Second Time Around (31 page)

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Authors: Marcia Willett

BOOK: Second Time Around
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‘Perfectly sure.' Nicola stared disbelievingly as Bea laid her hand
upon Will's and their fingers intertwined. ‘We must go. So nice to see you, Bea. Come on, Tony. We shall be late.'
Tony looked down at Bea with a little smile as Nicola turned away. ‘I have a feeling,' he said softly, ‘that I underestimated you. What a pity.'
Bea raised her cup to him. ‘Good luck,' she said. ‘Don't forget to give our love to Marian. Off you go. Nicola's waiting.'
When they'd gone she sat back in her seat with a gasp of relief. Presently she began to laugh. Will's coffee arrived and he began to pour, smiling at Bea's reaction.
‘We shall have to be careful,' he said. ‘Who knows who else may pop out of the woodwork?'
‘She'll go rushing back to Marian with the news,' said Bea with enormous satisfaction. ‘Her eyes were like organ stops. Talk about Lady Chatterley!'
They laughed immoderately and drank their coffee companionably, temporarily forgetting about Isobel and her meeting with Helen at the cove. It was pleasant to be at leisure together and presently they fastened Sidney's lead to his collar and wandered out into the town. The weather was brighter and they pottered slowly. Since Isobel had asked them to give her plenty of time with Helen they had the whole day before them. Bea, delighted with her routing of Nicola, took Will's arm.
‘Just in case,' she told him demurely, ‘they're still about.'
‘Quite right,' he said, giving it a squeeze. ‘And if I see them approaching we'll go into a clinch and pray that Sidney can cope with a sudden display of unbridled passion.'
‘I wish I'd thought of that,' said Bea wistfully. ‘That would have really given them something to think about.'
‘There's still time,' said Will cheerfully. ‘They're staying at the hotel. We'll go back for lunch and give 'em a treat.'
Chuckling together, arms linked, they strolled across the road and disappeared into the market.
 
 
SEBASTIAN PUT DOWN THE telephone receiver, glanced at his watch and shrugged at his oppo, Rob Walters.
‘She's not there,' he said. ‘I've left a message on the ansaphone.'
‘So you'll come anyway?'
Sebastian nodded. ‘Why not? She's probably only walking the dog. It's a pity to waste time and if you really don't mind me coming on with you if she's not there … ?'
‘Not a bit. Barbara will be pleased to see you again. She was rather miffed that as soon as we bought a house down here I got posted to Pompey. She's settling in but she'll be pleased to see a friendly face. She's thrilled that we've got more problems and the ship'll be stuck alongside for a day or two. Let's get going then.'
‘You can spare a minute to see Tessa, I hope,' said Sebastian, as they went down the gangplank together. ‘Seeing that you're going to be best man.'
‘Can't wait to meet her again,' said Rob, feeling for the car keys. ‘We must all get together while the ship's in.'
‘Good idea,' said Sebastian—but he sighed as he waited for Rob to unlock the door. He was determined to be positive but it was not quite as easy as he'd hoped.
 
