Paradise Fields (31 page)

‘Let's face it, Nel, we don't know anything that he has in mind. It's all speculation.'

‘But it might be true. And you need to convince Pierce—'

The phone rang again. ‘Blast it! Who is it this time?' Viv snatched the receiver from the wall. ‘Hello!' she said crossly. Then her expression changed. She didn't speak, she just made little whimpers. Then she said, ‘Fine. I'll be there in an hour,' and put the phone down. ‘It's Mum! That was her neighbour. She's fallen over and is in hospital.'

‘Oh Viv! Poor Florence! How is she?'

‘The neighbour's not sure. I'm going there now to pick up some things and go and visit her.'

‘I'll bring up those books I promised her. Where is she?'

‘Just the local hospital, thank goodness.'

‘Then it can't be too bad. Anything remotely serious and they take them into the Royal.'

‘That's true. But I'm afraid it means I won't be able to—'

‘Talk to the committee and see Pierce. That's OK. I'll do it.'

‘Will you remember everyone's names?' As she talked, Vivian was going through her cupboards, finding packets of biscuits, homoeopathic remedies and various health foods. She filled a plastic carrier with fruit.

‘I'll manage. Now will you be all right? Do you need me to come with you?'

‘I shouldn't think so. I'll ring you if things are really bad. Poor Mum! It's the first time anything like this has happened. It'll knock her confidence terribly. Now, have I got everything?'

‘Shall I take Hazel with me? In case you're late?'

The little whippet, hearing her name, looked up with dark, anxious eyes at her mistress.

‘That would be a good idea. I can come and pick her up later, but she'll have company, and you can feed her.'

‘Yes, but not on tripe. I can't stand the smell.'

‘It's so good for them!'

‘I know. But it makes me vomit.'

‘Well, you're lucky I haven't got any defrosted then. Come on now. I'll lock the door.'

‘Viv, I think you've forgotten something.'

‘No, I haven't. I'll get most of the stuff from Mum's house.'

‘You've got your appointment book with you then?'

‘No! Why should I need that?'

‘So you can cancel your afternoon client?'

Vivian banged her forehead. ‘Oh God! How could I have forgotten!'

‘I can recommend some really good supplements . . .'

NEL GATHERED UP
her little extra passenger, the passenger's coats, her bed and her toys, and took her home. It was only when the other dogs had finished greeting her, and when they were all settled in a heap in front of the Rayburn that she noticed her answer-phone flashing.

There was a certain amount of muttering and throat clearing before a voice said, ‘Sorry you're not there to talk to, lass, and I've got to go out myself, but I thought you'd like to know that the copy of the will's arrived, and the hospice do own that ransom strip! Sir Gerald bequeathed it . . .'

Abraham was cut off before he could finish, but he'd said enough. It was brilliant news! Nel danced round her kitchen shouting ‘Yes' a few times before the dogs' silent reproach made her calm down. It was too exciting to keep to herself. Even though Vivian was having a crisis, Nel decided to ring her. It might cheer her up a bit.

She got her on her mobile.

‘Viv! Love! Sorry to bother you when I know you're so busy, but I had to tell you! There was a message from Abraham when I got back! The strip is ours! Sir Gerald left it to us in his will!'

‘Oh that's fantastic!'

‘I can't believe it, it's such good news!' Nel was still jigging up and down as she spoke on the phone.

‘But you need to convince Pierce that he should let Abraham be his builder, and not bloody old Gideon Freebody. Or we'll lose access to the river.' Vivian, stuck in traffic, and worried about her mother, was less euphoric.

Hearing this in her voice, Nel said, ‘How are things there?'

‘Well, obviously I haven't seen Mum yet. I'm just on my way to the hospital, but this is such good news. It'll give me something nice to tell her. Provided we can win over the rest of the committee—'

‘We wouldn't have to win them all over, even – I think seventy-five per cent would do—'

‘Oh, I must go. The lights have changed. Speak to you later!'

It took Pierce Hunstanton quite a long time to be persuaded to see Nel, partly because he didn't remember who she was, and partly because, when he'd finally placed her, he assumed she would be haranguing him about the buildings.

