The Antique Love (16 page)

It was just that when he thought of a life without her, somehow the future seemed to stretch into infinity, dull as ditch water.

* * * *

It was fortunate for Penny that for the next few days she had little opportunity to let her mind dwell on Kurt. Work was busy. Occasionally she would allow her thoughts to wander, and she would recall the time Kurt had brought her the tulips and he had kissed her cheek. She found it hard not to dwell on this memory, reliving the warmth of his kiss. She would find herself replaying the scene in her head, each time having it end with his lips on hers. When she was at work, it was easy to bring herself back to reality. The scene would finish there in her mind, and she could force herself back to her surroundings. At home in the silence of her bedroom, it was a different story. A different scene altogether. The kiss was just the beginning of a fantasy which was full of such erotic longing Penny would find herself burning and sleepless, rising the next day sure she could never meet Kurt’s eyes in real life ever again.

It was lucky they would only need to meet a handful more times before the house was finished. Maybe even just one more meeting—she could show him the final stage and leave it at that. The thought should have made her happy, but instead, she was appearing at work looking increasingly tired and drained.

“Hey, did you see the local news last night?” Tehmeena called to her excitedly one morning. Penny had barely opened the shop door. The fine spring had been short-lived, and she was removing her wet coat and trying to shake her umbrella without splashing too much water around.

“No,” she called back a little grumpily, throwing her coat over a hook. “Granddad wanted to watch golf all evening.”

“Shame. It was on at six. Why don’t you catch up on the internet now? I doubt we’ll get many customers this morning. Not in this downpour.”

“Catch up with what? What’s good in the local area—more shop-lifting and arson?” Penny dumped her bag down beside her desk and switched on her laptop. It wasn’t like her to be crotchety, but the past few days, she’d been far from her usual cheerful self.

Tehmeena pursed her lips. “It’s not all doom and gloom around here, you know.” She turned back to the open china cabinet, which she’d been in the process of dusting. “Take a look on the net and see for yourself,” she called over her shoulder. “Some people perform acts of charity.”

Penny logged onto the news channel without much enthusiasm, flicking through for the previous evening’s local report. She found the relevant item, clicked play, and immediately, the usual impossibly coiffed newsreader came into view. For ten minutes, Penny listened to her talk about how teenagers had burned a whole warehouse down, her teeth showing in a relentlessly cheerful smile the whole time. There followed an intense debate around the news table as members of the local community discussed opportunities for teenagers in the area and how to combat the rise of mindless crime.

Penny was just about to call over to Tehmeena that actually it
was
all doom and gloom when the newsreader turned to the camera. “Well, if you think the rise in teenage crime heralds an era of doom and gloom, think again. An American finance worker is sponsoring a scheme to bring something different to the kids in the inner city. Take a look at this.”

Penny’s jaw dropped. The screen filled with a shot of Richmond Park, the camera panning slowly past trees coming into leaf and deer in the distance before coming to rest on a group of horses trotting across the grasslands. In the middle of the group, and looking magnificent astride a gigantic white horse, was the unmistakeable figure of Kurt. Even from a distance and with a smart riding helmet covering his dark blonde head, Penny would have known him anywhere. She leaned forward and stared at the screen, open-mouthed.

The shot of trotting horses was cut away to be replaced by a group of teenagers dismounting awkwardly in a stable yard. Penny wasn’t surprised to see Cass was also one of the riders. The woman dismounted in a swift, stylish movement, giving the camera a glamorous smile before turning away to help one of the kids. Over the scene, the newsreader described how Kurt, together with the stables in Richmond, had put together a programme to help disadvantaged city children by offering riding lessons and introducing them to the abundant wildlife in the park. Next thing, Kurt’s head filled the screen, and he was giving that slow, courteous nod. He appeared to be looking right into Penny’s eyes, and her heart turned over with a thump.

“I’m lucky to have this wonderful park on my doorstep, and I wanted to share my good fortune with kids who don’t get the same sense of space. Being boxed in is bad for the spirit.”

