‘Sorry. I’m Nicole.’ She extended her hand but it was left midair until she withdrew it. ‘I’m living in the cottage up the hill. I guess that makes us neighbours?’

‘I know who you are.’ The man grunted and placed his fishing gear on the ground. He folded his arms across his chest.

‘Oh. Okay then,’ Nicole said. ‘I guess I’ll be off.’

No answer.

She headed back up the path. Who was he and why was he living there?

Stop it.

How long had he been there?

It’s none of your business.

She had no intention of taking any interest in anything or anyone ever again. Certainly not for the short time she was going to be here. She walked away.

Is he alone in there?

Charlie watched the young woman until she was out of sight. He picked up his tackle box and dinner catch and touched the carved initials in the bench gently with two fingers. From the cove he’d seen her sitting there and he didn’t like how it made him feel. No one had sat there for four decades. No one had the right to.

He looked up to the sky and pictured the green eyes he still missed so terribly. There was no point thinking of the past. There was new life in the cottage now. He pushed the long-buried memories from his mind and went inside.

Why hadn’t she been afraid of him? Most other people were. Who did she think she was, destroying his peace like that? The locals had learned long ago to leave him to himself, but he knew instinctively she was different. Those blue eyes. There was something behind the sadness. He’d known it was a risk, his plan, but he had no other choice.

For the last few days Nicole had been debating where on earth to start the renovation. The kitchen needed the most amount of work, but probably wasn’t the best place for a novice like her to start. She had to get her feet wet with something a little more manage able. Even fixing the walls seemed a rather daunting job.

She’d reordered her lists, prioritising each task from smallest to biggest.

Nicole stood in front of the fireplace. The plasterboard covering the opening was rotting. Well. No point putting it off. Today was the day she’d scheduled its demolition, and she always followed her schedule. She picked up the large mallet she’d bought and pulled a dust mask over her nose and mouth.

She wouldn’t be able to restore the beautiful old fireplace on her own. That required specialist skills. And probably more money than she had. But she could at least strip it back and clean it up.