Nadia Knows Best (18 page)

“I just heard,” bellowed Clare, flinging open the bedroom door and launching herself onto the bed.

“Owww,” Nadia groaned as her legs were pinned to the mattress. They'd better not be bent out of shape for good.

“I just got home and Dad told me. Come on, wake
up
.” Clare prodded her annoyingly in the ribs. “Tell me everything! How can you sleep after something like this?”

Rolling over, Nadia shielded her eyes from the sunlight pouring through the window. “What time is it?”

“Ten o'clock. And according to Miriam, Laurie's going to be here at ten thirty.”

“Why?”

“Apparently you're going shopping with him.”

“Shopping.” This was all far too much, far too soon in the day. “To buy what?”

“What do runaway boyfriends generally buy when they want to win you back? A bloody great engagement ring with a stone the size of a grape.”

“
What?
” Jack-knifing into a sitting position, Nadia experienced early-morning headrush.

Clare flashed a triumphant grin. “Only joking. He's after a house.”

Nadia didn't need Clare to regale her with details of the night she'd spent with Piers—the spark in her eyes and her irritating Tigger-on-springs demeanor were more than enough to let Nadia know it had been fantastic.

But Clare told her anyway, perching on the window seat in the bathroom and shouting above the roar of the shower. Even with her ears full of shampoo suds, Nadia discovered, there was no escaping it.

“…he's so gorgeous… we had such a brilliant time… he's taking me up to Scotland next weekend… I can't wait,” Clare bellowed happily.

Hmm.

“Did you hear all that?” she double-checked when Nadia emerged from the shower, just in case she'd missed a bit.

“Loud and clear.” And bubbly, thought Nadia as she vigorously towel-dried her hair.

“He's really turned over a new leaf.” Clare hugged her knees. “Realized he can't mess me about anymore. I told him, any more bullshit and I'd be off. That brought him to his senses.”

“Well, good.” Life at home was certainly easier when Clare was happy.

“So how did it go with thingy last night? Jay.”

“Not good.” Nadia began rubbing de-frizzing serum into her ringlets. She'd been trying hard not to think about Jay.

“Oh well, never mind. You've got Laurie now.” As far as Clare was concerned, it was as simple as buying a new parakeet when your old one dropped off its perch.

“What if I don't want Laurie now?”

“Are you mad? Why wouldn't you want him? Coming back like this.” Dramatically, Clare spread her arms. “It's just so romantic! Don't you realize how lucky you are? Laurie's giving you a second chance. You'd be mad not to grab it.”

When Laurie arrived twenty minutes later, Clare hurled herself at him like an overexcited puppy.

“Ha!” Triumphantly she pulled away. “I've just kissed someone who's kissed someone who's kissed Johnny Depp.”

“Blimey.” Laurie looked impressed. “Who'd you just kiss?”

“You, you idiot!” Clare punched him on the arm. “You were at the Oscars with that actress who used to go out with him.” Her eyes lit up. “Did you and her… you know,
do
it
?”

“Clare,” Miriam remonstrated mildly.

“What? I like to know these things.”

Grinning, Laurie shook his head. “Our agents set it up. We'd never even met before. I didn't touch her—and I mean literally didn't touch her. Our job was to pose for the press like
this
.” Using Clare to demonstrate, he placed the palm of one hand an inch from the small of her back, tilted his head toward hers and flashed his teeth at an imaginary camera lens. “Her dress was on loan from some wanky designer or other. No physical contact allowed in case I marked it with my nasty sweaty hands.”

“Don't look nasty to me.” Clare beamed. “Actually, I'm quite partial to a bit of sweat. God, I still can't believe you're back. How on earth could you not enjoy being in LA?”

“I had an apartment overlooking the beach,” said Laurie. “That meant when I woke up in the morning I could see the ocean and the water-skiers and the windsurfers and the paragliders.”

Clare rolled her eyes. “Poor you.”

“I also had a clause written into my contract by my agent, forbidding me from taking part in
any
activity that could
possibly
injure or scar me. He put that in after I came off my motorbike,” Laurie explained, “and had to have stitches in my cheek. I messed up an ad campaign doing that. Anyway, so by the time I'd signed the new contract, about the only thing I was allowed to do was peel oranges. It was a joke. I'm telling you, living that lifestyle isn't all it's cracked up to be.”

