Someone Else's Conflict Read Online Free PDF Page B

strangely distant herself, as if she’d wake up soon.
    â€˜I don’t think there’s any danger of a second slip,’ he said. ‘The soil looks pretty thin up there and it looks as if all that was going to move has done.’
    Marilyn wondered how much either of them really knew, but saw no real reason not to agree. She saw no real reason to refuse his offer, either, though the idea of a stranger working uninvited in her yard unnerved her. As they scrambled back down, she hoped he’d clear the barn doors quickly and leave. Turning towards the house to fetch a hot drink and a slice of the fruit cake she’d made yesterday, she apologised to him for the lack of bacon or sausages – she wasn’t one for cooked breakfasts herself and didn’t have a lot in. He waved away her concerns, saying with an easy smile that he’d be grateful for whatever she had. It made her feel guilty for doubting him, but didn’t stop her wishing he’d gone straight to make a start on the digging instead of following her to the house. He waited in the porch as she removed her boots then bent to do the same. Marilyn hovered in the inner doorway watching him.
    â€˜Sorry,’ he said as he straightened up, ‘you ought to know who it is you’re inviting in.’ She’d been intending to take the mug and cake out to him. ‘Jay Spinney.’
    She took his proffered hand and shook it.
    â€˜Good to meet you.’ The introduction did nothing to lessen her reluctance to let him in. ‘So is that J as in short for something, or your full name?’ she added, to fill the space in the porch.
    â€˜You intending to write me a note of thanks?’ He grinned. ‘Hmm, Jason, you mean? Jonathan, Justin? Actually, it’s simply Jay. The woodland watchdog, they call us; garrulus glandarius , magpie’s cousin…’
    She couldn’t help returning his smile. ‘I’m Marilyn.’ She finally stepped aside. ‘Come in, then. Tea or coffee?’
    â€˜Coffee, please. As strong as you can make it.’
    â€˜A man after my own heart,’ she said, and immediately regretted the familiarity.
    She filled the kettle and put it to boil as he removed his coat in the warmth of the Rayburn.
    â€˜Water supply OK, then?’ he asked.
    Marilyn nodded. ‘The spring’s not in the path of the landslip, thank goodness.’
    â€˜At least you don’t have to fetch your water in buckets. But do tell me if there’s anything else I can do for you while I’m here.’
    â€˜I can manage, thanks.’
    â€˜Oh. Right. Of course. I’ll just finish freeing your barn door and be on my way. I suppose your husband’ll be back later.’
    â€˜I said I’ll be fine.’
    She felt more exposed than the bare soil of the hillside.
    â€˜Well, things could be worse,’ he mused as she brought to the table two mugs, the coffee pot and the fruit cake.
    â€˜Forgive me, but why do people always say that?’ she said as she sat down, poured the coffee and handed him a mug. ‘Whatever life throws at you, there’ll always be someone telling you things could be worse.’
    â€˜Ouch. Yeah, I’ve always wondered myself why it’s supposed to make you feel better – sorry.’
    He picked up his mug and took a sip, studying it appreciatively before setting it on the table. She felt a flash of pride; it was one of hers.
    â€˜Sorry myself if I sounded ratty.’
    â€˜Understandable.’
    He smiled and she began to relax.
    â€˜What brings you round here?’
    â€˜Just a whim. Well, I lived for a while in Keighley when I was younger; used to like coming out to the Dales. So I’m spending some time revisiting these parts.’
    She nodded, offered him the plate of cake. He took a piece and they ate in silence. There was a long moment where she felt she should say something, but couldn’t think of a word. She