A French Affair (23 page)

‘The thing is,’ Egan went on, ‘you know Carmella wants this place? It would be so perfect for her shop.’

Her stomach clenched in protest at the thought of
beautiful, pampered Carmella having something just because she wanted it. ‘It’s pretty good for antiques, too.’

‘Yes, but the antiques aren’t paying the bills, are they?’

‘What makes you say that?’ Gina felt the antiques would pay the bills just fine if Matthew’s ex-wife weren’t bleeding the centre dry.

‘Carmella and Yvette go way back. She’d really like Carmella to have the house.’

‘It’s not hers to dispose of though, is it?’ Gina felt she should avoid being hostile for all sorts of tactical reasons but knew she wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long.

‘You know as well as I do that Yvette is entitled to half the house.’

‘Really?’ It was her turn to sound incredulous, even if she did partly believe him. She now knew Matthew was paying her a certain amount a month and had hinted that she was very demanding but would she really be legally entitled to half the house? Perfectly possible, she thought, if she’d sent a valuer round.

‘OK then, half the value of the house. You know what divorces are like and Yvette has a very good lawyer.’

Gina shrugged. ‘It’s nothing to do with me.’ She wished Oscar would be a bit more proactive. It would be very satisfying if he would bark or growl or do something to get Egan out of the centre feeling thoroughly intimidated, but he was fast asleep in Jenny’s room.

‘I’m sure it’s more to do with you than you like to pretend.’

‘You think what you like, Egan. Now, what about that cheque?’

‘Ah, yes, well, I seem to have forgotten my cheque book.’ So it had been just a ruse to see what he could find
out. ‘If you give me your bank details I’ll pay it directly into your account.’

For some reason Gina didn’t like the thought of Egan having her account details. ‘I’d prefer a cheque, actually.’

‘You always were old school, Gina.’

‘Old school enough to think people should pay their debts.’

‘All right, all right. I’m on it. You’ll get your money.’

‘Good.’ He seemed to expect her to be grateful to get her own money back but she wasn’t going to oblige him.

‘So, what will you do when this place packs up?’ he went on.

‘I don’t think it will pack up. Why are you so sure?’

‘Because Yvette wants her money and Carmella is keen to buy.’

‘How much is Carmella hoping to pay?’ It was a blunt question but Gina had done with tact now.

He named a figure so low that even Gina, who wasn’t up on current property prices, realised it was ridiculous. ‘Why on earth do you think Matthew might sell for that price? It’s ridiculous.’ She didn’t think Yvette would be happy with that price either.

Egan gave a sneer combined with a shrug that made her want to throw something at him: it was smug, superior and patronising, all in one easy facial expression. ‘Who else is going to buy it in this market?’

‘At that price anyone would. If Matthew wanted to sell he’d just put it on the market. He’d get more than that.’

‘Wake up and smell the coffee, sweetheart.’ He waggled his now-empty coffee cup at her. ‘It’s going to be a private deal. Yvette will name her price and Carmella will offer it. Matthew will have to just accept it.’

Gina got up from her chair. She’d had enough. ‘I really don’t see why. If he’s prepared to sell it for so little he could sell it to anyone – for more probably.

Egan stood up too. ‘He’s got to sell immediately. Yvette’s waited for quite a while already and he’s not going to find another buyer – cash buyer’ – he paused for emphasis – ‘as quickly.’

Being in PR meant you had to be able to act. She put on her very best sceptical smile. ‘Oh really?’ She imitated the upward inflection that he had used earlier, implying that everything he said was complete rubbish. She sounded convincing but inside she was desperately asking herself if all this could be true.

‘Yes, really. And you could make things easier for everyone, including Matthew.’

‘How, exactly?’

Egan came up behind her, put his arm round her shoulders and squeezed her to him. ‘By being nice to me. I have influence over Carmella.’

Gina was too stunned to react but when he rubbed her cheek with his chin and went to kiss her, she recovered herself.

‘Get off, Egan! What are you doing?’

Egan stepped back a little, looking incredulous. ‘I’m being nice! You used to like it when I kissed your neck.’ He moved towards her again, his intent obvious.

She stepped sharply out of the way, shuddering. ‘Well, I don’t like it now.’

‘What? Not even when Matthew does it?’ He grabbed her.