“But you must have met loads of famous people.” Clare still thought he was barking mad.

“Of course I did. But just because they're famous doesn't make them fun. Besides, I missed Nadia. Well, you already know that.” Laurie paused. “That's why I'm back. Where is she, anyway?”

Nadia, who'd been loitering in the hall, took a deep breath and stepped into the kitchen.

“I'm here.”

***

“Definitely going to have to get a new car.” Laurie swung the steering wheel of his father's Volvo station wagon and turned right into Over Lane. “Now, half a mile down here, and it's on the left. Barrel Cottage.”

Nadia had the bundle of estate agent's details balanced across her knees. It was eleven thirty on Sunday morning. If yesterday had gone ahead according to plan, she might still be lying in Jay's bed now, getting up to goodness knows what.

Well, actually, she had a pretty good idea.

But that wasn't happening. She was here instead with Laurie on the outskirts of Almondsbury, about to check out a property that, if he took a fancy to it, he was threatening to buy, more or less on the spot.

They pulled up outside Barrel Cottage, a long, low, four-bedroom property with diamond-leaded windows, a whitewashed exterior, and—surprise!—oak barrels overflowing with geraniums on either side of the front porch.

“How much?” said Laurie.

Nadia checked the details. “Three hundred thousand.”

“What d'you think?”

“Bit chocolate-boxy.”

“You don't like it?”

“Laurie, what am I doing here?”

“Helping me choose.”

“But you're the one buying the house. You have to decide.”

He winked. “It has to be somewhere you like, though. If we get back together, you'll be living there.”

Oh well, ask a silly question. That was the thing about Laurie, he'd always tell you what was on his mind.

“What are you doing?” Nadia protested as he restarted the engine.

“You're not wild about it.”

“But it might be gorgeous inside!”

With a grin, Laurie switched off the ignition. “OK. Let's go and find out.”

***

“
Ooof
,” Nadia gasped as she lost her footing at the top of the staircase. Next moment she was tumbling down the stairs. “Ouch, bugger, that
hurt
.”

They were looking round the third property of the day, an empty four-story house in Redland whose agent had given them the keys. Laurie, rushing down behind her, said urgently, “Don't move. Lean back against me. Shit, where are we? I can't remember the address.”

Nadia batted the mobile phone out of his hand before he could dial 999. “You big Hollywood Nancy, I don't need an ambulance. I just slipped, that's all.”

“Nothing broken?” Laurie's face was white with concern. “Are you sure?” He was crouching beside her, his crumpled white trousers streaked with dust.

Nadia nodded and slowly flexed her hips. “Jarred my back a bit, but the rest of me's fine.”

“I could have told you that.” Unable to resist the quip, Laurie placed her arm round his shoulders. “Come on then, let's get you up. Lean on me.” Carefully he hauled her upright. “Are you sure you're OK?”

“I'm sure. Don't make a fuss.” Nadia turned her head away; disconcertingly, his face was only inches from hers.

“Was the carpet loose? Is that why you slipped?”

“I slipped because I wasn't looking where I was going.”

Laurie's smile was rueful. “If we were in LA, I'd be calling my lawyer now, telling him to sue the ass off whoever owns this house.”

“Maybe, but it was my fault.”

“You see? That's why I love you.” Laurie cheered up. “Nobody in LA ever admits they might be to blame for anything. So how much does it really hurt?”

Quite a lot, actually. But Nadia determinedly dusted herself down. “I'm fine. You can let go of me now.”

His green eyes fixed on hers, as honest and heart-wrenching as ever. “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you?”

Not fair, not fair. Nadia felt her stomach wrestling itself into knots.

“I didn't kiss you last night,” Laurie murmured. “Did you notice?”

He was so close to her. She concentrated on the barely visible scar on his cheek. Funnily enough, she
had
noticed.

“I wanted to, more than anything,” Laurie went on when she didn't reply. “And I do now.”

OK, this was becoming farcical…

“But I'm not going to,” said Laurie.

Oh.

“Not until you really want me to.”

His breath was warm and sweet. She could feel his heart beating through his thin, slate-gray T-shirt.

Nadia took a step back. Being kissed was one thing; actually admitting you
wanted
to be kissed was quite another.

“We haven't seen the ground floor yet.”

Laurie's mouth twitched. “How did I know you'd say something like that?”

