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Authors: Katie Fforde

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BOOK: Paradise Fields
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‘Not really, Nel,' said Kerry Anne. ‘We're going to need every penny we can get to set it up. I'm going to be investing in Sacha's cosmetics, too.' She curled back
her lips in a sinister gesture, checking for lipstick on her teeth, no doubt. ‘There would be a wall between the spa and the houses, anyway.'

‘Oh.' Nel's brief flash of optimism evaporated.

Kerry Anne looked into the mirror more closely, opened her eyes very wide and examined herself. She didn't make the slightest adjustment. ‘No, I think the plan Chris Mowbray is suggesting will be fine. Either way I guess I'll have to go along with Pierce. It's his money, after all.'

‘If you're married to him, it's half yours,' said Viv. ‘Where did you get married? If it was in California, you're entitled to half of everything he's got if you get divorced.'

‘It was in England. And I'm not planning on getting divorced,' said Kerry Anne.

‘Oh. Good,' said Nel, sounding disturbingly like Joyce Grenfell, trying not to demand what she was doing messing round with another man then. ‘Shall we go in now?'

Nel walked in with her shoulders back, determined she would act with perfect confidence and thus acquire it. She had used all the beauty tips given to her by the woman with white lipstick, and while this could have been a mistake, first Fleur and then Viv had approved of her new look.

Several of the committee were already seated, but there were lots of empty seats. The secretary was obviously expecting several extra people. Nel realised that if Jake wasn't one of them she would be very disappointed. Then she realised this was the emotional equivalent of pressing her nose up against a shop window, yearning for things she couldn't have.

Pierce and Kerry Anne came in together. Nel smiled at Abraham who came in with another, younger man, also wearing a suit, and appearing uncomfortable in it.

Christopher Mowbray, as chairman, came in wearing not only a suit but an air of self-importance that made Nel want to hit him. He nodded to Nel and Viv and smiled in a way that made Nel yearn to see him in the tabloids, involved in a sordid sex scandal. After all, if he did do anything to jeopardise the hospice, he would be a kind of child molester.

The vicar, who Nel always thought of as Father Ted, smiled at everyone, and Muriel, Nel's friend, gave Nel and Viv an approving look, obviously on side and fit for battle, two plastic hips notwithstanding.

A man who was greeted warily by Pierce and more enthusiastically by Chris Mowbray, Nel took to be Gideon Freebody. Abraham nodded towards him; he appeared ambivalent but not aggressive. He had an air of self-assurance Nel hadn't seen in meetings before. It was as if by going back into the building business he was wearing the status and confidence his standing in that world gave him.

Jake was the last to arrive. Nel allowed herself a tiny glimpse of him as he sat down, so he wouldn't see her looking. He was wearing the most heavenly suit. Her heart, or her desire, whichever it was, lurched at the sight of him. She lowered her eyes quickly, and started doodling frantically on the pad in front of her. How was she going to cope? Would she ever get over him if the sight of him made her practically melt? But you won't have to see him after today, she told herself. When you leave the meeting today your paths may never cross
again, especially if you leave the county. Instead of relief, she felt total devastation.

‘Well, ladies and gentlemen,' said the chairman briskly, ‘I know we've all felt a bit like a ship without a rudder, without a director in post, but I think between us we can make these important decisions regarding the future of what is close to all our hearts,' – Nel's own heart contracted at the thought of being close to Chris's – ‘the hospice.'

He paused, looking round for possible applause. There was none forthcoming.

‘You may all be wondering why I've called this meeting to discuss the building on Paradise Fields when really –' he looked round the room and smiled, ‘– we can have no say on the matter. We don't own the fields –' he glared at Nel, Viv and Muriel, who were all sitting together, ‘– and so we just have to accept that our jamborees and boat trips are a thing of the past.'

Abraham and Nel exchanged glances and silently agreed not to say anything just then.

‘Well,' he continued. ‘The reason I've called this meeting is to tell you all about a very exciting proposal planned that would spread further than the fields and would affect us.'

Next to Nel, Muriel squirmed indignantly. Nel put a soothing hand on her arm, to silence her.

