body still managing to gleam despite the dust of the access road. As she watched, a tall man in a suit got out and looked up at the house, pushing his aviator shades up into his short dark hair. An elegant blonde climbed out of the passenger seat, wearing black jodhpurs and riding boots below a rather Victorian-looking high-necked blouse. Cally sighed in envy. Now
there
was a couple who belonged on the same billboard. Possibly one selling that car.

Were Carr and Lizzie out yet? With a quick swipe of the window sill, Cally hurried down to intercept their guests.

By the time she got there, the blonde was already in the kitchen.

‘You must be Cally,’ she beamed, putting an enormous camera bag down on a chair. ‘I’m Ella. Ella Harrington.’

Taking in the sleek gold hair, the flawless skin, the blue eyes, Cally tried not to stare; she imagined Ella got sick of people doing that. The girl practically glowed. So this was Lizzie’s daughter, huh? Well, of course it was. Why was she surprised?

‘Oh! What a pretty cat. Is he yours?’ Picking the cat up, Ella smiled into his eyes.

Cally gave an inward sigh. Even Doug looked dazzled.

‘Hi.’ Ella’s boyfriend walked in with the rest of the bags. Dropping them, he held out his hand. ‘Luke Halliday.’

Close up, he was much younger than she’d thought. No more than a few years older than Ash, probably. Although comparing the two seemed a bit like comparing two different species.

Cally took his hand. Luke’s eyes — a rather stunning shade of green, thickly lashed — swept over her, taking more time about it than guys who looked like him usually bothered to spend. She felt her cheeks starting to glow. He was hard to look away from.

‘This is Cally,’ Ella supplied, in a gentle tone that suggested girls forgot their own names around Luke quite often. ‘She’s just started looking after the house for Carr.’

‘Pleasure to meet you.’ Luke gave her a devastating smile.

Cally strove to pick her jaw up.

‘Is Lizzie around?’ Ella asked.

‘She’s, um …’ Cally glanced involuntarily out the window, where Carr’s ute and Lizzie’s Land Rover stood side by side. ‘She might be upstairs. I think.’

Ella and Luke exchanged a look. Luke grinned. Ella rolled her eyes.

‘Come on,’ said Ella, sounding amused. ‘Let’s take our bags up.’

‘Can I help?’ Cally offered.

‘No, don’t worry about it. I know the way.’ Ella was already in the doorway. ‘Second room on the right at the top of the stairs, right?’

‘Right.’

‘Thanks.’ She smiled over her shoulder.

Cally watched Ella’s tall, leggy figure sashay away, Luke following at her heels in a manner both meek and predatory, like a leopard on a leash. Cally sighed again.

A few minutes later, she heard Ash’s ute pull up in the drive. She saw him get out and make a slow, appraising circuit of Luke’s car before he headed for the door. There was the thump of Ash taking off his boots in the porch, then he padded in, today’s work-socks sporting a large hole in the toe, and sprawled across a chair. Doug leapt into his lap.

‘Cup of tea?’ she suggested.

‘I was thinking more of a beer.’ Ash stretched, turfed Doug onto the floor again, and got up. ‘You want one?’ He opened the fridge door.

Cally hesitated, wondering if all this alcohol was going to be deducted from her wages. Besides which, she hardly ever drank beer. ‘Yes, please,’ she told him.

Ash twisted the tops off a couple of stubbies, handed her one, and returned to his chair.

Cally frowned at the sink. She’d better do something about dinner. She was petrified at the prospect of cooking for Lizzie. Not to mention Ella and Luke. Not daring to cook chops and mash yet again, she had defrosted a leg of lamb.

‘So they’re here, then,’ Ash observed. ‘Ella and …’

‘Luke,’ she supplied. ‘Yes, they’ve just taken their bags up.’

There was a pause.

‘That’s quite a car they’re driving,’ added Ash.

She nodded. There was another pause. Cally kept her thoughts to herself; he’d find out what Ella and Luke were like for himself soon enough.

‘I thought I might take Windy out tomorrow,’ he said, after a while.