Nel decided to meet him in the local wine bar. Their appointment was for six. She knew she would have spent all day touring the county signing up not only farmers interested in coming to the market, but people willing to buy unspecified amounts of land for an unspecified price. Alcohol would be necessary, and she could walk home if she had to. She also knew most of the bar staff and felt at home there. Although she was buoyed up by the knowledge that the hospice owned the vital strip of land, she wanted to persuade Pierce to
pick the right builder, and his and his wife's greed might encourage him to do otherwise.

She had already finished her first white wine spritzer when her quarry arrived, so she didn't refuse his offer of another one. Of course it was bad to use alcohol as a prop, but she needed props. Having right on your side wasn't always enough.

‘Is that with water, or with lemonade?'

‘Water, please. I'm trying to reduce the calories, not add to them.'

He gave the kind of smile used by people who didn't have much sense of humour, were aware this was a bad thing, and so smiled whenever there was a pause in the conversation, which was sometimes quite the wrong place. How he'd managed to inherit none of his father's considerable charm was a mystery and a shame. There was a faint family likeness, but as Pierce Hunstanton came back to the table with the drinks, Nel cursed the bit of water on Vivian's mother's kitchen floor. Had she not slipped on it, she wouldn't be in hospital, being tended to by her daughter, and her daughter would be here, flashing her cleavage and making little fluttery gestures with her hands. Vivian was so lovely, and so confident, she could have had Pierce Hunstanton eating out of her hand in moments. Nel had to depend on being kind and friendly and smiling a lot, and while this method had sold a lot of raffle tickets in the past, she wasn't sure if it was quite what was required to persuade Pierce Hunstanton that he only wanted a small fortune, not a huge one.

With a flash of genius brought about by panic, she remembered a Theatre Studies essay she had helped Fleur with. It was about Method Acting, and said you
had to live your role. If Nel pretended she was Vivian she might become like Vivian and thus be charming and persuasive and sexy. The sexy part was important, she decided, because everyone knew that sex sold, and Nel wanted to sell her plans to Pierce.

‘It's terribly kind of you to see me,' she cooed when she'd taken a sip of her drink. ‘Kerry Anne not with you?'

‘She's in London. Due back tomorrow. Now what is it you wanted to see me about, Mrs Innes? I'm sure I don't need to tell you I'm a busy man.'

‘Nel, please.' She laughed, she hoped warmly. ‘I'm only ever called Mrs Innes at school. I'll think you're referring to my mother-in-law, who's been dead for years. The thing is,' she went on in a more businesslike way, realising the reference to her dead mother-in-law had probably been a mistake, ‘I've come to ask you something.'

‘Oh, why?'

‘What do you mean, why?' Nel forgot to be Viv and frowned. He was supposed to say, ‘What?'

‘What have you come to ask me? I know you're against the fields being built on, and I fully intend to build on them. What can you possibly have to say?' He cleared his throat. ‘If you've come to say you've discovered some wildflower or rare bug or some such on the land, don't tell me about it, tell the relevant authorities.' He laughed again, although why, Nel couldn't imagine.

She stopped trying to be anyone other than herself. ‘No, no, it's nothing like that! In fact, I'm not against the building plans any more. At least, not all of them.'

‘What? What on earth has happened to make you change your mind! You were rabid!'

‘I was not rabid, but I've come to see that building on that land is more or less inevitable.' She shifted her glass around on the beer mat. ‘It's just what kind of development might be there that I want to discuss.'

‘I fail to see what on earth it has to do with you.'

‘I do live very near those fields. The development will affect everyone in the area. Which is why I think it behoves you—'

‘What?'

‘Obliges you to choose the least invasive option. Don't you think?' she added, to make what she'd said seem less threatening and more appealing.

He frowned and ruffled his hair in a confused way and it occurred to Nel that he looked rather like Hugh Grant, minus a few of his brain cells and all of his sex appeal. ‘Well, there's a turn-up for the books. I thought you were dead against any sort of building, going on what Chris Mowbray told me.'

Nel smiled, to stop herself seething audibly. ‘Chris Mowbray doesn't know me as well as he thinks he does.'

‘Well, that's good. I mean that you're not against the building completely.'

