A French Affair (28 page)

‘You’re not the last to know,’ she said, ‘but I had to ask Nicholas first and then make sure that Andrew could do it. I haven’t been in touch with sponsors yet, or with all the architectural societies who’d pay almost anything for a chance to look round this house.’ She drew breath. ‘But you know what? I wish I didn’t have to mention it to you at all. You’re so bloody negative. I’m doing this for you, you know.’

‘I don’t remember asking you to!’ Matthew blazed back at her.

‘You didn’t ask me to. I decided to just do something because if I left things to you the French House would be sold, for peanuts, to a bitch of a woman who doesn’t care who she stomps over to get what she wants. A bitch-woman who is in cahoots with your wife, I have to point out.’

‘My
ex
-wife.’

‘She won’t truly be your
ex
-wife until you no longer owe her money and she stops hovering over you like a vulture, waiting for you to show weakness, so she can swoop in and tear you apart.’

He ignored this. ‘What do you mean Carmella is in cahoots with Yvette? And how on earth do you know?’

‘You know she is. I told you about her visit that time. Well, it seems that Yvette could hardly wait to tell Carmella the French House was hers. She must have been on the phone the moment she left the restorers. Why on earth you signed such a stupid divorce settlement is beyond me – such a gentleman, and now you might be thrown out on the street.’ She had a horrible thought. ‘Unless there’s something you’re not telling me – that you’ve put the house on the market already and it’s a done deal?’

‘Of course I haven’t, but she’s right,’ he said, a little more quietly now. The anger was leaching out of him, leaving that air of exhausted misery that she had seen before. But Gina was too angry herself to let him get away with what he’d just said.

‘God, why are you so defeatist. You’re stuck in the past, you’re too sodding honourable to breathe and you will do fuck-nothing to help yourself. And then you accuse me of bullying your friend, when you know full well I’d never do anything to hurt Nicholas. You’re an idiot, and I’m fed up with it!’

She turned around and strode out of the room, bumping straight into Nicholas, who managed to catch her without falling over.

‘Little chat not going well?’ he asked, holding her shoulders and looking down sympathetically.

Gina started to laugh – it was either that or cry. ‘You could say that.’

‘Matthew is a very proud man,’ he said. ‘He won’t accept help easily.’

‘Well, he doesn’t need to accept mine, not any more.
I’m done with him – as a person, as a colleague, in every possible way you can be done with someone.’ Her desire to laugh was turning into a need to sob. Two major rows in twenty-four hours was more than she could stand. ‘I’m going to say goodbye, Nicholas, and thank you. We’re obviously not going to be having a Gilbert and Sullivan concert now.’

‘Now wait a minute. It’s time I stepped in. Bernard! Bring the champagne and then go and fetch Matthew. If he’s escaped into the garden, get him back. We haven’t heard a car so he must still be on the premises.’

Gina watched as Nicholas undid the wire on the bottle he had obviously had waiting for the moment. ‘It’s a bit early to start drinking, isn’t it?’

‘The joy of champagne, my dear girl, is that it is always the right time of day for it and eleven a.m. is absolutely perfect. Besides, I think you need a bit of a stiffener.’

Silently she agreed.

Bernard appeared with Matthew following. He was tight-lipped and unrepentant, Gina could tell. Only respect and fondness for Nicholas kept him in the room. Her too, for that matter. He reluctantly accepted a glass of champagne.

‘Now,’ said Nicholas when they all had glasses and Bernard had gone. ‘I gather there has been a difference of opinion.’

‘Yup,’ said Matthew.

‘And because I’m ancient and therefore infinitely wise, I would like to be the peacemaker.’

‘You’ll have a job on your hands,’ said Gina. She sipped her drink and glowered at Matthew over her glass.

‘There has been a misunderstanding,’ Nicholas went
on. ‘But that doesn’t mean a bit of explaining couldn’t make everything all right again.’

Gina wished she had the same confidence in him that Nicholas appeard to have in himself; she thought it would take more than a very charming and endearing old man to melt the icy disapproval and disdain that was coming off Matthew in almost-visible waves.

