The Circle Now Is Made (King's Way Book 1) by Mac Fletcher Read Free Book Online

furnished, but although the only form of heating was a bottled-gas heater in the lounge, the building felt comfortable. Greg commented that, despite the elevation and outside temperature, none of the rooms felt cold. This, he concluded, was due to the cabin’s solid wooden construction.
    “Jan it’s great! ” exclaimed Greg. “A real log cabin - dog rough but great !”
    Apart from a few rugs, the floor was covered in cracked lino, and rendered interior walls hadn't been painted for years. Jan had made a few basic attempts at decoration, but the cabin otherwise bore an air of jaded, unlived in neglect.
    “And you say she's considered selling?” asked Greg, momentarily forgetting his circumstances: a few months earlier he could have bought the cabin almost on a whim. Back then though, he reflected, he wouldn’t have found enough enthusiasm to consider its potential, so locked had he been in an entirely different world. Jan, observing his vacant stare, brought him quickly back to earth.
    “Wishful thinking. Come on, I’ll show you the rest.”
    The layout was simple. The hallway led to each of the rooms in turn, the rearmost section being subdivided into two bedrooms and a bathroom, serviced by a narrow passage across the width. In front of the sleeping area was a spacious lounge, and sandwiched between that and the café, which overlooked the sea, was a large kitchen.
    “All the catering equipment's in the attic there,” explained Jan. “Everything was stripped out for some reason - except the range, of course: too big to hump up there.” She pointed eagerly at the ceiling. “Now, come and see the dining area.”
    The cafe itself, devoid of furniture except for the original counter, looked immense. Greg peered through French windows onto the bay and the cold, steely sea beyond. Jan, grinning at Greg’s amazement, unlocked the French-windows and led him out onto a large patio, partially cantilevered in heavy timber to extend its area.
    “There must have been benches and tables out here,” deduced Greg as he surveyed the remains of rusted bolts set into the concrete dais.
    "S'right Sherlock. What you reckon?”
    “Jan, it's great! But why haven’t they made use of it themselves?”
    “Can’t even guess: no imagination, I reckon. Bay gets packed in summer - from Easter on, in fact. It’s divided by rocks into coves all along; perfect suntraps. And apart from the Holly Tree, there’s nowhere in miles you can get so much as a cup of tea. There’s a restaurant in Trevelly, but it's pricey for casual campers and sunbathers.”
    “Mmm, probably closes for lunch anyway,” said Greg derisively. “People have free access to the bay, then?”
    “Oh yes; the estate has an isolated bay of its own, and only runs to the edge of this field. The lane you came down is a public road to the beach. Honestly Greg, this place could pay a good living.”
    “I’m sure it could.” Greg nodded his agreement. “It’s a pity everything's so uncertain.”
    “I know - I couldn’t take it all in when I first came here; it hadn’t been lived in -much less used commercially - for years. Wicked shame, I reckon.”
    “What sort of work were you doing for Penmaric?” asked Greg.
    “Secretarial - looked after his paperwork. Lovely job, and I could do the bulk of it here and look after Jamie at the same time. Pay wasn’t fantastic, but this place came rent free.”
    “Who’s running things now?”
    “Well, Sarah tried, but she's had so little cooperation from Nigel she’s put it under temporary management. She’s promised me my job if things are resolved, but it’s a big ‘if’. I’m still doing enough hours to cover the rent, but the new manager has his own secretary.”
    “Couldn’t you work for him?”
    “Not considered it really, but it wouldn’t be any more permanent than having a go at this place.”
    Greg nodded. “You’re right - and for a little more effort this place could pay far better