Nel smiled again, aware it was possible that she might have picked up Pierce's habit of smiling at inappropriate moments; her own sense of humour seemed to be leaching into the vacuum of his missing one. ‘I wonder if you've really thought about what it's going to be like, looking at all those little houses, having them interrupting your view of the river.' She didn't mention the executive housing, because that would still be there with Abraham's plan.

‘Oh it won't do that, not from the penthouse.'

Nel tried again. ‘But the noise, Pierce, screaming children, chainsaws, lawn mowers, it'll be terrible in summer when you've got the windows open.'

‘We don't plan to spend much time down here. Kerry Anne's family live in America.'

‘And she sees a lot of her family?' From Nel's point of view, Kerry Anne couldn't see enough of her family unless she actually went to live with them.

‘Oh yes. She likes to be up and doing.'

And what she was doing, Pierce would probably rather not know, thought Nel, somewhat bitterly. ‘She's very keen on Sacha's cosmetics, isn't she?' This presumably was a safe thing to say. ‘It's nice for her to have a project while she's down here in the country. Otherwise she might get bored.'

Pierce's eyes narrowed. ‘Bored?' He sounded a little anxious. ‘How so? She's a married woman with a husband to look after.'

‘She hasn't got children yet. And you're a big strong man. I don't suppose you take a lot of looking after.' She smiled, aware she was being coy, and not sure if this was the right tack to be on.

He laughed, flattered. ‘Well, no.'

‘And you're away a lot, I gather?' Nel wasn't quite sure about this, but fortunately for her, he confirmed it with a nod.

She took a breath, not quite sure what argument she could put forward to convince him to go with Abraham. She leaned forward as she got into her role. ‘Which is why Kerry Anne needs an interest.'

‘What are you talking about?'

Nel had very little idea, but she hoped it didn't show. ‘I mean Kerry Anne's very interested in Sacha's beauty
products. If she wants to be near Sacha, she'll want to live somewhere pleasanter, don't you think?'

She smiled again, imagining herself a pretty, younger woman, who got what she wanted by smiling in the right way at the right time.

‘Frankly I don't much care about the estate and I don't think Kerry Anne does either. I'll quite likely sell the house when all the work is done. Move on, somewhere quieter. Kerry Anne can find another hobby.'

Nel almost choked into her spritzer, wishing she'd gone for straight white wine, something to bolster her a little. ‘But Pierce,' she said desperately, ‘don't you see . . .'

‘What?'

What indeed? What on earth could she think of to say that would make him make the right decision? Oh Viv, if only you were here. ‘It's not just a hobby she wants. That wouldn't keep her from . . .' She hesitated, mostly to give herself time to think, but she was aware that Pierce was frowning slightly again.

‘Pierce, I'm telling you this as a friend, as a woman, older and wiser than Kerry Anne . . .'

‘Yes? I wish you'd spit it out.'

Nel wished she would too, but still hadn't quite decided what to spit. ‘If she doesn't have this project, this enthusiasm, as I said, she's liable to get bored. And you do know what happens to pretty young wives with a lot of money who are bored, don't you?' He obviously didn't. ‘They are preyed on by young, attractive men.'

This sounded a bit desperate and she didn't really believe it. She knew that pretty young women were preyed on by men who would be classed as older. Younger than Nel, of course.

‘What on earth are you talking about?'

Nel decided she had nothing left to lose. Jake was not interested in her, never had been. And perhaps she was behaving like a woman scorned, but she felt she might as well tell Pierce about it, if it would keep the desecration of Paradise Fields to an almost acceptable level.

She leaned in and lowered her voice to an extent that Pierce had to lean forward to hear her. ‘I really hate to be the one to tell you this, and I'm quite sure that if her time was more occupied, you could nip it in the bud before anything happened, but Jake Demerand—'

‘Do I hear my name being taken in vain?' Jake's voice was commanding and Nel looked up, straight into his eyes. For once, they were not laughing and sexy, but cold, critical and dismissive. Nel felt a familiar stab of pain just below her breastbone. And she felt guilty, guilty of telling tales on him, and so miserable she wished she could die of it. Somehow she managed to keep her desperate feelings to herself.