The camera panned back to reveal Cass standing by his side, looking up at him adoringly. They made a striking couple. The interviewer asked a few more questions which Cass and Kurt took turns in answering, and then the film finished to cut back to the studio.

Penny sank back in her chair. So this was the charitable project Kurt had been working on. How like him to carry out his plans in such a quiet way. He was quiet and reserved and would never dream of bragging. He would never dream of bigging himself up about anything. Just like when they first met and she’d thought he was a simple cowboy when all along he was head of a massive company.

She rubbed her fingers across her forehead. Kurt also hadn’t mentioned just how involved he was with Cass. Maybe because their relationship just wasn’t that important…or maybe because he was hoping they’d become much closer. She reached forward and closed the lid of her laptop with a sigh. Whatever, it was none of her business. And if he didn’t date Cass, he’d only be dating someone else anyway, so there was no point thinking about it.

She looked up to find several customers had entered the shop whilst she’d been engrossed in the news. She stood up quickly, but before taking up her position behind the counter, she went over to where Tehmeena was relocking the china cabinet.

“Thanks for telling me,” she said. “It was great to see. And you’re right—it’s not all doom and gloom.”

Although if it wasn’t all doom and gloom, why did she feel so utterly miserable?

Penny perched on a stool in Kurt’s bedroom and lifted the final painting to the wall, arching her back precariously to check everything was straight. She’d given the decorators their instructions, and the room was finally painted. She was now alone, putting in the last touches. The furniture and furnishings in the rest of the rooms were complete, and the whole house breathed with new life. For once Penny allowed herself a glow of satisfaction. Kurt was sure to be happy.

Happy with everything—except maybe this room. She stepped down from the chair and stood back, casting a doubtful glance around the set of paintings. What if she were wrong? What if everything she’d done in here was totally over the top and he hated it? She chewed her lip in a state of anxiety. He’d asked for something neutral, for goodness sake, not this explosion of passion. She twisted her head to examine the paintings again before giving a resigned shrug. It was too late, anyway. If Kurt didn’t like it, he could always rip out the whole bedroom after she’d gone and paint it magnolia. She would never know, in any case, because once she’d given back her set of keys, they would no longer be in contact.

She took a last fatalistic look round and was just putting on her jacket to leave when her mobile rang, making her jump in the quiet of the house.

“Hey,” Kurt said.

“Hey. I saw you on television. What a surprise. Nice work. You looked good.”

You looked good
. Penny rolled her eyes at herself.

“Thanks. Although to be honest, Cass did most of the work—I just showed up and rode a horse.”

Penny laughed as she shrugged on her jacket. “According to the news, you did a good job persuading the stables to work with you, and you raised all the money. That can’t have been easy.”

“Yeah, I guess the finance side hasn’t been easy. Actually, that’s why I’m calling. Or partly.”

“Oh?”

“Thing is, Cass organised a charity auction to try and raise money—”

“Oh,” Penny said again. “Are you looking for donations?” She began a rapid mental review of suitable items from the shop’s stock, which Kurt interrupted quickly.

“Yeah, a donation would be great. But actually, it’s not that, it’s something else. Thing is, the event is a ball as well as an auction.”

There was a short pause. It was unlike Kurt not to come to the point directly. Penny sensed the hesitation in his voice and waited. He drew in a breath and the rest of his words came out in an uncharacteristic rush.

“I was wondering if you’d come with me?”

She almost gasped aloud. “Me? I mean, what about Cass? “

“Well, that’s the thing. Cass and I were supposed to go together, but she’s ill. Of course Cass being involved in the project, and all, it made sense for us to go together. But now she can’t make it.”

“I see.” Penny halted. So, she was second choice. She understood Kurt’s embarrassment, asking her to fill in like this, but nobody liked feeling second-best. She tried not to let a wave of disappointment wash over her.

Kurt broke the uncomfortable silence. “I understand how this seems, asking you at the last minute and all, but I’d love it if you said yes.” His urging was laced with uncharacteristic uncertainty. “I’d rather go with you than anyone else.”