She turned to face him. ‘Out? You mean
out
, out?’

‘Try him up the river a bit,’ Ash grinned. ‘See how he goes.’

Gosh. That was quite a milestone. But Windy had been awfully well behaved all week; he’d earned an outing.

‘Hello.’

They both looked up. Ella was standing in the doorway. Cally watched Ash’s face, noting the flare in his eyes as they came to rest on Ella. Putting his beer down, he got to his feet.

‘Hi. I’m Ash.’ He paused awkwardly. ‘Carr’s son.’

‘Yes,’ Ella smiled. ‘I’m Ella. Lizzie’s daughter.’

‘Luke Halliday.’ Rounding Ella, Luke shook Ash’s hand. ‘No relation to anyone.’

He’d changed out of his suit and was wearing a pair of faded jeans with a chunky grey polo neck so soft-looking it just begged to be touched. Cally wondered if he and Lizzie got their sweaters from the same place. She watched Luke’s gaze drift to the bottle on the table.

‘Can I get you a beer?’ Ash managed, tearing his eyes away from Ella. ‘Or’ — he looked back at her — ‘a wine?’

‘I’ll have a beer,’ Luke volunteered, much to Cally’s surprise. Ella looked a bit shocked as well.

‘A glass of wine would be lovely,’ Ella told Ash.

‘Did I hear you say,’ she asked him as he handed the glass to her, ‘you were riding Windy tomorrow?’

‘Yeah,’ Ash said, with a slight frown of surprise.

‘Would you mind if I tagged along with the camera?’

Ash’s frown deepened. His eyes flicked down to Ella’s boots. ‘You ride?’

‘I can ride Pooch,’ Ella said, sounding rather proud of herself.

‘Well, the thing is, Cally—’ Ash shot a pleading look across the kitchen.

‘It’s fine.’ Feeling sorry for him, Cally summoned a smile. ‘Take Ella.’ Of course he’d rather go with her. Who wouldn’t?

‘Oh!’ Ella looked horrified. ‘I didn’t mean … I don’t want to stop
you
going—’

‘Are you sure?’ Ash cut in abruptly, still looking at Cally.

‘Really,’ she told him, heart sinking into her trainers, ‘it’s fine. I’m flat out tomorrow. I couldn’t go anyway.’

Luke, Cally noticed, was giving Ella an icy glare.

‘Do you want to come?’ Ella asked him, belatedly, looking a bit guilty.

‘I can see if I can find you a horse,’ Ash offered, sounding far from delighted at the prospect. He began looking Luke over in a way Cally knew was designed to gauge his height and weight, but which must have been disconcerting.

‘No,’ Luke said flatly. ‘Thank you.’

Cally watched Ella catch her full lower lip in her perfect teeth. ‘Will you be all right on your own?’

‘I think I can manage.’ Luke’s glare got even colder. ‘I’ve got work to do too, actually.’

‘Luke!’

Cally stifled a sigh of envy as Lizzie swept in, looking very relaxed, to throw her arms around Luke’s grey sweater.

‘You made good time.’ Lizzie turned to hug Ella. ‘Hello, darling. You look very nice. Are those new boots?’ She glanced happily around the room. ‘And you’ve all met! How lovely.’

Lizzie had barely got out of the shower when she caught the familiar rumble of Luke’s Aston Martin in the drive. Hurrying through to the bedroom, she picked up her watch from the bedside table. Dammit. Where had the last hour gone? She wasn’t sure whether she had Ella’s new high-pressure career or Luke’s driving to thank for her daughter’s sudden ability to arrive exactly on time.

‘It’s okay,’ Carr soothed, catching her by the wrist and pulling her back down into the folds of the rumpled duvet. ‘Cally can let them in.’

Lizzie nuzzled his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his skin. ‘Come on,’ she ordered. ‘We have to get up.’

Carr dropped a kiss on her collarbone, then sighed and
stretched. ‘I suppose we do.’

Extricating herself, she hunted up her clothes from the floor and quickly reapplied her makeup.

