The Perfect Match (31 page)

‘Oh dear,’ said Bella, for want of something better.

‘Yes! He dashed off in a tearing hurry but it’s all right, I’ve got the Agnews I can ring now if there’s an emergency.’

‘Did he – um – Do you know where he dashed off to?’ Bella asked, trying not to let it show how much she cared.

Her friend shook her head. ‘He didn’t give me any details. Really he was just rescuing his clean washing from the airing cupboard and throwing it into a bag.’

‘And you don’t know why he was going?’

Jane shrugged. ‘Something to do with his work. But he didn’t tell me the details, just that he was in a rush. I didn’t ask as I didn’t think it important I should know.’

‘Of course not. It’s not important that I should know either, but I’m a very nosy and curious person.’ She smiled and got to her feet. ‘Well, now I’ve told you my news, I’ll let you get to bed, or carry on doing what you were doing before I rang.’

She kissed her friend and then walked across the lawn to the drive, hoping Jane wouldn’t wonder why she felt obliged to rush over with the news of her broken engagement. She really didn’t want Dominic to ring his great-aunt and be told ‘Bella was asking where you were’. She personally might have come round to the idea that she was pathetic and needy, but she didn’t want Dominic to know. Although she’d glanced at her phone several times while she was at Jane’s, there’d still been no reply to her text.

Briefly she wondered if he’d managed to find out anything for her regarding Nevil’s dealings. He had mentioned having contacts. But it was unlikely, seeing he was so busy. And if he never got in touch again, well, she’d just have to get over it. She’d done it before, after all. She should be able to do it again. Eventually.

Alice was still up when she got home, and was disconnecting from a phone call that had made one side of her face rather red, which indicated it had not been a short one.

‘That was your mother,’ Alice said. ‘She wanted to hear all about Michael and going to Marrakesh from the horse’s mouth.’

Bella smiled. ‘I knew she’d want to ask you about it. And you are her oldest friend.’

Alice smiled, obviously having enjoyed the call very much. ‘And how about you? Did you manage to find out anything about Dominic?’

‘Nope. He went off in a tearing hurry and didn’t say where he was going.

‘Oh, you poor love,’ said Alice. ‘What are you going to do now?’

Bella sighed deeply. ‘What can I do? I have to wait until he gets in touch with me. And he might not.’

‘I’m sure he will,’ said Alice with an urgency that meant she wasn’t actually sure. ‘He’s been called away suddenly and will be in touch as soon as he can be. Don’t worry.’

Bella nodded. ‘OK. I’ll stop thinking about him.’

Alice laughed. ‘Well, I wish you luck with that one.’

Bella smiled. ‘It’s so silly, isn’t it? When you’re in love, especially with a man who probably – might not – love you back, you know the best thing you could do to help yourself is to just put them out of your mind.’

‘But your mind has no intention of paying any attention,’ went on Alice. ‘Because minds don’t work like that.’

Bella paused. ‘I am going to miss you, Alice,’ she said. ‘Who else will talk sense to me when I need it?’

‘I will! We’ll Skype, and you can visit and I’ll be popping home all the time to make sure you’ve kept up with the dusting . . .’

‘It’s been so great living with you, Alice.’

‘I’ve loved it too. We turned out to be a pretty good match.’

‘In spite of the fact that you are a hundred and I am seventeen . . .’

‘Cheeky madam. Let’s have a glass of wine!’

Bella went to bed with no clear idea about what to do, but in the morning, after a surprisingly good night’s sleep, she knew exactly what her next course of action had to be.

‘I’m going to Liverpool,’ she announced to Alice, after tea and toast and Marmite. ‘I’m going to confront the property developer who is behind all Nevil’s dirty dealings.’

‘Oh, love! Is that wise? Going on your own? He might have a shaved head, tattoos and a gang of heavies protecting him.’

Bella laughed. ‘He’s a real person, not a character in a film. I expect he’ll be perfectly normal. Besides, I’ve seen pictures of him on the internet. He looks like a pillar of the community.’

‘Always the worst kind,’ muttered Alice. ‘Never trust a pillar.’

‘Is that your rule for life?’