There was a silence. Penny took in a breath, but before she could answer, Kurt added, “And it’s for charity.”

She gave a short, defeated laugh. “Oh well, if you put it like that. Where and when? And most important, what do I wear?”

Penny could almost hear him leap up with relief. “Seven p.m. next Saturday, Park Lane,” he said, an injection of cheerfulness in his voice. “You got a ball gown?”

“More than most people ever dream of,” she said drily, thinking of her mother’s collection. “I’ll look one out.”

“It’s great you’re willing to do this for me.” His voice dropped. “Now I’m looking forward to it.”

“No problem.” Penny was proud of the cool way she handled his request. She was especially proud of remaining cool in a bedroom that was the absolute opposite of cool. It was hard to look at the decor and not feel her skin burn. The whole room radiated heat.

“And Kurt?” she added tentatively. “Your house is just about ready. Maybe you could come over on Sunday? After the ball?”

“Sure. Can’t wait. Thanks, Penny, you’re awesome, kid.”

Penny ended the call and stuffed her phone in her jacket pocket.
Awesome, kid
. Fabulous. The kid sister, wheeled in in second place behind the glamorous girlfriend. She put her hand on the door handle and turned to take a final look around the bedroom. After Kurt moved in, it would be the last she’d ever see of it.

She stepped over to straighten the painting on the wall one last time before leaving the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

* * * *

Choosing something to wear for her regular night out with the girls often caused Penny a headache. She would go through her entire wardrobe, flinging clothes on the bed at random, only to discover she had absolutely nothing to wear. For most people, trying to find an evening dress for an exclusive ball at one of London’s top hotels would present an even greater problem but not for Penny. She went straight to the trunk which had belonged to her mother and opened the lid. Everything inside was neatly packed away in tissue paper—literally dozens of dresses which her mother had worn on red carpets around the world. Penny’s grandmother had refused to dispose of the ball gowns, insisting that when Penny grew up she would want to wear them herself. By the time Penny was a teenager, however, it was perfectly obvious she was never going to step into her mother’s glamorous shoes and become another Megan Rose. Her grandmother had struggled for the rest of her life to conceal her disappointment.

Penny knelt down and lifted the top layer of tissue paper from the trunk. A couple of loose sequins slid to the floor. She picked them up, feeling the metal, cold and hard, in her palm, and for a minute or two, she froze on her knees, staring down into the trunk.

What
, she asked herself,
do you think you are doing, going to this ball, all glammed up?
A ridiculous Cinderella.
The dripping well of misery within her finally overflowed. A tread on the landing warned her when her granddad entered the room. Too overcome to turn, she bent her head over the trunk. Her grandfather paused in the doorway and then took a few slow steps across the room. She heard him crouch awkwardly beside her, and then he took her hand in his. Instantly, a sob burst from her.

“Granddad, I’m
sick
of feeling second-best.” She knew she sounded self-pitying, but despair overwhelmed her, and she was past caring. The words caught painfully in her throat. “I’ve tried and tried to feel beautiful and glamorous like Mum, but everything in my life is always grey and miserable.”

Her grandfather reached over without speaking and pulled her to him. The rub of his sweater was comforting beneath her wet cheeks. Her shoulders heaved once or twice as he patted her awkwardly. After a while, he cleared his throat, the frail hands tightening their grip.

“Penny, listen to me,” he said, a catch in his voice. “Everyone loved your mother; it’s true. But they loved a mirage. She was a dream, an image on screen. The only people who really loved her—and I mean truly loved the person she was, faults and all—were your dad and your grandmother. And me. Your mother wasn’t perfect. If you’d had a chance to get to know her, you’d realise that.” He pushed his granddaughter gently away and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, pressing it into her hand. “Here, take this.” She blew her nose noisily. When she’d composed herself a little, he sank back stiffly on his heels and took hold of her hand.

“I’ve told you before, Penny. You’re not second-best. You’re not second-best to me, and one day you’ll find the man who makes you feel loved the way you should be.”