‘The plan is,’ said Nicholas, ‘to have a travelling concert. Now, Matthew, listen to me.’ He put up a hand. ‘You can have your say at the end. I know you want to protect me and I love you for it but I’m not such a frail old bird that I can’t think for myself. I haven’t felt this energised in years.’ He beamed at Gina and she couldn’t help feeling deep affection wash over her.

‘So,’ Nicholas went on, ‘each room will have its own musical event, and people will go from one to the other. For example’ – he made a sweeping gesture which indicated just how enormous was the room they were currently in – ‘here we could have quite a chorus – maybe half a dozen singers – a couple of musicians and room for what, fifty guests?’

‘That many?’ asked Gina. This was good news. She felt her spirits lift a little. Matthew glowered but kept silent. At least he hadn’t started ranting again.

‘Oh yes. In my mother’s day we used to have parties for three hundred people.’ Nicholas said this in a casual way that indicated a certain amount of pride. ‘And from here,’ he went on, leading them across the vast expanse to some double doors that led into another reception room of equal size and magnificence, ‘our guests would move on to something of equal charm. I love Gilbert and Sullivan, don’t you?’ he said to Matthew. ‘I know it’s
considered low-brow but really, the music is so charming and the words so clever.’

He led them about the house describing how he pictured it all happening – often using words and expressions that Gina had used when she had been trying to convince him it was a good idea. She could have hugged him. They ended up in the Orangery. Gina had pictured this full of fairy lights – slightly reminiscent of Sally’s Christmas garage – although she doubted if Sally would let her borrow her lights now they had quarrelled.

‘. . . So you see how utterly lovely it could all be,’ said Nicholas at last, obviously completely enchanted by the idea himself.

‘What I don’t quite understand,’ said Matthew after a few agonising moments of silence, ‘is why you’re willing to do this when you’ve been so intent on keeping your house secret for all these years.’

‘Well, I’ll tell you what it is. When Gina came and told me her vision and I saw it all through her young eyes I thought, Why don’t I let anyone share in the beauty of this house?’ Nicholas said.

‘I understand that you might be willing to share it with a few chosen people, who’ll appreciate the architecture and the history – but why all this carry on?’

‘Do you know? I think I prefer to have people who won’t particularly appreciate the architecture, but who just think how beautiful, how special and what a treat the evening is.’

Matthew was still unconvinced. ‘I’m not sure I really believe you. It’ll be such a major intrusion.’

‘Ah, but you see, Gina promised me she would wear the Dress!’ Nicholas beamed, and there could be no doubting his sincerity.

There was another excruciating pause.

Matthew looked at his friend, and then down at her, his expression completely unreadable. ‘If she can get into it!’

Gina narrowed her eyes at him, aware this was his way of saying he had forgiven her to some extent. ‘You’re forgetting that Lady Mary was pregnant when the portrait was painted.’

‘And it can always be let out a little more,’ Matthew went on, raising one eyebrow.

Gina practically snarled at him, but inside, she was rejoicing.

‘If you two want to do something so bonkers, I can’t stop you. But it is a completely mad idea, you know that,’ he went on.

‘All the best ideas are!’ said Nicholas with a flourish. ‘All is well in paradise again. Shall we have another bottle?’

Gina laughed. ‘No thank you. I must go. But thank you so, so much!’ She put her arms round his neck and kissed him.

Only slightly taken aback he said, ‘Well, you did bring me chocolate cake – it seemed the least I could do.’

Matthew and Gina left the house together, on speaking terms if not yet quite on the terms they had been on in France.

‘I wondered where that cake had come from,’ said Matthew, as they got outside.

‘I think I want to marry Nicholas,’ said Gina, ignoring the cake remark. ‘Do you think he’s gay?’

Matthew laughed. ‘You keep your hands off him! He’s
a poor old man and you’ve put him to enough trouble. And he’s not gay.’

‘I was only joking!’ She became serious. ‘I am really sorry I didn’t run the whole thing past you first but I never thought Nicholas would agree to it. If he hadn’t been keen I would have forgotten the whole thing. I didn’t want you to worry for nothing.’

He looked down at her again, fond but stern. ‘I’m sorry I was so brutal – I was worried about Nicholas and with everything that’s gone on . . . just don’t ever do anything like that behind my back again, please? And I’m not saying I like the idea of you doing this for me. I still think it’s my problem, to sort myself, but I don’t think we can convince Nicholas to back out now – I’ve never seen him so excited.’ He looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘And don’t go offering yourself in marriage to anyone either, just because they are kind and enormously wealthy.’ He opened her car door and pushed her into it.