Alice nodded. ‘Yup, and it’s never let me down.’

Bella frowned. ‘I do hope you can still make jokes when you’re on Skype, or I’ll have to visit often.’

‘You’ll always be welcome.’

Bella got up from the table and went round to her friend’s side. Then she hugged her.

AS BELLA SET
off, she did wonder if her numerous preparations were really stalling tactics. She had gone on the internet and printed out instructions on how to get there. She had also put details into the satnav her father had insisted she borrowed permanently, and Alice had made sandwiches for her.

She’d had – at last – a brief, impersonal email from Dominic saying that Ed Unsworth had definitely bought property in the Cotswolds.
My feeling is he went back to his roots in Liverpool to distance himself from dodgy dealings in the South West.
He’d signed it,
In haste, D.

Bella had spent some moments speculating if the single initial instead of his full name made it more intimate. But then she realised that lots of people just put an initial instead of their full names. It probably didn’t mean anything very much.

While having the extra information made her journey more sensible, it didn’t stop her anxiety. She didn’t have proof of wrongdoing, after all, only that he’d bought property. But one way or another she’d gone through a lot. It would all have been for nothing if she just let Nevil and whoever else was involved get away with it.

As the satnav and her printed instructions led her away from the recently upgraded business area of Liverpool, Bella began to wonder if there’d been a mistake. Everything she’d read about Ed Unsworth on the internet had made her expect glossy offices, like those Celine worked in. In this area, which she would describe as ‘ripe for restoration’, the businesses were mostly manufacturers, small or boarded up. In fact when she reached her destination (with only a few ‘recalculatings’ from her satnav, indicating she’d taken a wrong turning) she went on to her phone to check she had typed in the right address, really hoping she’d made some mistake. But no, this was it. Now she had to go and confront him. Alice’s warning of ‘heavies’ didn’t seem so ridiculous now.

Annoyingly, there was nowhere to leave the car remotely nearby. There was a small park with sour grass and neglected flowerbeds, with parking all round it but no empty spaces. She would have to get rid of the car and approach the office on foot.

She found a car park some distance away and hoped that the CCTV cameras were working and would mean her car would be safe. She locked up carefully, putting everything except her sandwiches in the boot and then, having hooked her handbag across her body, she set off, hoping she had remembered the direction correctly.

It was hot and her sandals started to rub, and suddenly she stopped being sure of her direction. Having checked the street was empty so no one would jump out and steal it, she got out her smartphone and went on to maps.

As an estate agent she was used to less desirable parts of the world – even the leafy Cotswolds had them. But this area was worse that she’d imagined. It seemed that the way gritty thrillers represented Liverpool had its basis in fact.

Luckily she managed to remember the postcode and put it in. The results told her the offices were still quite far. She walked on. After ten minutes or so she reached her destination.

The office was a small, scruffy building next to a car body shop. There was a lot of banging going on in the shop which made Bella think about the dodgy dealers she’d seen on reality TV shows. Very thirsty now, she thought longingly of a bottle of water she’d left in the car, cursing herself for not bringing it with her. She realised her thirst wasn’t just caused by heat and exercise, but by nerves that bordered on fear.

But, she told herself firmly, she hadn’t driven for over three hours to drive back home again without having at least tried to confront this property magnate and tell him the game was up. But the more she thought about it the more ridiculous the idea of her doing so became. How could she, young and middle class, not to mention female, possibly bring any pressure to bear on someone who was not only successful and powerful but had very dubious morals?

Someone from the body shop wolf-whistled. That made her open the door of the offices. If she hesitated any longer there would be banter, which might be well meaning but Bella was not in the mood for it.

A woman, any age between forty-five and sixty, sat behind a desk. Her hair was bright black and frizzy and her eyes heavily made-up. She peered at Bella shrewdly.

‘Can I help you, love?’

Bella knew from experience that people were generally friendlier north of Cheltenham, but somehow this woman didn’t seem to be cut from that cloth. Bella smiled before she spoke, to put off the moment when her southern vowels would make her seem even more naïve.

