(2012) Evie Undercover (9 page)

Until the moment he’d suggested that he and Evie go alone to get the furniture, he hadn’t known he was going to say that
,
but the minute the words
had left his mouth he’d
reali
s
ed
how much he wanted it to be just the two of them.

Not for any particular
reason
. H
e
’d
just thought it
would
be
fun
to
go off on their own
. S
he was easy enough to be with, had a good sense of humour and there’d be no risk of overdosing on Mediterranean gallantry. He’d been quite disappointed when she’d
insisted
that Eduardo come too; in fact, he was surprised at how disappointed he’d
felt
. Eduardo and his over-the-top gallantry must
be getting to him more than he
’d
realised
.

But she was right, of course
.
Eduardo would be a g
reat help at the co-operative.
And it wasn’t as if he’d
need to join them every day
.

He
and Evie
might
decide
to visit
some places of interest in the area
, and they’d do that by themselves. Thinking about it, h
e
really
ought to take
her
around – it
’d
be doing her a real favour
to show
her as much as possible while they were there as she might not get to Italy again for ages. It was the very least he could do, given how ably she was helping him.

The loud roar of the convertible broke into his reverie. He looked up and saw a cloud of dust where E
duardo’s car had been standing
.
As t
he
sound of
the
engine fad
ed
away
down the side of the mountain
,
she
walk
ed
over to the
top of the grassy slope
.

His eyes fastened themselves to her
a
s she
stood
there
staring at the view. H
er hands
were
clasped behind
her head, and h
er short cotton dress had lifted
slig
htly with her raised arms. H
is gaze was drawn to long bare legs that ended in
s
carlet-tipped toes
that
peep
ed
from
her
sandals.

T
here was certainly nothing sleek and sophisticated about Evie, he thought wryly,
and actually that
was quite nice for a change.

She was coming towards him. He pulled himself upright.

‘What’s next?’
She’d
com
e
to a stop in front
of him,
and
was
smiling up at
him. H
er
deep green
eyes
were
flecked with gold
in the bright sunlight.

Very nice, in fact.

He pulled his gaze away from her face. ‘You choose. Shall we get the beds first or are you hungry?’
             

She
bent slightly
to
look
at
the
watch
on his wrist
.
‘I doubt if we’ll have enough time to get the beds before the shops close for lunch,
’
she said.
‘
If you want, we can go to the supermarket, pick up something to eat, come back here and have a picnic on the grass. I love picnics. After that, we can measure up and think about the furniture you need.
Then
we can
go and
order the beds
at about five, when the shops have opened again.
’

‘That sounds like a good plan. Right, the supermarket it is. It’s funny, Evie,’ he heard himself say as they started to str
oll towards the parking area, ‘but b
eds seem to have featured a lot in our visit so far,
and
we’ve
not even
been here for two days.’

He opened the passenger door of the four
-
by
-
four, st
oo
d back and wondered why
on earth
he’d come out with such a comment. It was a leading remark of the worst sort as it could take them down a very unwise path.
Given that he was keen to kee
p a safe
distance
,
i
t had been really stupid of him.

‘Haven’t they just.
’
Her bare arm brushed
against his forearm
as she
climbed up into the car
, and he quickly stepped back
.

‘Which reminds me, Evie. We
mustn’t
forget to pick-up that scorpion spray.’

‘That was fab.’ She pushed the empty food wrappers into a heap at her side. ‘
Prosciutto
, melon, tomatoes off the vine, pecorino cheese,
juicy
yellow peaches, and gallons of white wine – everything I like most in the world. What more could anyone want!’

‘What more in
deed?’ he asked dry
ly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw
him
watching her.

Good.

She kicked off her sandals, leaned back on her elbows
and
stretched her legs out in front of her. Just as well that they were sitting down
, she thought,
staring
down the slope at the pool
;
sprawling on the grass wa
s about all she was good for. T
hat wine had certainly hit the spot. And if it had done that to her, Go
d knows what it had done to Tom.
He’d
who’d
had twice as much as she’d had.

‘You can tell me to mind my own business, Evie, but how come you’re working for an agency? I’ve had a lot of agency help over the years and I can
say
categorica
lly that you’re not the
typical agency girl, not even in a severe grey suit, with your hair in a bun and whopping great glasses.
Yet you
obviously are
a temp.
’

Oh, joy! Sh
e couldn’t have
created
a better chance to Move Things On A Bit if she’d written the script for him. But she must tread carefully
.
If she
tried to go too fast
, she
could
lose
he
r
story once and for all
as
he’d never again be able to relax with her.