‘We've got a lot of ground to cover, a lot of decisions to make, so I suggest that I ask Mr Freebody to give his presentation. I think when you've heard it, you'll agree that his plans are the way forward for the hospice.' He gave Abraham an irritated glare over the top of his reading glasses. ‘Mr Abraham will give a presentation too, naturally, and then it's up to us, as the committee
of the hospice, currently responsible for fiscal matters, to decide our best course. Mr Freebody.'

Mr Freebody wore a navy blue suit, white shirt and scarlet tie. He bulged over his trousers and his hair was black and greasy. He reminded Nel of some comedian or other who, according to the tabloids, had significant success with women. Nel could never understand why. Mr Freebody also had a sort of buoyancy, possibly brought about by his self-inflated image. He was used to winning, and assumed he would this time.

‘My plan is an all-win offer which would not only make Mr Hunstanton here a substantial amount of money, but would also create enough wealth for the hospice for a brand-new, purpose-built hospital which will give youngsters with fatal illnesses every facility. It does entail pulling down the present building, but, I can assure you, it'll be cheaper in the end.'

‘Nonsense!' said Muriel.

‘I doubt that very much,' said Vivian.

‘Don't you want the best for the kiddies? They are dying, you know!'

Everyone who actually worked with the children winced. No one ever referred to the children as having fatal illnesses, they had ‘life-threatening conditions'. And the word ‘hospital' was not popular, either. Muriel drew breath to protest but was silenced by a hand from Father Ted. ‘Let the man speak, Muriel. We might as well know what his plans are.'

‘At the moment,' Gideon Freebody went on, unaware how many people he was offending, ‘the hospice has a constant battle to keep the building in good repair; raising funds, time after time, to replace windows, gutters and now a roof, when these items
will have to be replaced again within a short time.'

‘Not as quickly as they would if you'd built it,' said Muriel. ‘I've been doing some research
on the Net
!' she confided to Nel, quite loudly.

‘Hear, hear,' said Abraham.

‘Please!' said Chris Mowbray. ‘Let Mr Freebody finish! He has a very generous offer to make. Let him make it in peace!'

‘I'm sure it must be wrong that the chairman has already decided in favour, before we've even heard the proposition,' muttered Vivian to Nel. ‘Isn't it against the constitution?'

‘I don't know,' Nel whispered. ‘I haven't ever read the constitution.'

Viv sighed. ‘Nor me.'

They sat back to listen to Gideon Freebody talk about drainage. It was when he got on to access that Nel really concentrated. But try as she might, she couldn't understand him. Then she realised he was deliberately obfuscating; the committee weren't meant to understand.

Nel never had what anyone would call a career. She had had jobs appropriate for an eighteen-year-old, but then she had got married. Since being married for years and becoming a widow she was given more responsibility in the part-time jobs she had had, but setting up the farmers' market was the only remotely businesslike thing she had ever attempted. She was aware she was inexperienced and untrained. She was accustomed to speaking at committee meetings when only the committee members were present, but arguing against hostile witnesses was completely new to her. Yet she couldn't afford to get it wrong. She took notes. She
listened intently, she read the notes of her fellow committee members where she could. It was while she was trying to grasp what Gideon Freebody was saying about profit margins, explaining how the hospice would somehow get far more than the property and the land were worth, that she brought into play her ability to read upside down.

She'd developed this skill when going to parents' evenings. She didn't even know she could do it until she found herself reading what the teacher had really said about her child while listening to how they had translated that for parental consumption. Now, although she was too far away to see everything, she could read where Gideon Freebody had made notes. She hadn't even done it on purpose. She was just looking in his direction, frantically trying to decipher his double-speak, when she noticed his papers in front of him. She was sure she could see figures crossed out and replaced by other figures.

It was so frustrating, not being able to read clearly, and she wondered if they could be what she thought they were. After all, if she could nearly read them from where she was sitting, what was to stop the people sitting nearer reading them? Then she realised; the people sitting nearer probably didn't need to read the figures covertly. They probably knew if they'd been adjusted for the purposes of the meeting, because on one side of Gideon Freebody sat his sidekick, and Chris Mowbray, chairman of the committee, sat on the other.