‘Hello. I wonder if you can help me. I’m looking for Ed Unsworth? Are these his – er – Does he work here?’ To her own ears she sounded idiotic, and her plans to confront anyone, let alone Ed Unsworth, seem ridiculous.

‘I wouldn’t call it work, love, but he’s here sometimes.’ She peered at Bella even more intently. ‘Why do you want to see him?’

None of Bella’s preparations had included rehearsing an answer to this question. All she’d thought about was what she’d say to the man himself, not to his gatekeeper. ‘It’s a private matter.’

‘It’s all right, love, you can tell me. There are no secrets here.’ The woman narrowed her eyes further, making Bella feel she could read her mind, knew exactly why she was there and didn’t think much of her chances of telling Ed Unsworth anything.

‘Really, it’s a bit awkward. I’d rather just tell him. It’s – er – personal.’ She stopped, hoping she hadn’t given the impression that she was Ed Unsworth’s love child or something. ‘Is he here? I’ve come a long way to see him.’

‘You’re not trying to get money out of him, are you? I can tell you now, that won’t work. I wouldn’t say he’s tight, but Scrooge looks very generous next to him.’

‘No. I don’t want money.’ Bella smiled again, hoping to look pathetic – which she was, really.

Something must have worked because the woman pursed her lips. ‘Well, if it’s personal, I’ll have to wait till Joe tells me himself. But I’m afraid you’re out of luck. He’s not here.’

Bella’s not very high spirits sank further. She would never psych herself up to come again. If she didn’t see him now she never would. She cleared her throat, horribly afraid she might start to cry. Looking a bit pathetic was one thing, weeping noisily was another. She mustn’t show weakness. ‘Are you expecting him back today?’

‘Doesn’t do to expect ’im, love. But he might be here in a couple of hours.’

‘OK. I’ll come back in a couple of hours then. Thank you for your help.’

‘You’re welcome,’ said the woman.

On the street again, Bella wondered what on earth she could do for two hours. For various reasons she was reluctant to get in her car and drive off. She’d have to find somewhere to park again, and the nearby car park might be full when she returned. Then she’d have to find her way back here, which hadn’t been easy. But mostly she knew if she got in her car, she’d just chicken out and drive home. Far better to stay local and on foot.

She set off and walked briskly round the block in the opposite direction to the men banging in the body shop, but even so she heard them calling after her. She walked more briskly.

The businesses that filled the streets she walked through were mainly tanning or nail salons. Wondering how on earth they could all find enough business to stay open in such a deprived area, she contemplated getting a set of acrylics to help her pass the time. That would be good for her street-cred! But she knew she was too anxious to really enjoy the process.

She had bought a bottle of water and a Mars bar from a corner shop early on in her perambulations, and these meant she managed to walk the streets, trying to keep in mind her position in relation to the offices, for an hour. Then, just as she thought she would have to sit down or die, she came across the car park and remembered her sandwiches. She could sit in the park and eat them until it was time to try Ed Unsworth again. But although her car was like an oven she was still tempted to get in it and flee, so she grabbed what she needed, ignoring the beckoning seats.

Thus, a few minutes later, the sandwiches and the drink Alice had also provided tucked under her arm, she went to the park she had seen when she first arrived.

It was bliss to sit and ease off her sandals. The sandwiches were warm from being in the car, but eating them used up some of the time. The drink was almost hot but still quenched her thirst. It had been so kind of Alice to make her a packed lunch. She got out her phone to send her a text of gratitude.

Lucky Alice, she thought, with her lovely Michael. And Jane Langley was ecstatic too, with the Agnews moving in. They were equally happy having managed to compromise at last. Alan Agnew had sent an email saying how thrilled they were to be contemplating living in at least part of the stately home of their dreams – something they never could have afforded normally. She sipped the tepid squash. What about her? Jobless, manless and, although not homeless, she was about to lose her housemate. It was hard not to feel a bit sorry for herself. And soon she would be confronting a man who was likely to just laugh at her, and she’d have to go home, after spending most of a scorching day in a place where she did not feel comfortable, having achieved precisely nothing. It would have been easier if she hadn’t been sitting in a miserable little park, where the grass smelt of dog wee and only ragwort grew in the flowerbeds.