‘Luke!’ she beamed, throwing open the kitchen door to reveal the impressive contours of her former business associate’s cashmere-clad torso. He got up to greet her, breaking into his usual dazzling smile, but Lizzie caught the fleeting remains of another, less happy expression in his eyes. Pretending not to notice, she hugged him quickly. ‘You made good time.’

God, she thought, letting go, he was tense. What was going on? And — her eyes fell to the table — since when did he drink beer?

Having greeted Ella, Lizzie glanced around at Cally and Ash. ‘And you’ve all met! How lovely.’

Oh dear, you could cut the atmosphere in the kitchen with a knife. Ash was frowning at the table in front of him as if it had done him some harm, Cally was watching Ash with much the same expression, Luke’s body language suggested he might be about to stride out and slam the door … the only person who didn’t look out of sorts was Ella.

Luke checked his watch. ‘Would you mind if I used the phone? I should make a couple of calls.’

‘Now?’ Ella looked at him.

Lizzie watched Luke stare her daughter down.

‘Use the one in the office if you like,’ Ash suggested, dragging his gaze away from the table at last.

‘Thanks.’

‘It’s down the hall.’ Ash started to get to his feet.

‘I’ll show you,’ said Ella quickly, sliding her arm through Luke’s. ‘Come on.’ Looking up at him, she leaned in, giving his bicep a gentle nudge. Luke’s shoulders relaxed a little.

As Ella and Luke walked out, Cally turned her back on
Ash and began to prod at the joint of meat on the bench. Watching her, Ash picked up his beer, put it down again, and stood up. For a moment, he hovered beside the table as if he might have something to say. Then he, too, headed for the doorway.

‘I’ll just go wash up.’

‘Right,’ said Lizzie brightly. ‘See you in a bit.’

Cally nodded without turning.

Carr sauntered in, fresh from the shower and wearing the shirt she’d bought him, its sleeves rolled to his elbows. ‘Did I miss them?’ he asked innocently.

Lizzie, suspecting his timing was no coincidence, shook her head. ‘Luke’s just gone to make some calls. They’ll be back before long,’ she warned him. She watched Carr cross the kitchen and retrieve the wine from the fridge, fighting the urge to slip back into his arms. Regathering her thoughts, she walked over to join Cally at the bench.

‘Oh, a forequarter roast. Is that for dinner?’ She smiled encouragingly. ‘What are you going to do with it?’

There was a pause.

‘What would
you
do with it?’ asked Cally, in a small voice.

Lizzie examined the tag on the freezer bag. ‘Yellow,’ she asked Carr, ‘is mutton, right?’

‘Yep,’ he confirmed, looking up from pouring the wine.

‘Well …’ Lizzie thought hard. She supposed if she really
had
to cook it … ‘I think I’d bake it really slowly with some root vegetables.’

‘Slowly?’ Cally’s face fell. ‘How slowly?’

‘Oh, four, five …’ Lizzie cast an eye over the meat again. ‘Maybe six hours.’ She nodded to soften the blow. ‘Until it’s tender.’

They both glanced at the clock on the wall. It was half-past-five.

‘You know,’ said Lizzie, ‘I brought a fillet of beef with me. I could do something with that tonight instead if you want to save the roast for another day.’ Oh dear, was she being too bossy? It was Cally’s kitchen now, after all. ‘Or you can do it, if you like,’ she suggested.

Cally looked torn.

‘No,’ Carr broke in quickly. ‘Never turn down a night off,’ he told Cally, more gently, handing her a glass of wine. ‘You never know when you’ll get the next one.’

 

On her way downstairs the next morning, the mug of coffee Carr had brought her some hours earlier empty in her hand, Lizzie passed the open door of the guest bedroom to see Luke, fully dressed, in a chair by the unlit fire, hard at work on his laptop.

‘Morning.’ Lizzie paused in the doorway. ‘I’m just about to make some more coffee if you’d like one.’

Luke looked up gratefully. ‘I’d love one, thanks.’

