“Dammit.” Dodging the cracks in the sidewalk in front of Wunderbar, I went over Cat’s words in my head. “How did you manage to get yourself in this situation, man?”

On the one hand, I was now in close proximity to an extremely pretty girl for the next week, and that’s no bad thing. On the other, she not only thought I was a jerk, she also thought I was here on a mission to destroy her livelihood. Which I—kind of, inadvertently—was.

“So, this is a solid five out of ten situation.” I said to myself. “Chance of future kisses: currently minimal, with prospects worsening unless there’s a sudden shift in conditions.”

A more grown-up and responsible part of me said fine, Dr. Smooth, but this work is more important than getting to kiss a pretty girl in some sleepy little town.

And, as much as I didn’t like it, the rest of me had to agree with that: I had a job to do, and I was responsible for doing what was best for everyone for the future. To preserve memories.

Once lost, memories are gone forever.

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I remembered that I’d told Antoinette I would check out her grandfather’s old house for her. I’d never been there, but my cousin had spent every one of her holidays there, before she grew up and decided she was going to sail around the world.

Now her grandfather was in a nursing home, and the old place was probably derelict; it had been emptied out nearly five years ago. I’ll go and look at it, and take some photos for her. It was still a family possession, and maybe the land would be worth something, although around here it wouldn’t be much. She still hadn’t sent me the address, though; I reached for my phone.

Ryan: Hey, you up? What’s that address for your Grandad’s place?

Ant: Oh, sorry. It’s on Cable Bay Road, but it’s right down by the beach. I’ll send you a map link.

There was a brief pause, and I crossed the road, passing neat rows of houses, spacious gardens with overhanging trees, and cheerful, relaxed inhabitants. People smiled to me and waved hello as I walked along the street, even though they had no idea who I was. That’d never happen in the city. My phone beeped again, this time with a link from Ant.

Ryan: Thanks, I’ll check it out today. It’s nice here.

Ant: It’s gorgeous. Bit quiet, though.

Ryan: You say that now. Didn’t you come back from your holiday one year saying you had a boyfriend, and you were in love and going to marry him?

Ant: I was twelve. I was getting that love crap out of the way early. Don’t tell me you’ve never had a sudden infatuation.

Ryan: Yeah. About that.

Ant: Uh-oh. You’ve been there ONE DAY. What have you done, cuz?

Ryan: There was this girl in a bar.

Ant: And?

Ryan: Well, she kissed me. But now she thinks I’m a jerk.

Ant: Yeah, you’re not so much a lady-killer as a lady-injurer.

Ryan: Owww.

Ant: A lady-maimer, maybe? I’m a sailor, not a poet.

Ryan: Why is there not a ‘disgust’ emoji?

A group of children ran past me, kicking a soccer ball down the street, none older than about ten. There was no adult supervising them, or following them; they passed me unconcerned about my presence, engrossed in their own world.

I guess it’s not actually a bad place. But it’s way too quiet here for me. Except for one feature.

I thought about Cat at the bar, and smiled at the memory of her on her hands and knees, her round bottom in the air, scrubbing hard at the floor. She concentrated on everything she did, throwing herself into a task as if each one were the most important thing in the world for her. Even in those threadbare pajamas, she looked cute and sexy at the same time, and I wondered what it would be like to wake up next to her and peel them off her, while she moaned in sleepy arousal.

Fat chance of that. When I was leaving the market she looked like she’d sooner strangle me with that scarf than come to bed with me.

Lost in my thoughts of Cat’s behind, I stepped off the curb, and didn’t notice the truck approaching. It swerved and honked at me, and I jumped. “Shit!”

The vehicle slowed to a stop, and reversed backwards. “Hey, buddy, you okay?”

I kept walking. “Yeah, I’m okay, I just…sorry.”

The driver, a burly young guy with a cleft chin, peered out of the window. “No problem, man. You just looked a bit preoccupied and I was worried that I’d frightened you. My name’s Andy.”

“I, uh, yeah. I’m Ryan.” I stopped, and Andy extended a hand out the window.

Man, small towns. If this had happened in the city, I would have got the finger and a torrent of abuse. Here, the dude stops to see if I’m okay, and freakin’ introduces himself. “Good to meet you, Andy.”

“You’re the archaeologist guy, right? You’re here to check out the fossils little May found at Wunderbar?”

This was another thing about small towns; everyone talking to each other, and knowing your business. “Yeah, that’s me. I’m afraid I’m not staying long, though.”

“Must be a pretty interesting job.” Andy scratched his head. “Mind you, the travel must get to you. Are you staying in town?”

