Free Turning the Tide by Christine Stovell Page A

me a minute?’ he told her, in that low, sure voice. ‘There’s a lot at stake for both of us here. Why don’t you wait until the restaurant’s up and running before you make a judgement?’
    Harry wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, then realised that she’d probably smeared herself in blue paint dust. Didn’t the ancient Britons use blue dye to scare off the Romans? Harry sighed. It hadn’t worked for them and it didn’t look as if it was going to work for her either; Matthew was still determined to persuade her that she was going to like what he was doing.
    ‘And in the meantime I’m supposed to ignore all the disruption during the refurbishment, am I? All the banging and crashing, the white vans coming and going and the builders’ radios blasting out across Campion’s Creek where there used to be perfect peace?’ she said, conveniently ignoring all the banging and crashing she created at the boat yard. ‘I like living here because it’s so quiet and I’m not surrounded by people. I was never going to be thrilled to bits at the prospect of having a busy eating place right on my doorstep with Hoorays braying and slamming car doors into the small hours. It’ll disturb the wildlife and it won’t do much for me; with the kind of hours I work, it’s important for me to get some rest when I can.’
    ‘Yes, you’re always on the go,’ Matthew said, stepping closer. ‘In fact, you never keep still; caulking decks, trimming sails, stripping paint. No wonder there’s so little of you.’
    ‘That’s the nature of my work, and there’s plenty of it. So if you’ve seen enough for one day, perhaps you’d let me get on with it?’ She untangled her goggles from the face mask hanging round her neck and hoped he would take this a sign to leave; they were always going to disagree about the restaurant, so there was no point in prolonging the conversation.
    Matthew didn’t take the hint. ‘I’ve checked up on your rates, and if you keep offering those prices you’ll always be busy – but where’s it going to get you? I like the way you pitched your service to that couple, but you’ve got to be realistic. You’re running yourself into the ground trying to make a living and George isn’t getting any younger.’
    George? Why did he keep going on about George? Oh, so George had been blabbing, had he? Well, she’d deal with him later. In the meantime she had Mr Caring-and-Concerned to contend with. Matthew, still standing too close, was doing such a good job of maintaining his air of sincerity that Harry went along with it for a moment. She even imagined what it would be like to lean against his solid chest and let him hold her in his arms whilst he promised to take care of her. She was almost beginning to like the thought when Matthew ruined it by speaking.
    ‘You told me once that you kept the boat yard going in memory of your father,’ he said softly. ‘Would he be happy to see you like this, Harry? Do you think he’d want to see you working yourself to a shadow, your brow always furrowed with worry?’
    ‘You’ve got a nerve,’ she said, pulling up her goggles. ‘You come sniffing round, poking your nose in where you’re not wanted and then have the audacity to tell me what my father would have wanted. Well, since you’re such an expert on my father you’ll know what he always said: “Keep fighting, Harry, especially when you’re in a corner. Come out fighting or go down.” And I can tell you, I’ve no intention of going down.’
    Matthew looked at her sadly. ‘That was a hell of a legacy to leave a little girl. No wonder you’re still taking on the whole world.’
    Harry was glad she’d donned her goggles; her anger could so easily spill over into tears. ‘Free psychoanalysis, too,’ she nodded. ‘However did we manage without you?’
    Matthew raised his hands. ‘All right, I’m done. One day even you’ll be tired of feeling your back against the wall, but it won’t