Gina lost it. She was tired of this. She pushed at him to get him away. ‘I said, get off, Egan! And get out!’

Her anger seemed to excite him. ‘I don’t think you really mean that. You loved me. I haven’t forgotten how wild you could be in bed.’

Gina felt physically sick. She felt ashamed to think she had once loved this revolting specimen and had had sex with him. And why hadn’t she asked Bill – or even Tiggy – to stay a little longer? Egan would never have dared to make a pass if they’d been there or she could have at least called out for help. She covered her face with her hands to blot him out.

He seemed to think this was an invitation; he put his arms round her and started to kiss her. She pulled away but he pressed on, as if trying to suffocate her into submission. She struggled but he was a lot bigger and stronger than she was. ‘Come on now, you know you’re enjoying this really,’ he said when he stopped to draw breath.

She kicked out at his shins but his wide stance meant she didn’t make contact. He had moved from her mouth to her neck now, burrowing down between her shirt and her skin, working his way down to her breast with his mouth and tongue.

‘Get off!’ she said, panting with the effort to free herself.

And suddenly he was off and sitting on the floor looking as if he didn’t know how he’d got there. Matthew stood over him. ‘I think Gina’s made her wishes clear,’ he said.

Oscar, who’d managed to sleep through Gina’s struggles, heard Matthew’s voice and appeared like a giant in the doorway. He gave one, deep low bark, jumped up and put his paws on Matthew’s shoulders.

‘Bloody hell!’ said Egan. ‘What the fuck is that?’

Matthew pushed Oscar down and turned to Egan who
had now got to his feet. ‘That’s my dog. And now I think you should leave.’

Matthew, Gina and Oscar all watched as Egan got to his feet, never taking his eyes off Oscar. Matthew opened the door for him and gave him a little push to hurry him through it. Then he turned to Gina. ‘Are you all right?’

Gina found she was weak-kneed and feeling sick. ‘No, I don’t think I am!’ and she stumbled into his arms.

He held her much more tightly than Egan had only this time being nearly suffocated by a man seemed like a lovely way to go. She felt safe at last.

She clung to him as if they’d been parted for years. When she broke away Matthew said, ‘What did that bastard do to you? You’re shaking! He didn’t—’

‘No – no, nothing dreadful,’ she whispered, and let go of his jumper which she hadn’t been aware of clutching.

‘So why are you so upset? Shall we go upstairs where we can talk?’

‘The centre—’

‘Bugger the centre,’ he said, ‘I’ve got a bottle of brandy in my bag. I’ll open it.’ He turned the sign round, clicked the lock, picked up his bags and, motioning for Gina to go first, they went upstairs.

She curled up on the sofa with her feet under her. She was holding a glass with a very large amount of brandy in it. As well as the brandy, Matthew produced a broken baguette and some very ripe cheese. ‘I don’t know about you but I’m starving. Food might help?’ He looked at her anxiously before going back into the kitchen for plates and knives.

It seemed to take forever before Matthew sat down next to her. He spread cheese on a piece of bread and added
more brandy to her glass. He handed her the plate. Oscar stretched himself out at their feet with a contented sigh.

‘So, what happened?’ he asked. ‘You were really upset. I need to know what he did to you. If I’m going to kill him, I need to know exactly why.’

She chuckled as the horror of Egan’s mauling waned and she began to relax. ‘Actually it wasn’t what he did that upset me. I could have handled that. It was what he said before – and Carmella. They implied that Yvette could just sell the centre – to them – for a ridiculously low price, and you couldn’t do anything about it.’

He peered into his brandy for a few seconds before answering. ‘Ah.’

‘Does that mean they’re right? She can sell it over your head?’

‘I think she would if she could and she probably can.’

This was more upsetting than anything that had happened before. ‘Really? That’s awful.’ To think that Egan had been right made it all worse, somehow.

‘She’s waited quite a long time for her money. She said as much when I saw her. I was hoping to reason with her . . .’ He paused. ‘She could probably find a court who would say it was time I finally paid up the last chunk.’ He drained his glass and then smiled. ‘I might have to sell the house, but I’m darned if I’ll let it go to that bloody woman for half nothing.’