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to explain everything about my business to a virtual stranger, but Andy’s openness and genuine concern for someone he’d never met was disarming. “Yeah, I’m staying at the bar itself. Convenient, I guess.”

“You’re staying with Cat?” Andy looked taken aback for a minute, and I wondered if I might have said something unwise.

“Well, she’s renting me one of her upstairs rooms, yeah.”

Andy brightened. “Ah, right. She’s a great girl, and really hospitable. The bar has had a new lease of life since she took it over. I hope she gets to carry it on.”

Well, that isn’t going to happen if I’m responsible for it being demolished. Sounds like no-one in this town is going to like me much if that happens, least of all Cat Milsom.

“Yeah, it seems like a really social place. Hey, man, it was good to meet you, but I have to go; I said I’d go look at a house for my cousin.”

“Sure, man.” Andy waved at me cheerily. “See you round.”

As he pulled away, I turned back toward the coast and looked out to sea. From a distance, I could see that the wind was rising, whipping the breakers into foam. It is beautiful here, I’ll admit.

* * *

The house was on the edge of town, a short walk from where the neat rows of houses ran out, and the grass turned into sandy tussock. As I approached, I could see the gable and the steep roof, looming over the landscape. On a sunny day, it would have looked quaint and charming. Today, with the wind coming in off the sea and the clouds brewing in the gray sky, the boarded-up windows and loose shingles made it look lost, forgotten, eerie.

At nearly three stories, it didn’t look like any of the other houses in town, and I wondered who had built it nearly a hundred years ago, pulling milled timber here by horse and cart, laboriously assembling the brickwork of the central chimney which poked out next to the gable, turning the big posts leading the rickety steps up to the front door.

I walked around the house carefully, stopping to take photos now and again. Antoinette had been a little girl when she’d last come here, and I’d never seen a photograph of the place from her, although she had told me about playing in the sand dunes, and hide-and-seek in the rooms of the old house. That was twenty years ago, though, and not long after that her Grandad had been taken into care, and the place more-or-less abandoned.

“Hey there.” I looked up, and saw a guy coming toward me, about my height, but slim of build and fair-haired. “I don’t see many people up this end of town.” Stopping in front of me, he eyed me steadily, and I realized he thought I might be casing the place. Uh-oh.

I put out my hand. “Ryan Sanders. My family own this house, and I was checking it out while I was in town.”

He relaxed, visibly, and took my hand. “Nick Vette. Yeah, spelled like the car, before you ask.” He wasn’t a burly guy, but his grip was surprisingly strong. “Sorry if I seemed like I was checking you out, it’s just that not many people come down this end of town, and I remember this old house from when I was a kid, and…”

“No, man, it’s completely okay. I totally understand. So, you come from here?”

He nodded. “I do, although I moved away from Cable Bay when I was a teenager. Back here working now; I’m a teacher.” Releasing my hand, he stepped back and put both hands in his jacket, shielding them from the wind. “How about you? Thinking of moving here?”

“No, just here for a week or so for work. I’m,” I paused, and decided not to explain again, “working with Cat Milsom at the bar.”

“Oh, really? Maybe I’ll see you there.”

“Sounds good. I’ll buy you a beer; my family probably owes you one for keeping an eye on this old place.”

Nick smiled. “Sure thing. Catch you later, man.” With a wave, he turned and started walking across the tussock toward town, as I looked back at the old house.

It looked in surprisingly good condition for all that time had passed; the boards on the windows were still in place, and as I lifted one of them, the glass behind was unbroken and the joinery still sound. Cobwebs and leaf mold covered the front steps, but nothing appeared to have fallen in, and the few tiles that were loose on the roof didn’t show any dark holes beneath. I didn’t have a key for the big front door, with dark glass panes obscuring the interior; I could have forced my way in, but the door seemed to have stood strongly for those twenty-odd years against the wind and the rain, and I decided against it.

Ant will be happy the place is still standing, I guess.

She wasn’t likely to come back any time soon, and she was even less the settling-down type than I was myself. Now that I knew the house wasn’t derelict, though, maybe it would bring a decent price if it were fixed up and sold. Descending the steps from the front door, I put my phone back in my pocket, and headed for Kensington Street, and Daisy’s place, to get my overnight bag.

“Just a week, Sanders.” I said under my breath. “Just a week, to get this done, and then you’re out of here.”

As I walked, my thoughts kept turning to Cat’s full, kissable lips. Given the fire in her eyes last time she looked at me, though, I seriously doubted I was going to get to experience them again during my time in Cable Bay.