A French Affair (22 page)

She went right up to the flat this time and went into Matthew’s study. It felt all wrong opening the desk and looking for papers but this was no time to be squeamish. Needless to say there was no file marked ‘Deeds’ but she pulled out the top folder anyway. If she didn’t find anything quickly she’d give up.

Nothing remotely like deeds to an ancient building appeared but a sheaf of bank statements were on the top. Knowing she should just put them back she was compelled to look through them. One standing order leapt out at her. It was for five hundred pounds a month, payable to Yvette Dupont – his ex-wife.

She put it all back as quickly as she could and rushed downstairs again. She gulped the now cold coffee and followed the valuer like a collie at the heels of an errant sheep.

She ran out to buy a Danish pastry in lieu of breakfast the moment the valuer had gone. She was just stuffing the last of it in her mouth when she saw Carmella come into the shop. She was wearing her
floor-length suede coat and her caramel hair was swept up in a chignon that reminded Gina of Grace Kelly with her timeless beauty. This was all she needed. Although if Carmella was on a buying trip Gina was ready to do some hard bargaining.

She checked her mouth for crumbs before coming forward. ‘Good morning,’ she said in her best PR-girl voice. ‘May I help you?’

Carmella cast a practised and calculating glance over the room. ‘Just looking round,’ she said.

For some reason Gina got the impression it wasn’t the antiques she was looking at. ‘I’m afraid I haven’t had a chance to source any more scent bottles yet,’ Gina said, ‘but I’m sure there are lots of other things that might catch your eye.’

‘Oh I’m sure,’ said Carmella.

Gina didn’t feel she could actually follow her, so she just watched. She was poised to swoop in with a really high price on anything that wasn’t clearly labelled. But Carmella showed no interest at all in the antiques.

Gina had retreated to the kitchen to wash up some mugs when Carmella reappeared.

‘Actually, I’ll be frank with you. I’m not interested in buying things here. I’m interested in buying the building.’

‘
What?
’

Carmella smiled, but she didn’t repeat her words. Gina suddenly felt sick and her mouth went dry.

‘It’s not for sale,’ she managed. But was she right? What was that valuation all about then? Things must be worse than she thought.

Carmella raised a perfect eyebrow. ‘Are you sure?’ She shrugged in a way that indicated that Gina was a fool.
‘Anyway, I’d like you to show me round. I may want things moved so I can see better.’

Carmella’s faint foreign accent seemed to add emphasis, but Gina became firm. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t possibly move things around. I’m not the owner and I’ve been given no instructions about selling the building. You’ll have to come back when Matthew is here.’

‘I know when Mr Ballinger is due back, thank you, and I don’t want to wait that long. And if it’s not for sale now, it soon will be.’

‘You can’t possibly know that.’ Gina was doing well with her haughty, I’m-in-charge stance but this was a blow.

‘Oh, but I can and do know it. I am friends with Yvette Dupont and she assures me it is going on the market any minute, for a very good price. It’s just the sort of property I’m looking for.’

‘But why do you need another property? You already have a shop in the town.’

‘You have obviously seen my shop. It’s tiny. I always knew it would be too small but I heard that the French House was going to be for sale so I came here anyway, to establish myself.’

Gina was quietly furious. How could Carmella have possibly known the French House would definitely be going on the market? Gina knew Matthew owed Yvette money – probably a lot of money – but surely things hadn’t come to this? Remembering that Matthew had told her a lovely old antiques guy had been shoved out of the way for Carmella’s shop that she ‘always knew would be too small’ enraged Gina further. She became even more icy to compensate. ‘Why did you do that? What a waste of money. If you knew the French House was going to
be for sale, why didn’t you wait for it to come on the market?’

‘I’m going to keep the other premises, just for jewellery. And why should I wait? I wanted my name to be known before I make a big splash.’ She paused. ‘What is all this to do with you anyway? You just work here, no?’

Gina felt desperate. It was nothing to do with her really, she just cared about it enormously. She couldn’t think of anything to say so she shrugged.

‘So, please show me round,’ went on Carmella crisply. ‘Otherwise things may be damaged when I move them about.’