The rooms on the ground floor were huge and airy, helped along by the lack of furniture. Standing at the drawing-room window overlooking the garden, Laurie consulted the battered sheet of details and said lightly, “Eighty-foot garden. Big enough for you?”

“Too big for you,” Nadia retorted, because Laurie was to horticulture what Princess Anne was to pole-dancing. And this house was priced at three seventy-five, for crying out loud. It was a ludicrous amount of money for him to shell out on a whim.

“I like this place,” said Laurie.

“Oh, stop it. Why can't you just rent a flat?”

“Because that would look temporary, and I'm back for good. If buying a house is what it takes to make you believe me, that's what I'll do.”

“But you can't—”

“Nad, don't get your knickers in a twist. Now that I'm back, I may as well have somewhere decent to live.”

“And you can really afford it?”

“I can really afford it.”

Gosh.

“OK.” Nadia gave up.

“And I like this place.”

“Even though it's too big for you.”

“You see? That's
such
a pessimistic outlook. Can't you ever look on the bright side? I mean, picture this garden in five years.” Laurie gestured expansively through the window. “A swing over there, under the apple tree. A slide going down into the paddling pool. One of those baby trampolines, a couple of tricycles…”

“Aren't you a bit old for a tricycle?” said Nadia.

“It could happen. It's what I want to happen. You, me, and a houseful of kids.” Laurie broke into a grin at the look on her face. “OK, three kids. Three's fine, if that's all you want.”

“What are you going to do, now you're back?” Abruptly she changed the subject. “Job-wise, I mean. Would you go back to stockbroking?”

Laurie pulled a face. “Something else, preferably. I hated stockbroking. But I suppose I'd do it again if I had to. Anyway,” he went on carelessly, “I'm not even thinking about that yet. There's money in the bank and I'm taking the rest of the summer off to enjoy myself.”

Nice work if you could get it.

“You must have enjoyed yourself over there too,” said Nadia. Well, the question had been niggling away at her all morning, waiting to be asked. Actually, make that the last fifteen months. “You had girlfriends, didn't you?”

“A couple.” Laurie grew serious. “What are you asking, how many girls I slept with? OK, three. Which is a pretty modest number, especially by LA standards. None for the first five months, by the way. I just wasn't interested. Then I realized I couldn't live like a monk for the rest of my life. But no serious relationships. Just casual flings. How about you?”

“God, hundreds. A different man every night,” said Nadia. Well, she'd almost slept with Stevie Grainger from the garden center after last year's Christmas party. In Santa's grotto, no less. That had to count as point seven five of a conquest, surely? They would definitely have done it if someone hadn't set the fire alarm off.

“Hundreds? Now I'm getting worried. Were any of them as good as me?”

Nadia gave this some thought. “About eighty.”

“Right. And were any of them… you know, serious relationships?”

“Only a couple of dozen.”

“A couple of dozen,” said Laurie. “Well, that's not so bad. That's manageable competition. So I'm still in with a chance, then?”

“Mr. Modest-as-ever,” Nadia observed, pushing her hair back from her face. She really should still be in bed now. Either Jay's or her own, she couldn't decide which.

“Not modest,” said Laurie. “Just optimistic. I have hope. After all”—he flashed his irresistible smile—“you haven't said no yet.”

The patio at Clarence Gardens needed laying, which as far as Nadia was concerned, was both good and bad news.

It was Monday morning, and the opportunity to escape the Laurie Welch Appreciation Society was a welcome one. On the other hand, her back was giving her serious bother. Clattering down a flight of stairs like a wayward pinball, bashing her spinal column against every step, had resulted in pretty spectacular bruising. Even tucking her T-shirt into her jeans had been so painful it had made her yelp. Surveying the stacked up paving stones without enthusiasm, she unscrewed the top of her Evian bottle and took a swig of water. That hurt too.

And there was no sign of Jay, which was a disappointment. Seeing him again, Nadia had felt, would help her with her dilemma. She'd planned to compare her reaction the moment she saw him with her reaction when Laurie had come over to take her house hunting yesterday morning. Rely on her body's instincts to tell her what she needed to know. Except her body was probably going to be too busy going
ooh, ouch
to tell her anything helpful right now.

Oh well, hey ho. On with the job she was being paid to do. Maybe after the first few paving stones her muscles would stop behaving like big crybabies and loosen up.

