The Power of One Read Online Free PDF Page A

security and had, in the end, allowed her to buy Peverill Lodge.
    The Peters sisters, then the Montmorencys and finally Tim Brandon had made their home with her and while it could be argued, by less generous minds, that her ‘lodgers’ paid so little rent it probably only just covered the food bill, Rina had no complaint.
    This was her family. Oddball and truculent it could sometimes be but, so long as she had the means, they’d be safe here at Peverill Lodge.

SIX
    I t was almost eight by the time Mac reached home. Miriam was cooking. She hadn’t quite moved in, but she did spend several nights at the little boathouse each week. Mac acknowledged that neither of them was quite ready to give up their own space, but it was truly wonderful to have someone to share his for a good deal of the time.
    The boathouse had been Rina’s find, at a time when Mac had almost given up on finding somewhere to live and was seriously considering the possibility of camping out at the police station. The friend of Rina’s that he rented from still stored his boat downstairs, but the upper floor had been converted into a surprisingly comfortable space, open-plan but with a separate bedroom with an en suite shower room. It was a surprisingly light and airy space, broad windows had been let into one wall and velux skylights in the bedroom. Scrubbed wooden boards and whitewashed walls reflected light and did not detract from the sense of what the loft space had once been. There was an odd, surprisingly large, porthole-style window at one gable end and, if you sat on the fireside chair Mac had placed there, it gave a magnificent view of the changing seascape across the bay.
    Mac had loved the place on sight and the fact that Miriam happened to be there on the day he came to view had seemed like an excellent omen.
    She had heard him coming up the stairs and turned with a smile as he emerged through what had once been the trapdoor leading from the boathouse proper. ‘I hear you’ve had an exciting day.’
    He went over, kissed her, then slipped his arms around her waist, standing behind her as she stirred, enjoying the movement of her body against his.
    â€˜Some kinds of excitement I can do without. Let me guess, Stephen Montmorency’s recipe for tomato sauce?’
    She laughed. ‘Yes, but à la Miriam Hastings. I’ve added a twist or so of my own.’ She paused to unlock his hands. ‘Lay the table,’ she said. ‘It’s almost ready. Andy called to say you were on your way, so I put the pasta on.’
    Mac laughed. Friends and work colleagues seemed to be conspiring. ‘They’ve managed to squeeze the post-mortems in for first thing tomorrow.’
    â€˜Yeah, I heard. Any ID on the second man yet?’
    Mac shook his head. ‘No. Exeter are sending reinforcements over in the morning. I’m teaming up with our friend, Dave Kendal,’
    â€˜Who’ll be SIO?’ Miriam asked.
    â€˜Oh, we’ll fight over which of us will be in charge when he gets here.’ Mac laughed. ‘I’m guessing that the title of Senior Investigating Officer will be mine by default; Kendal isn’t a Frantham fan. Of course, it depends how serious it all gets, We might both have to move aside if the powers that be decide this is too much for us country coppers.’
    â€˜Well, there has been quite a crime wave since you arrived.’
    Mac set bowls and glasses on the table and opened some wine. ‘It has been mentioned,’ he said wryly. He paused. ‘Can’t you just put the sauce on the pasta and just shove it in the oven on a low heat?’
    â€˜Hmm.’ She turned, smiling. ‘Pasta al forno. I suppose we could always eat later.’ She put down the spoon, grabbed the front of his shirt, and sniffed critically.
    â€˜Shower,’ she ordered. ‘I’ll do the thing with the oven and then … well then we’ll see.’

SEVEN
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