‘Have you two had breakfast?’ She eyed the bathroom across the hall, wondering how long Ella would be.

‘Ella’s gone riding with Ash,’ Luke told her. ‘They headed out half an hour ago.’

And left him sitting by himself in a strange house? Lizzie’s surprise must have shown on her face.

‘Apparently Ash is breaking in the world’s prettiest horse,’ Luke explained. ‘She wanted to get some pictures.’

Lizzie sighed to herself. Poor Luke — after dragging him all this way. Ella had such a blind spot when it came to her work.

Apparently reading her thoughts, Luke shrugged. ‘I needed to go over this prospectus anyway.’

‘Anything I should take a look at?’ she asked, seizing on
the chance to change the subject.

Shaking his head, Luke grinned. ‘You know the rules.’

Lizzie rolled her eyes. Luke had dumped her as an investment client the moment he’d started going out with Ella. He didn’t do business with people he was ‘involved’ with, apparently. It was admirable, she supposed — but she couldn’t help thinking it was all a bit over the top.

‘Oh, come on,’ she said. ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’

His eyes slid to the window, where, in the far distance, Black Peak was glinting in the sun.

Ah. ‘What
did
go wrong over there?’ Oiled by a year’s worth of curiosity, the question slipped out before Lizzie had chance to stop it.

Luke frowned. ‘Carr didn’t tell you?’

She shook her head. In spite of Carr’s dire warnings about Luke’s character when they had first met, he had then clammed up and refused to elaborate on whatever it was Luke was actually supposed to have done to Charlotte Black. ‘He told me he only knew rumours,’ she said. ‘He said it was Charlie’s business and I should ask her.’

Luke was silent for a second or two. ‘Did you?’

‘I don’t know Charlie as well as I know you.’

There was another long pause. Luke sat back, rubbed his forehead, and sighed. ‘You know how much capital is tied up in a place like this.’

Millions. Lizzie nodded.

‘And how hard they work to keep it going.’

She nodded again.

‘And what they get back? I’ve had current accounts that gave a better return.’

Uh-oh. Lizzie had an idea where this might be heading. ‘What did you do?’ she asked cautiously.

‘I tried to help.’ Luke sighed again. ‘I thought I could add some value.’

She waited.

‘I was doing a lot of work with the Tsang Corporation at the time,’ he went on.

The Tsang Corporation? Lizzie tried to think why she knew the name. Oh, yes — ‘They’re that lot who put in the golf resort at Rochdale Station a few years back, aren’t they?’ She caught her breath. Oh, no …

She stared at Luke. ‘Tell me you didn’t.’

He met her gaze.

‘It would have made us a lot of money.’

Lizzie almost laughed. How could anyone who had ever met Charlotte Black think she would want to turn Blackpeak Station into a resort? ‘I take it Charlie wasn’t impressed?’ She shook her head. ‘Did you really think she would be?’

‘I thought …’ Luke rubbed his hands over his face again. ‘I thought if I could just make her see how it could be. If I could show her the whole package—’ He broke off, frowning down at the carpet.

Lizzie, watching his face, had the sense that he was reliving a nasty scene.

‘There was no point even talking to her until I was sure I could do the deal,’ he went on, more than half to himself. ‘I was almost there.’ Glancing up at Lizzie, he rolled his eyes. ‘Ready to present. You know.’

‘But,’ she suggested, gently.

‘But Charlotte got wind of the project from someone else, and — well, she got totally the wrong end of the stick and thought that I was trying to steal the station off her, and that that was why’ — Luke grimaced — ‘that was why I wanted to marry her. To get my hands on half her share.’

Lizzie frowned. ‘She’d have to have had a pretty bad
lawyer for you to get that.’

He nodded. ‘I wouldn’t have had a snowflake’s chance in hell. But you know what Charlotte’s like when she gets an idea in her head. She wouldn’t listen. She wouldn’t talk. That was it, we were over.’

Lizzie didn’t know what to say. ‘Well,’ she tried, hoping to lighten the tone, ‘I suppose that is the worst that could happen.’