Gina speculated for a few seconds on the wisdom of calling the police to get Carmella thrown out but she realised it was a ridiculous overreaction. Should she ask Bill to help her strong-arm Carmella on to the street? No. By the time she’d explained her reasons to him Carmella would either have left, or taken her frustration out on the stock and flung a Staffordshire figure of the Queen of Prussia across the room.

‘OK. I will show you round but you have to pretend it’s because you’re interested in old houses. I’m not having the dealers disturbed by thinking the building might be for sale.’

Carmella shrugged but nodded in agreement.

‘Of course it is a listed building,’ said Gina. ‘Grade One starred, which means you can’t make any alterations at all, outside or in.’ Then she remembered that only proper stately homes, or buildings like Westminster Abbey, were Grade One listed and hoped Carmella wouldn’t know this. Although she was fairly confident she was right about the alterations.

Carmella smiled that supercilious smirk. ‘Not a problem. Each small room will showcase a different part of my collection.’

‘Of course, it’s terribly damp in here,’ said Gina, hurrying Carmella past Tiggy, and showing her into a pretty room that smelt of lavender and beeswax.

‘Really?’ Carmella’s sharp upward inflection told Gina that Carmella knew she was lying. They went through the rest of the building in silence.

When she left Carmella said, ‘It’s absolutely perfect. Do make sure Mr Ballinger knows I’m willing to make an offer. No need to put it on the market first.’

Gina nodded, biting back a bitter comment about Carmella and Yvette having stitched him up already. ‘I will make absolutely sure he knows.’ Then she shut the door behind her with a little slam that set the bell above it ringing.

‘What did she do to annoy you?’ asked Bill, coming up. ‘It’s not like you to be snippy with the customers.’

Gina sighed. ‘I know. She was an exception.’

That night, Gina resolved to ignore any bumps in the night. She had real things to be anxious about: she didn’t have nerves to spare on the supernatural. She told Oscar this as they went up to the flat after his last excursion into the garden. He seemed to agree with this plan.

Fortunately for Gina, she was so tired after her previous bad night and everything that had gone on she slept like a log. She had two last waking thoughts, somehow simultaneously: Burglars, take what you like but don’t wake me up! and ‘Matthew, please just come home.’

‘
I CAN’T BELIEVE
you just did that!’ said Sally, holding on to her daughters – Sephie now sling-less – as Gina put a cheque in the drawer. ‘You just sold a desk and it sounded like you really knew what you were talking about.’

‘Not just a desk, sweetie, a cylinder bureau, and yes, he did notice it was a bit damaged but when I pointed out he couldn’t have afforded it if it wasn’t, he paid up like a lamb.’

It was nearly the end of Gina’s tenure and she’d gained a lot of confidence over the time she’d been in charge – with regard to the antiques anyway.

‘I’m still impressed by your knowledge, Gines,’ said Sally as Ariadne tried to escape her grip. Sephie, usually the leader, seemed a bit more clingy since her accident and it had meant that Sally hadn’t had time to come to the centre recently. When she wasn’t looking after the girls she was making decorative items for Carmella’s shop.

Gina brushed off the compliment. ‘I do know a tiny bit more than I did before. We both do.’

‘I think Rainey would be very proud about how well we’re – you’re – doing,’ said Sally, catching hold of the
escapee before she could launch herself on to an eighteenth-century chaise longue.

‘I think she would. Selling has never been a problem but I actually bought a collection of bits and pieces the other day,’ related Gina proudly. ‘I’ll show you in a minute.’ She bit her lip. ‘I hope I didn’t rip the seller off – a nice woman – but she seemed more than happy, so I expect it’s all right. Of course, we won’t know exactly what I’ve got until Matthew gets back. Er – Ariadne! Don’t touch anything, will you, darling?’

‘When are you expecting him?’

‘I’m not exactly sure. I had a text earlier and he said it depends what ferry he gets. I’m hoping for first thing tomorrow.’

‘Are you desperate to see him, or desperate to get home?’ asked Sally teasingly.

‘Enough with the matchmaking!’ said Gina. ‘And neither. Though it will be good to hand back the responsibility.’ And to see him again, but she didn’t say this out loud.

‘So, has he been in touch much?’

‘Some.’ Gina made out she was fine with this but in fact she was a bit miffed that he hadn’t been in touch more often. She had been thinking about
him
constantly. He’d sent her a text in reply to her phone message about the valuer and the second one she had left about Carmella, telling her not to worry, but there’d been nothing since.