ADRIAN PEARSON DROVE SLOWLY past the church looking for the house which Tessa had described to him. He had been wary when he'd first heard her voice on his mobile. How was she going to react
to his visits to the cove? His second visit had been unproductive. The old boy had checked the figures over again and indicated the one or two pieces he might be prepared to sell. One of these was an elegant, if simple, Regency writing table and, although the sabre legs had been repaired with brackets and the leather top was scored and marked, it would easily bring five and a half thousand pounds. The old buffer had been delighted at an offer of four hundred pounds for ‘that old table', as the old aunt or whatever-she-was had called it, and had promised a final decision soon.
Adrian, peering through the windscreen, had been quickly reassured by Tessa's call. She had been friendly, apologised for not getting in touch before and explained that she had some rather interesting pieces to show him. He felt the familiar excitement begin to build. Should he, he'd asked, give the owner a bell? Tessa answered that the owner was away but that she, Tessa, had permission to show him a few pieces with a view to selling. Could he come over to Tavistock? she'd asked. He could.
So here he was, turning in through the gate of a Victorian house set well back from the road, and there was Tessa opening the front door. She led him straight through to the kitchen and invited him to sit down while she made coffee. He glanced about him; nothing particularly exciting here but that was often the way. It was surprising how many people had just one or two really valuable things, inherited over the years and regarded with the contempt that familiarity brings. These were the kind of customers he wanted; not those whose homes were stuffed with goodies and who knew their value down to the tiniest silver thimble. He looked at Tessa and smiled to himself. Perhaps he hadn't misjudged her after all. She could lead him to all sorts of treasures but he must make certain that she was on his side.
‘How are things?' he asked, bringing his charm to bear on her. She was not really his type——but business is business. ‘I tracked you down to the cove, you know, but you weren't there. I've been hoping that I would see you again.'
She smiled at him and he realised that there was none of that early caution he remembered. She leaned against the sink and looked at him appraisingly.
‘I've been thinking about you, too,' she said.
Her smile was a peculiarly intimate one and he raised his eyebrows, smiling a little in return. He was surprised—and a faint excitement stirred which had nothing to do with profit-making.
‘I'm flattered,' he said lightly. ‘You shouldn't be so elusive. Those relations of yours are very efficient guard dogs.'
She laughed and shook her head. ‘What a pair of old dinosaurs they are. I inherited the property with them, you know, so we all have to rub along together.'
He grimaced sympathetically. ‘Not too easy, I should think. The old … um, Mr Rainbird seems a nice enough chap but your aunt is a bit fearsome, isn't she?'
‘She's my cousin.' Tessa turned away to make the coffee. ‘She's been a matron in a boys' school all her life.'
‘I should have guessed.'
He studied her, wondering how far this might lead. She was wearing a denim mini-skirt and a T-shirt and, as he watched her moving about; the excitement increased.
‘So.' She turned round so suddenly that she caught his eyes on her legs and once again she smiled that intimate knowing smile. ‘Making a valuation?' she asked provocatively.
He burst out laughing, throwing his hands up to signify that she'd scored a hit. ‘I admit it. Should I apologise?'
She shrugged, pushing his coffee towards him. ‘That depends on the valuation.'
‘Out of my league.' He pretended despondency. ‘I've known it all along really.' He sighed. ‘But you can't blame me for trying.'
‘Oh, I don't.' She leaned her elbows on the table, mug in her hands and stared at him. ‘I'm wondering how truthful I can be with you.'
He pulled down the corners of his mouth. ‘That sounds very
serious. Totally, I hope.' He conjured up the sympathetic interest he reserved for the Mrs Carringtons. ‘Got a problem?'
‘Uh-huh.' She nodded. ‘Between you and me—and not a word to my old dinosaurs—I have quite a serious financial problem. I … Well, the truth is, I was led to believe that the house in the cove was going to be left entirely to me and I borrowed against my expectations. I won't go into why, for the moment, but you can imagine my horror when the two old fossils turned up on the doorstep.'
‘Sure.' He watched her, fascinated. ‘So …' He hesitated. ‘So how can I help?'
‘Do you want to help?'
‘Certainly,' he said swiftly. His heart knocked against his breast. ‘Do you have any suggestions?'
‘It's already occurred to you that I go to many places where there are odd items of furniture that are up for grabs. You offered me commission … ?'
‘Certainly,' he said again. ‘That would be only right and proper. But I thought that you were rather upset the last time I mentioned it.'
‘I wasn't on the ball that day,' she admitted. ‘I'd just got engaged and it seemed that my problems were over. Well.' She shrugged. ‘He's changed his mind.'
‘Must be mad,' said Adrian softly. He let her see how much she attracted him. ‘Not looking for a replacement, are you?'
‘Why not?' The old provocative look was back. ‘I'm a firm believer in mixing business with pleasure.'
He laughed. ‘I should like to apply for the post. Where do we start?'
‘I'm afraid,' she said, ‘that we start with the business. This commission …'