Once seated she wound down the window. ‘I’m not making any promises about that, Matthew,’ she said, and shot off in a shower of gravel.

GINA WAS IMMENSELY
cheered that she and Matthew were friends again, although she wondered when they’d be lovers again too. However, her main concern now was her row with Sally.

She wasn’t ready to forgive Sally for what seemed like a major betrayal, yet felt she had to do
something
to make things right for her if she could. She had one friend who might be able to help. If he couldn’t, she’d let Sally and Carmella and Yvette sort it out for themselves.

As it was the quickest of the many tasks she had on the mental list she had begun at Nicholas’s house, she did it first. Still in her coat, she found her phone and went through her contacts.

‘Is that the best property search consultant in the whole wide world?’ she began.

‘Is that the very best schmoozer and flatterer in the whole wide world?’

‘It might be. But only if you are indeed the best.’ Gina found herself smiling. It was lovely to be talking to an old friend.

‘
You know I am. And that’s why you’re ringing me after months of silence. How’s your cottage?’

‘Oh Dan, it’s bliss, and it’s bliss to talk to you too. I need some help . . .’ She went on to describe Carmella’s requirements in detail and then added, ‘But if you come across a property called the French House – not yet on the market—’

‘Nothing I find is yet on the market, sweetheart. It’s how I operate.’

‘Well, it’s not for sale. If you could find its clone, that would be perfect, but the French House is spoken for.’

‘OK. So who is my client? And who is paying my fee?’

‘Can we just leave that for a bit? You will get paid somehow. It’s all a bit up in the air . . .’

‘Not like you to be so vague.’ Dan sounded surprised.

‘I know, but I just haven’t had time to work out the details yet.’

Fortunately he seemed to accept this.

They talked for a while about what they’d both been up to and then Gina disconnected. Dan really was a genius at finding property for people. That done, Gina made a proper list. It was horribly long.

She sent an email to a selected group of people and was gratified to get one back from Anthea, the auctioneer. She telephoned almost immediately afterwards.

‘I can’t believe you’re putting on an event at Fairfield Manor!’ she said the moment Gina answered. ‘I’ve been trying to get myself through those doors for years. And so has my mother-in-law. You can put us down for at least six tickets, but she might want more. Such a coup – getting her friends in there.’

‘Oh, I am glad you’re so keen. We’ll need plenty of
enthusiasm if we’re going to raise enough money.’ The moment she’d spoken she realised she shouldn’t have said that. Her professionalism had been knocked off balance by recent events. Matthew might not want anyone else to know what the event was actually in aid of.

‘What are you raising money for?’ asked Anthea, unaware that Gina had made a gaff.

Gina looked at her watch. ‘Actually, Anthea, would you be up for a quick meeting? In town? Are you free?’

‘I could be free and I’m already in town. What time would be good for you?’

‘I’m meeting Matthew at four.’ He hadn’t cancelled so she assumed this was still on.

‘Three o’clock then?’ said Anthea.

As she sat across from Anthea at a table in the café around the corner from her office, it occurred to Gina that auctioneers probably needed counselling skills, at least sometimes.

‘What’s up, Gina? I presume from the urgency you didn’t just want a girly catch-up.’

Gina thought for a moment. Now she was here should she confide in Anthea? She needed another woman to talk to, someone she trusted. Her brief acquaintance told her Anthea was such a woman. ‘I know we don’t know each other very well but I need an ear,’ she said. ‘I’d ring my mum but as it’s about my sister, I can’t really do that.’

‘Oh, families. Who’d have ’em? Come on, give. You’ll feel better for it.’

Gina did feel much better having told Anthea all about her row with Sally and she appreciated that Anthea saw both sides but didn’t judge.

Anthea had proved such a good listener she’d ended up telling her about the real reason behind the event and her determination to help save the French House. She didn’t go into all the details about why Matthew had to sell – she didn’t feel it was her place to wash his dirty linen in public – but Anthea was sympathetic and thought it was in a good cause. She thought everyone would be so keen to see inside the house they wouldn’t care if it was ‘save the bankers’ they were contributing to.