Carnations in January by Clare Revell Read Free Book Online Page B

saw, but she couldn’t. “That’s my house,” she managed.
    The huge oak tree lay across the road, the top of it buried in the roof and the front of her house.
    “Elliott, that’s my house.” She darted around the police officer and headed towards the crime scene tape.
    “Grace, wait!” Elliott ran after her and grabbed her arms, pulling her back. “You can’t go in there.”
    “It’s my house…” She struggled against his firm hold, needing to work free and get in there.
    “Once it’s safe you can go in.” The police officer spoke in a soothing tone.
    Elliot looked at the officer. “Is mine all right?”
    “Fire department says it’s just forty-three that’s affected.”
    Elliott jerked his head in response. “In that case, we’ll wait in there out of the storm. Come on, Grace.” He gripped her arm firmly, almost dragging her over to his place.
    Grace surveyed the ruins of her house, tears blurring her vision. Her feet stumbled on the debris covering the path as Elliott pulled her inside.
    Haven’t I lost enough without losing this too?
    ~*~
    Grace perched on the edge of Elliott’s black leather sofa. Her stomach roiled and any hint of an appetite had long since vanished. Her skin crawled, and she didn’t think she would ever be warm again.
    Elliott had rung Joel and sent him and Bradley to lunch on their own.
    She pushed her hands through her hair. “I don’t believe this.”
    Elliott held out a cup of tea. Steam rose from the dark liquid. “Here, drink this.”
    “I don’t want it. I feel sick.”
    “You need to drink it.” He pressed the cup into her cold hands. “I won’t take no for an answer.”
    She gripped the cup tightly. “What do I do?”
    “Honestly, it depends on how bad the damage is. It could just be the roof and front wall. But you’ll need the whole place surveyed to get a full damage report. It could be worse than it seems.”
    “Why?”
    “I’ve worried for a while about the sloping concrete floors, crumbling brickwork, the moisture, and the rotten window frames.”
    “It’s an old house.”
    “It’s the same age as this one.”
    Grace sighed. “Yeah, well, you’re a builder. You have to keep this place in good nick. It wouldn’t do your work credibility any good if you didn’t. Aunt Tilja lived alone.” She put down the cup. “I shouldn’t even be here. I should go home.”
    “You can’t. Not yet.”
    “Not the house. Home.” She drew in a deep breath. “Only I can’t do that either. I don’t have a home any longer. My flat back in Ely is gone as I rented it. Perhaps mum and dad…” She dissolved into tears, unable to remain strong any longer, but she had nowhere to go. Her new home was now in pieces. She doubted they’d let her back in today.
    The couch buckled as Elliott sat beside her and she shivered at his nearness.
    The front door opened and Bradley ran in. “Uncle Elliott, there’s a fireman wanting to talk to you and the lady from the broken house. Did you see it? There’s a huge tree crashed through the roof.”
    Elliott pushed a hand through his hair. “Yes, I saw it.” He helped Grace to her feet. “Come on, let’s see what the fire department wants.”
    A tall firefighter in full kit stood in the doorway. “We’re off now,” he said.
    “Can I go back home?” Grace asked.
    “Not until the building inspector’s been in and that won’t be ’til tomorrow. The outer front wall and roof are badly damaged and could fall at any time.”
    “Well, can I at least go and get my things?”
    The firefighter shook his head. “Not tonight. If the wind picks up again, that wall may give way.”
    Grace looked down, not paying any attention to the men talking. Only when she found Elliott looking at her expectantly, did she twig that he’d said something. “Sorry.”
    “I said you can stay here tonight.”
    She shook her head. “You have a houseful. I’ll find a hotel or…well, I guess I can’t. My credit cards and money are