‘Well.' He thought quickly about the least he could afford commensurate with keeping her on the hook. ‘Shall we say a percentage of the profit? Ten percent?'
‘You mean the real profit?'
He stared at her. ‘Well, of course.'
‘You see,' said Tessa, smiling, ‘I could sell those pieces at the cove myself, couldn't I? I have to be sure that it's going to be worth going in with you, don't I? If I sell the things at the cove I have to split three ways. Of course, they trust me …'
‘I'm not quite with you.' He frowned a little. ‘I can understand that you may want to dispense with me as middle man but you'd have to get rid of the pieces somehow.' He hid his panic at the thought of losing the profit. ‘You see what I'm getting at? Whoever sells it for you will have to take a cut.'
‘True.' She nodded. ‘But then
they
might offer us the real value.'
Her eyes smiled coolly into his and he felt a lurching sensation in his stomach. ‘I don't … quite understand.'
‘Don't you?' Her eyebrows lifted. ‘Let me be clearer. I could sell those pieces at the cove without telling the old ducks their real value. I could give them a bit but they won't have any idea of the profit I should make. But that cuts you out and if we're going to be partners I'd want to start fair.'
He decided to bluff it out. ‘I'm still not with you.'
‘Pity.' She pushed her mug aside and stretched back in her chair. ‘I really thought you might be up to playing it straight for a moment. You see I'm not just thinking short term. I know a lot of people we could … help.'
Adrian was silent. If only he could be certain that she really knew the truth; if he could trust her. The golden eyes watched him coldly; presently she began to chuckle.
‘You've disappointed me,' she said. ‘I thought you were in a different class.'
For some reason this stung him. ‘I'm not saying I'm not prepared to deal,' he said slowly, ‘but it's a big step.'
‘It certainly is.' She was still smiling. ‘Who wants to share a profit of five thousand pounds?'
‘Five thousand … ?'
She pursed her lips. ‘Give or take. Isn't that what you stand to make on the Regency writing table you've offered my cousin four hundred pounds for? And that nice eighteenth-century stick-back armchair? Fifty quid, was it?' She was laughing openly now. ‘How much did you get for Mrs Carrington's bureau? And that little Georgian chest? Come on.' She leaned across the table and touched his hand. ‘I know lots of Mrs Carringtons. You should see the Queen Anne walnut tallboy upstairs. Don't look so worried. I shan't be greedy. After all,
you
have to get rid of the stuff.'
He was still too badly shaken to respond easily and she squeezed his hand encouragingly. ‘I … may have misjudged a few items,' he began.
‘Oh, for goodness' sake,' she said impatiently. ‘Look, let's forget it. I'll arrange to get rid of the pieces from home. Now you've so kindly valued them Will and Bea won't expect much. I shall make a good profit and it will go a long way to sorting me out. It just seems a bit short-sighted, that's all, but I don't blame you. And you've got your girl in your London office to square, haven't you? Myra, isn't it?' She shook her head at him. ‘Who else knows that it's a dingy little room, up four flights in a back street? All that knitting she gets through! Is it your baby she's expecting?'
‘OK.' He stood up, frightened but fighting to stay in control. ‘So you've checked it all out, have you?'
She smiled at him. ‘What did you expect? I don't go into things blind. Myra had no idea she was being checked. She thought that I was looking for a friend who was supposedly living in the building. Look,' suddenly she was serious again. ‘Let's just forget it, Adrian. I understand how you feel but I hoped we might be able to get together, in more ways than one.'
He looked down at her and she shrugged and crossed her legs. He began to smile a little, beginning to feel that he might trust her after all.
‘Perhaps,' he said slowly. ‘Perhaps you've got an idea.'
‘Oh, I've got plenty of ideas,' she said suggestively—and hesitated, looking up at him. ‘Is it your baby?' she asked.
The change of tone, some note of—what was it? Could it be jealousy?—gave him a much-needed surge of power. His confidence came back and he grinned at her. ‘Not as far as I'm concerned,' he said. ‘So. Where do we start this new partnership.' His eyes moved over her. ‘What about this tallboy upstairs?'
She laughed at him. ‘First things first. Let's talk about ways and means. I'm not as experienced as you are—' he raised his eyebrows—‘in
antiques.
Tell me how we go about it.'
He perched on the end of the table. ‘You look over the things and get the lie of the land. Go for the oldies. Find out if there's a cash shortage. If there is, you bring me in when you're on your own so that I can have a good scout round. Even with the
Antiques Roadshow
on TV every Sunday it's amazing how gullible people are. I suggest that we use the ploy of the leaflet through the door so that no one suspects the connection. You leave one behind. I can cover my tracks. Not so easy for you. But don't worry. I stay well within the letter of the law.'
She stared thoughtfully at the table. ‘Sounds OK. How do I know you won't cheat on me? I can't check every piece thoroughly.'
‘I won't cheat. Why should I?' He hauled her to her feet. ‘Why should I risk the goose who lays the golden eggs. And talking of lays …'
He bent to kiss her but she held him off. ‘Sure it's not your baby? She spoke of you with great affection.'

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