Judging by the stack of notes in his hand, Gideon Freebody was not going to finish his spiel anytime soon. Nel wrote a quick note to Viv.
I'm going to the loo for
tactical reasons. Make sure you write down anything that's important.

Viv nodded, and Nel got up. As she reached the top of the table, she dropped her handbag. As she scooped up the contents, which were fairly embarrassing, she made sure she had a good look at Gideon Freebody's notes. No one noticed, she was sure. They were all just dismissing her as a daffy female who carried far too much clutter around with her. The chairman was particularly patronising as he handed her a very grubby hairbrush with a dog-chewed handle. Nel smiled sweetly and moved on, but she was pleased to note, as she did so, that Gideon Freebody had responded to her smile. Perhaps the white-lipsticked saleswoman had known her stuff after all.

Nel stayed out of the room for as brief a time as she reasonably could. When she came back in, Gideon Freebody was still intoning about giving the sick kiddies the best chance possible of a bit of decent medical care before they snuffed it. Nel could tell by the expressions on the faces of the really committed hospice people how well this had gone down. They all looked as if they were sucking on lemons.

At last Gideon Freebody drew to a close. Viv wrote a note.
I think he's trying to bore us into submission
.

Nel scribbled:
Did I miss anything vital?

Viv replied:
Don't think so. I was struggling to keep awake
.

‘Well, now, I think that was very interesting,' said the chairman. ‘And obviously it will be easier for the committee to find a new director of the hospice if we have a nice new building. Shall we take a vote?'

Abraham got to his feet. ‘I think maybe our chairman
has forgotten something.' He looked sternly at Chris Mowbray. ‘Gideon Freebody isn't the only builder present. While it might be questioned that this committee has anything to do with what Mr Hunstanton decides to do with his land, the building will affect the hospice and I think the committee has a right to know the full implications of the plans that have already been presented to them.'

Gideon Freebody muttered something to Chris Mowbray and then stood up. ‘Hang on! You can't present your plans to the committee if you're on the committee! It would be an unfair advantage.'

‘I think Mr Mowbray has unintentionally misinformed you, Mr Freebody,' said Abraham calmly, although Nel had suddenly found herself panicking. ‘I resigned from the committee the instant the building issue came up. I did it in writing and by telephone.'

Chris Mowbray looked down at the papers in front of him, coughed and said, ‘Do carry on, Mr Abraham.'

‘Well,' Abraham cleared his throat. ‘I'll not be as long in the process of telling you all about my plans as my friend here. I might add that he builds houses quicker than he talks about them, but I won't—'

He held up his hand to stem the murmur of protest which arose from the Gideon Freebody camp. ‘I've a bit to say about the plans I have devised with the help of an architect, who, sadly, couldn't be here today.'

The chairman looked at his watch. Abraham began. ‘The plans don't affect the hospice much—'

‘Apart from taking away our playing fields and preventing us getting access to the river!' said Muriel indignantly, forgetting that Abraham was now a good guy.

‘Very well, I'll rephrase that. Our plans don't affect the hospice as much as Mr Freebody's do. The hospice building is
not
affected, but, as I said at the outset, I'll put a new roof on the building for the cost of the materials. I was also persuaded by Nel . . .' Here he paused. ‘She is a very persuasive young lady.' Nel blushed and looked down, aware that Jake's eyes were on her. ‘Persuaded to rejig the plans somewhat, so there is still access to the river. With no reduction in the amount of houses which can be built.'

‘Are you running a business or a charitable institution?' asked Gideon Freebody. ‘Mr Hunstanton stands to make much more money with my scheme. And there's more affordable housing in my plan than there is in yours!'

The vicar, sensing there was something more between the two builders than straight competition, stood up, giving them both disapproving looks. ‘Gentlemen! I'm sure you don't want this to become personal. It is for us as a committee to decide if we want to sell our building and build another one in its place. Not to hear about the money-making potential of the two schemes.'

BOOK: Paradise Fields
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