Despite his bravado he looked so sad, it made her heart turn over. She yearned to comfort him – it must be awful to have such a harridan of an ex-wife. And she couldn’t bear to think that all her hard work to make the centre more profitable had been a waste of time.

He was looking at her intently and Gina found she
couldn’t meet his gaze. She wasn’t sure she could conceal how she felt about him. She’d suddenly realised that what she felt for him wasn’t just a crush. It was much, much more than that. You didn’t pine for someone you simply had a crush on; you didn’t want to protect them, to save them from marauding gift-shop owners and grasping exes. She’d fallen in love with him.

But she didn’t know how he felt about her. He’d been wonderfully protective when he’d rescued her from Egan, but he might have been like that with any woman in that situation. She just didn’t know and unless he told her, she couldn’t find out.

He didn’t speak for what seemed like hours. Gina heard the clock in the background. Then he said, ‘How would you like to come to France with me?’

This seemed like a complete change of subject but she went with it. ‘One day, I’d love it. Why do you ask?’

‘Because I need to go back and I’d like to take you with me this time. I think you’re ready. I took a quick look at the ledger and Tiggy told me you’d been brilliant.’

She laughed. ‘You were checking up on me!’ So he’d phoned one of the others, but not her. But never mind, he thought she was doing well. ‘Why do you need to go back so soon?’ she asked. ‘You’ve only just got home. And what about Oscar? The centre?’

‘It does sound crazy,’ he said, ‘but it’s not unheard of. The reason I have to go back is I left some pieces being restored. They’re for Nicholas so I want him to have them quickly. He’ll pay me for them for one thing. And Jenny phoned me. She’s sorted out her relations and is desperate to get back here.’

Hope flickered like a just-lit tea light, tiny yet optimistic.
‘Getting back to normal is one thing but will she want to take on Oscar and the centre?’

‘Oh yes, I asked her.’

‘You
asked
her?’Another person he’d been in touch with when he hadn’t even sent her a text.

‘Yes. I knew I had to go back for the pieces and couldn’t have asked you to go on looking after things here.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I didn’t tell her I was planning to take you to France with me, although I was.’

‘Oh.’

‘Gina,’ he began but then stopped, gazing at her. She hardly dare breathe as his look intensified. She kept very, very still, not taking her eyes from his. They were so close, facing each other on the sofa. He leant in and gently kissed her. She closed her eyes as the kiss deepened. He pulled gently away, cupping her face with his hand. ‘Oh, Gina. I can’t tell you how long I’ve been wanting to do that.’

‘Why didn’t you?’ said Gina, with a sigh.

‘I . . .’ He raked his hands through his hair. ‘I’ve been so preoccupied with the centre and keeping Yvette off my back. And I wasn’t sure . . . I mean at Christmas I thought, but then Sephie had her accident . . .’

‘I know, but . . .’ She hesitated. She had been about to say that there had been plenty – well not plenty, but a handful at least – of moments since then when he could have swept her into his arms. She had been more than ready and willing. Although she was an independent, modern woman, she was romantic enough to want the man to make the first move. But she might have nudged him along earlier if she’d known how he felt. Once more she vowed she’d never play poker with him. And perhaps her pride had got in the way, making her keep things light
between them so he wouldn’t see how she felt and giving him the impression she liked him only as a friend. What fools they’d both been.

He kissed her again, for a very long time, then he pulled her up from the sofa. ‘Come on,’ he said and led her to the bedroom.

Sally was beside herself when she called the next day. Gina felt she had to tell her sister about going to France, although she didn’t go into too much detail about what had happened after Matthew’s invitation. She’d mentioned kissing but nothing else, not the fact that she’d spent a wonderful couple of hours with him before he’d reluctantly put her into a taxi – at her insistence. Staying the night would involve too much embarrassment the next day. She didn’t feel she could let the other dealers know about it at the moment.

‘Back up, back up,’ Sally said. ‘I thought you weren’t keen on a relationship – you sly thing! You did all that without my help! I’d better get on with ordering Sephie and Ariadne’s bridesmaids’ dresses . . .’ She sighed as the romance of it all took her over, then went on, ‘I knew it, I was only saying to Alaric. I knew you were getting on well, but you kept telling me you were just friends. Honestly, Gina! I can’t wait to tell Mum.’

‘You won’t tell the other dealers,’ said Gina, ‘will you?’