Luke smiled. ‘You did ask.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘For asking?’ A little mischief found its way back into his eyes. ‘I don’t blame you.’

‘For you. It must have been tough.’

He shrugged. ‘I probably wouldn’t come out of it quite so well if Charlotte was telling the story.’

Lizzie nodded. There were always two sides. She could see how bad the whole business with Tsang must have looked from Charlotte’s.

‘There may have been other … factors … as well,’ Luke confessed into the silence that followed. ‘We were apart a lot.’

Factors with names, Lizzie thought, knowing Luke. He wasn’t the sort of guy a girl ought to leave to his own devices. On the subject of which …

‘I’m not sure I should hear any more,’ she smiled. ‘Let’s go down to the kitchen. I’ll make you that coffee.’

‘Is Carr up yet?’

‘He’s over at the yards.’

Amused at how relieved Luke looked, she herded him downstairs.

They found Cally unloading the dishwasher. Noting her colour rise as Luke walked into the room, Lizzie reflected how very hard it must be to be good when the opportunities to be bad were never-ending.

‘Here.’ Reaching over Cally’s shoulder, Luke took a wineglass and set it on the dresser shelf she was struggling to reach. ‘Let me help you with that.’

‘I’m surprised you’re not out with Windy,’ Lizzie said. ‘I heard the two of you were best mates.’

Cally looked awkward.

‘Did Ella,’ it occurred to Lizzie, ‘take Pooch?’

Cally shrugged. ‘It’s okay.’

Lizzie sighed to herself. Jolly good. So Ella had managed to upset everybody’s day. Including, she suspected from the way she had seen him watching Cally over dinner last night, Ash’s.

Depositing her empty mug in the sink, she glanced around for the coffee pot.

‘Would you like another cup?’ Cally produced the spotlessly clean pot from a cupboard. Lizzie wasn’t sure she’d ever seen it leave the stove before.

‘You sit down,’ Cally said, ‘I’ll make it.’ She paused. ‘Luke?’

‘Thanks.’ He shot her a smile. ‘I’d love one.’

Lizzie, doing as she was told, settled into the armchair beside the range. Luke pulled a chair out from the table.

‘Doug, get down,’ Cally scolded, as Carr’s new cat slunk onto Luke’s lap from the neighbouring chair.

‘It’s okay.’ Luke smiled again. Lizzie watched Cally blush and turn away as he began to rub the cat’s ears. The cat closed its eyes and purred. Cally busied herself pouring coffee.

Luke had barely begun drinking his cup before his gaze slid to the window.

‘Well,’ he said lightly, shifting the cat to another chair and getting to his feet, ‘I’d better go and get on with my reading.’

Lizzie let him escape. Standing up herself, she looked out of the window on her way to the sink. Carr was back. Over the roof of Luke’s gleaming Aston, she could see him in the garage. He had the inside panel off the door of the Hilux
and was squatting on his heels in front of it doing something with fencing wire.

‘Here.’ Cally took the cup from her hand. ‘I’ll take that.’

Lizzie watched her spirit it into the dishwasher and turn, with what sounded like a sigh, to look at the fridge.

‘I was wondering,’ Lizzie began, as tactfully as she could, ‘if you’d let me cook dinner tonight. Would you mind terribly?’

‘But,’ Cally frowned, ‘you cooked last night.’

‘I had some duck in my freezer that had to be eaten,’ Lizzie swept on, ‘and I know Ella loves it, so I thought I’d bring it along. Now it’s defrosted, you see …’ She shrugged. ‘It’d be a shame to throw it away.’

‘Duck,’ repeated Cally dubiously.

‘You don’t like it?’

‘I’ve never tried it.’

‘Oh!’ Lizzie beamed. ‘Then we really
have
to have it.’

To her relief, Cally surrendered. ‘You’ll let me help, though?’

‘Of course, if you’d like to.’ She glanced out the window again. Carr was still busy with the Hilux. ‘Actually, I might make a start now.’

BOOK: Storms Over Blackpeak
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