‘It’s
complicated.
I
went to
Italy when I left school and
got a job
in a hotel
.
After a year,
I
came home
,
moved in
with my parents and
—’
Crap! Probably not a good idea to mention working for a paper
…
‘And, um,
got a job
in a pub
.
I
wasn’t sure
what I wanted to do with my life
and it gave me time to think
.
Two years
passed and
I still didn’t know what I wanted to do,
but
I
knew that I was
bored stiff
with the job and
with
living at home, especially after living on my own for a year
.
’ Not all lies … She
had
been bored stiff working at the local paper and
was
going stir crazy
at home
. No need to feel guilty, she told herself.
‘
My friends suggested I join them in London, so I did.
I had to do something
for money
– there’s a small matter of rent, and all that –
and I’
d had enough of
working evenings and weekends
so I joined the agency. Temping’s
OK and it’s given me
a bit more
breathing space.’

She smiled across at him
–
a playful smile, suitable for harmless banter. At least, she hoped it was that and not
the
grimace
of a hungry journalist
. ‘But I could say the same thing about you, Tom.’

‘You could? Well, yes, I suppose you could, and I t
hink you’d be right in a way.’ H
e sounded as if he was
really
thinking about what she’d said. ‘Being attached to a set of Chambers isn’t generally likened to working for an agency, but there are certainly similarities between the two. We both have a varied clientele, for example, and we generally perform just one function for the client and move on. Yes, you may well have h
it upon something there, Evie. I
t’s true that in some respects, a barrister’s work has much in common with that of an agency temp.’

Fuck! She hadn’t meant that at all.

‘Maybe so.’ She sat up and start
ed
to twirl a piece of grass
between her fingers
. ‘But what I actually meant was that just as you don’t
think I’m a typical agency girl, well
I don’t think you’re a typical lawyer.’

‘Is that so? You do intrigue me. What’s a typical lawyer like, then?’

‘Stuffier than you.’

‘So I’m not stuffy, am I?’

Thank God he was grinning
–
she hadn’t
gone too far. Not yet anyway. But s
he must be careful not to push for too much too soon.

             
‘No, not at all
.
I thought you were stuffy at first, but I was wrong.’

‘Aha, there are two lines for exploration here
.
We’ll start with the negative aspect of your comment. So you thought I was stuffy at first, did you? And your reasons for this?’

‘I suppose it was your clothes, and the way you almost ran out of the house as soon as I arrived each morning. And also, all day long I was surrounded by files and by briefs tied up in ribbon
–
everything looked stuffy and dry so I thought that you must be stuffy and dry, too. As I’d always assumed that lawyers were dull, it was only what I’d expected to find.’ She gave a girlie little lau
gh.

Yuk! She sounded totally pathetic, but at least she’d got the conversation back to where she wanted it to go. Now the ball was in his court.

‘I see. And now to the more flattering part of your statement – at least, I’m assuming that you consider a lack of stuffiness to be a positive characteristic. May I ask what caused you to revise your opinion?’

‘For a start, we wouldn’t be sitting here like this if you were stuffy. After last night, you would have been cold and unfriendly
. I
nstead, you’ve been quite cool about the fact that I wrecked your night and put you in a dead embarrassing po
sition. You’ve let us move on. S
o whatever you are, you’re not stuffy.’

‘I’m flattered. At least, I think I am. I’m now not sure exactly what you mean by
“
whatever you are
”
.’

‘I just meant that we all have different sides to us
–
some we show, some we don’t. That’s life. I’m sure there’s another side to you that I can’t see, but the side that I can see isn’t stuffy.’

Thank you; thank you, God! She’d got them on to the right path, and she’d done it so neatly, too
. S
he was a star
.

‘I see what you mean, and I think you’re right, Evie. In fact, it’s probably true of both of us. I’ll pick up on something you
’ve just
said to me. You said that my clothes and behaviour led you to think that I was one sort of person, and then you found out that I was another. I could say the same thing about you – your clothes and behaviour led me to see you in one light
, but
now I see you in a completely different light.’