***

When the side gate clicked open an hour later, Nadia turned—creakily—and felt her heart begin to gather speed. Color rushed to her cheeks and her stomach clenched tighter than a three-year-old clutching a sweet.

“For heaven's sake.” With difficulty, she straightened up and wiped her dusty, perspiring hands on her shorts. “What are you doing here?”

Laurie removed his sunglasses and indicated his crumpled T-shirt and jeans. “I asked Miriam how you were this morning and she said you crawled down to breakfast on all fours.”

“That's not true.” Nadia was indignant; she'd only
wanted
to crawl down to breakfast on all fours.

“Anyway. I thought you might appreciate a hand, and I'm free.” He made free-type motions with his hands. “So here I am, dressed for work and ready to help.”

Laurie's total indifference to clothes and famously casual wardrobe meant it was hard to tell. Today's gardening jeans were indistinguishable from Saturday's just-flown-back-from-LA ones. If he was off to a film premiere, he'd probably choose whichever were cleanest.

“But this is
my
job,” said Nadia.

“I can still help, can't I? You don't have to pay me.”

“I don't think this is a good idea.” The word
help
was insinuating itself lovingly through Nadia's brain. Oh God, but what if Jay turned up?

“Makes sense to me.” Laurie shrugged. “May as well do something useful with these muscles while I've still got them.”

One of the other clauses in his agent's contract, Nadia had learned, was that Laurie had been obliged to spend a minimum of fourteen hours a week working out in a trendy LA gym.

“If you want to be useful,” she said, “you could go to the pharmacy and pick up some Tylenol.”

“Hey, I nearly forgot.” Laurie delved into the front pocket of his bashed-up jeans. “Miriam found this after you'd gone. She thought you might need it.”

He had brought a tube of Deep Heat. Nadia's nose wrinkled at the thought of its powerful smell, but Laurie was already squeezing the cream into his hand and advancing toward her.

“Come on, pull your T-shirt up. It'll help.”

Was he doing this on purpose? Nadia's mouth went dry.

“I'll do it.”

“Don't be a baby. Anyway, you couldn't reach.” Taking hold of her T-shirt, Laurie lifted it to bra level and surveyed her bruised back. He shook his head in sympathy. “OK, don't worry. I'll be gentle.”

That was what Nadia was afraid of.

He was gentle. While she held her breath, closed her eyes, and thought of… well, something else, he carefully smoothed the musty-smelling cream into her skin. Standing there in the sun-drenched garden, Nadia thought how intimate it felt, like being massaged by a lover with baby oil.

“There, all done.” Stepping back, Laurie dropped the T-shirt back into place and re-capped the tube. “Now, what needs doing? Laying the paving stones? I can do that.”

“Tylenol,” Nadia repeated.

“Why don't you go and get the Tylenol? And pick up something for lunch? I'll get on with laying the stones.”

It made sense. The ground was all ready, painstakingly leveled and marked out. Laurie was more than capable of laying the stones; he'd make a good job of it.

But… but…

“Look, forget why I came back,” Laurie said patiently. “Just think of us as friends. If we were friends and I needed help, you'd help me, wouldn't you?”

“Maybe.” Nadia tried to imagine them as just good friends. As they had been once, years ago.

“Right, so that's all we are. And now it's your turn to need help, so stop being so bloody stubborn and let me get on with the job.”

“OK. Thanks.” A thought belatedly struck her. “How did you know where I was working?”

“Miriam told me you were in Clarence Gardens. I looked for the house with the builder's van outside.”

“Right. OK, Tylenol.”

Laurie, already picking up the first paving slab with ridiculous ease, said, “And lunch.”

***

“Who are you?”

Looking up, Laurie saw a young, scruffy lad with sticky-up hair and a smattering of acne.

Not Jay, he cleverly surmised.

“I'm Nadia, the gardener.”

“No you aren't.” The boy paused. “I've seen you somewhere before.”

“I'm Nadia's friend,” Laurie explained. “She's gone to the shops. I'm helping her out.”

“Right.” The boy nodded. “I'm Kevin.”

“Kevin. Hi. Laurie.”

Kevin frowned, the cogs moving slowly. “Where do I know you from? Do you drink at the Prince?”

“Um, no.”