‘You don’t think he’s got back with his wife, do you?’

‘Of course I don’t think that. And it’s nothing to do with me if he has. Silly woman!’

‘It’s only what I’d be thinking, that’s all,’ said Sally.

‘Well I’m not,’ said Gina firmly, although now the idea had been put into her head, she was, slightly.

‘And there’s nothing else you’re not telling me?’

‘No!’

‘You just seem a bit shifty to me.’

Gina gave her sister a hug. ‘Oh, that’s just me being edgy. All this responsibility, it’s getting to me.’ Although this was true, she hadn’t told Sally about Carmella’s visit. It wasn’t her secret; it was Matthew’s.

‘Well, you’ll be able to hand it all back soon.’

Gina nodded. ‘I’ll miss Oscar though. He’s more like a best friend now than a dog.’

Everyone else had gone home and Gina was just about to lock up when she thought she’d check the ledger. She was leaning over it when someone came up behind her and put one hand over her eyes and another round her waist.

She screamed and struggled free, using a backward jab of her elbow to get her assailant off her.

‘Holy shit, Gina!’ said a voice she instantly recognised. ‘No need to overreact.’

Heart racing, Gina turned round. ‘Egan! You bloody idiot. What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’ She was incandescent – it wasn’t possible to overreact to being jumped on from behind. Although her brain now accepted that this was Egan, her ex, and not someone likely to harm her, her heart still pounded.

‘I just thought it would be fun to give you a surprise. And not that much of a surprise – I saw you peeking into the shop. You knew I’m in the area now.’

‘Anyone coming up behind me like that would make me think I was being attacked!’

He sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just came up for a chat.’

‘I was just about to close the shop,’ she said crisply, still feeling shaken.

He looked at his watch, which Gina couldn’t help noticing was a gold Rolex he hadn’t owned when she knew him. ‘What? At just gone four? Things not going well here then?’

‘They’re going just fine. Thank you.’

Egan shook his head. ‘Not the word on the street.’

‘Oh, for God’s sake. This is the Cotswolds, not an American TV cop show.’

‘Calm down, old girl.’ He held up his palm. ‘I come in peace!’

Belatedly remembering she’d emailed him asking for her money back, Gina tried to shake off her shock and anger. ‘Oh, OK then.’

‘I thought I’d come in person and write you that cheque – any chance of a cuppa?’

Gina didn’t particularly want to spend any longer with Egan than she had to but she did want that cheque. If that meant having to make Egan a cup of tea then so be it. She felt badly in need of something herself.

‘All right. Tea, or would you prefer coffee?’ she asked, resignedly.

‘Coffee would be great, thanks.’

When she had made two drinks she led Egan to a desk where they could sit down.

She studied him briefly as she moved her chair further away from his and sat down. She would be the first to admit he was good-looking, in a conventional sort of way. She found she now preferred something more rough-hewn if not actually unkempt. She also realised he was much shorter than Matthew and she wondered what she’d ever
seen in him. He had pursued her relentlessly though, and now she supposed she had been flattered.

‘Sorry about earlier,’ said Egan with the smile that so often got him what he wanted, but no longer worked with her. ‘I never thought you’d be so scared of me.’

‘I wasn’t scared of you, Egan. I was just scared.’

He nodded and sipped his coffee, maddeningly slowly. He was obviously determined to stay a while. ‘So how do you get on with the proprietor? Seems a bit of a nonentity.’

Gina ordered her hackles to lie down. ‘Not at all, he’s very – he’s surprisingly dynamic.’

‘Really?’ With a single word he managed to imply Gina was telling the opposite of the truth.

‘Oh yes.’ She wasn’t going to be tricked into giving an example of his dynamism.

‘So, are you and he – er – an item?’

Gina was incensed. How dare he! It was none of his business! But just as she was about to deny it, it occurred to her it might be a good thing for the centre if Egan – and thereby Carmella – thought she and Matthew were together. ‘Um . . .’

‘You’re still holding out, are you? You always did like to play hard to get.’

Trust Egan to put everything down to sex. And how had she put up with his clichés so long? She smiled, hoping to look enigmatic as she couldn’t think of anything to say that Egan couldn’t purposefully misconstrue.