Free That Gallagher Girl by Kate Thompson Page B

quiet.’
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜Ever heard of press intrusion? My dad likes to keep his private life exactly that – private. And anyway, what are you doing sticking your nose in? It’s none of your damn business.’
    Cat shrugged. ‘Well, it kinda is my business, since I’ve laid claim to the joint.’
    â€˜Don’t be so stupid,’ scoffed Finn. ‘You can’t lay claim to a house just because you’ve been living in it.’
    â€˜All property is theft, squatters have rights, and possession is nine-tenths of the law.’
    â€˜That’s crap. Now go away. I’ve just flown in from LA and I’m jetlagged and not in the mood for Marxist trivia.’
    Cat gave him an aggrieved look. ‘You should be grateful to me for taking care of the joint. It badly needed TLC.’
    â€˜And what kind of TLC have you been giving it?’
    â€˜Um . . . I’ve sprayed it with Febreze. Smell!’
    Finn sniffed the air tentatively, and Cat laughed. ‘It’s roses. Wild roses.’
    â€˜Febreze wild roses?’
    â€˜No. Real roses. I brought masses of them in – they’re growing like crazy in the garden. You really think I’m the kind of gal who’d go around polluting the atmosphere with air freshener?’
    â€˜I don’t know what you’re capable of. I hardly know you.’
    She slanted him a smile. ‘But I intrigue you, don’t I?’
    â€˜It would be hard not to be intrigued by a girl who arrives out of the blue in the middle of the night wearing nothing but a sarong and a sleeping bag.’ Finn started lobbing his phone from hand to hand again. ‘You could be like something out of Wallander . For all I know you’re planning to slit my throat. That Swiss Army knife I saw in the kitchen is yours, isn’t it? Not some nefarious accomplice’s?’
    â€˜Yes, it’s mine.’ Cat looked towards the door. ‘Can I have something to eat? I saw your boxes in the hall, all piled with grub.’
    There was a beat, then Finn gave a nod of assent. ‘Sure,’ he said.
    â€˜Thanks. I’m starving. The kitchen’s this way.’
    â€˜I know where the kitchen is. I’ve been here before. How long have you been living here?’
    â€˜A week,’ she threw back at him. ‘You’re very welcome to my abode. It beats the hell out of the last joint I broke into. That was a tip. This is like the Ritz Carlton in comparison.’
    Following her through into the hall, Finn paused to pick up one of the boxes, then moved into the kitchen where more candles were burning. ‘How have you managed without electricity?’
    â€˜I have a Primus.’
    â€˜What about water?’
    â€˜I’m a hardy creature. As long as I’m connected to a supply, it doesn’t matter if it’s hot or cold.’
    â€˜You wouldn’t be so complacent if it was winter,’ he remarked, setting the box on a countertop.
    Cat shrugged. ‘I managed to get through last winter on a houseboat.’
    â€˜No shit.’ Finn gave her an admiring look.
    â€˜It was no big deal,’ she told him, carelessly.
    â€˜So you really are a vagabond?’
    â€˜Yeah.’
    â€˜Cool!’
    Cat’s nonchalance was entirely affected. Privately, she rather liked the idea of Finn thinking she was a vagabond. There was something boho and romantic about it. He didn’t need to know that the houseboat had all mod cons, and that the only reason she was living rough now was because her next house-sitting gig had fallen through. He didn’t need to know that she was, in effect, a Trustafarian, living on an allowance from her daddy. Well, waiting for an allowance from her daddy. Until that came through, she guessed she really was a vagabond.
    Humming a little tune, she set about ransacking the box of groceries. ‘Let’s see what you’ve got here. Bread, cheese, salami,