The cogs finally caught and slipped into place. Kevin burst out laughing. “I know what it is! You look just like the bloke in that video they've been showing on MTV. You know… you know…” He rattled his silver identity bracelet at Laurie. “Cassie McKellen's video, the one where she's drowning in the sea and the bloke dives in and saves her… you're the bloody spitting image of him!”

“Am I?” said Laurie.

“Christ, yeah. Brilliant video, that is. Cassie McKellen in a bikini, now she's a bird and a half—ha, wouldn't kick her out of bed, would you?” As he said it he glanced over his shoulder, checking that his dad wasn't within earshot. Cassie McKellen was a serious drug user.

Laurie, who had turned down an offer to climb into bed with her, said, “I should be so lucky.” With a wink he added, “Just as well I prefer brunettes.”

“So you and Nadia…?” Kevin hesitated, unsure how to phrase it. “Sorry, I mean, we didn't even know she had a boyfriend.”

“Oh, I'm not her boyfriend.” Separating the next paving stone from the stack and carrying it easily across to the marked-off patio area, Laurie said, “Not at the moment, anyway.” As he lowered the stone into place and lined it up against its neighbors, he added cheerfully, “But I'm working on it.”

Unlike Kevin, Jay knew at once who the stranger was. For a minute he watched unobserved from the French doors as Laurie Welch got on with the job in hand. Finally, straightening up and pulling his T-shirt over his head, Laurie turned and spotted him.

“Where's Nadia?” said Jay.

“Gone to pick up a few things. She hurt her back yesterday. I'm helping out.” Laurie's voice was friendly, his eyes startlingly green. “If that's OK with you.”

“Fine with me,” Jay lied.

“You're the boss, I take it.”

“That's right.” There was a spade propped up against the wall. Jay wondered if bashing Laurie Welch over the head with it and burying his body in the garden would be an option.

“I'm the ex-boyfriend. Laurie Welch.” Wiping his palms on his jeans, Laurie came over to shake hands.

“So I gathered.”

“Look, I'm really sorry about Saturday. Hope I didn't mess up your night.”

Since there was no polite answer to this, Jay said, “How did Nadia hurt her back?” and immediately regretted it. Did he really want to know?

“We were looking at houses. I took her to see one in Redland and she fell down the stairs. Frightened the life out of me,” Laurie admitted, “but she'll be OK.”

“Right.” Pushing him down a flight of stairs was another possibility, and far less messy than a spade. Jay said, “Which house in Redland?”

“Clarendon Road. Five bedrooms, fantastic garden. It's standing empty.”

“The one on the corner. I know it.” Jay kept up with what was happening on the property market.

“Really?” Laurie's face lit up. “We liked it. Plenty of room for… well, you know. We both know we want kids, so not much point in buying a penthouse flat. So, d'you think it's a good buy?”

“Up to you.” Jay was buggered if he was going to hand out professional advice.

Laurie was enjoying himself hugely; having arrived back in England in the nick of time, he had no doubt at all that Nadia would come round before long. OK, so she had undoubtedly developed a bit of a crush on this boss of hers, but he and Nadia had years of history between them. Laurie was confident that he'd win in the end; he didn't regard Jay Tiernan as a serious threat.

And it was such fun, subtly letting him know that.

“I don't think it's overpriced,” Laurie went on easily. “You know, I was all ready to put in an offer yesterday afternoon. But falling down the stairs might have put Nad off the place.” The gate clicked and Laurie's gaze shifted away from Jay. “Here she is now.”

Jay turned and saw Nadia carrying two Waitrose bags. Laurie, heading over, swiftly relieved her of them.

“I was just telling Jay about your accident yesterday. Did you get the Tylenol?”

“Um, yes.”

“Good. Show him your bruises.”

“There's no need, I'm sure he believes—”

“See?” Before Nadia was able to protest, Laurie had swiveled her round and pulled up her T-shirt. His tanned fingers moved lightly over her back, tracing the outlines of the swollen, purple bruises.

“I'm fine,” Nadia protested, flushing as she covered them once more with her T-shirt.

“Did the Deep Heat help?”

Deep Heat. Jay imagined Laurie massaging the cream into her skin.

“It helped. Look, I need to get the rest of this stuff inside.” Wincing slightly as she reached to retrieve the Waitrose bags, Nadia glanced at Jay. “Could I have a word?”

Jay didn't move. “Fire away.”

She gave him a don't-muck-about look. “In private.”