A French Affair (12 page)

Gina sighed with relief. She knew in every bone it was a good idea. She might not have won the war but she’d won her second battle – first getting Matthew to approve the Christmas event, now Sunday opening. She felt strangely exhilarated. ‘Fine. I’d ask Sally to do Sundays with me but Sundays would be hard for her, with the girls.’

‘My point exactly,’ said Matthew. ‘Would you like another drink?’

Gina shook her head. ‘No thank you. I expect I should be going really.’ In spite of knowing this was not a date and not fancying Matthew or anything remotely like that, she somehow didn’t want to leave his company. She found her bag and got to her feet.

Matthew rose too. ‘Can I suggest you stay and eat with me? I want to talk about the woman who bought your bottles. I think I’ve worked out who she is.’

Gina became enthusiastic. ‘If you’re offering me gossip: definitely! But we’ll pay for ourselves, yes?’

‘If you prefer.’

When they both had plates of steak and ale pie in front of them, Gina said, ‘So who is the mystery scent-bottle buyer?’

Matthew chuckled. ‘I’m fairly sure she’s planning to set up a shop in town.’

Gina’s happiness diminished a little. ‘Not an antiques shop?’

He shook his head. ‘No. The sort of shop that sells vastly expensive bits and pieces for “the home”. You know the sort of thing: scented candles costing over fifty quid, vile fake zebra-skin lampshades and faux-fur throws, whatever a throw is.’

‘It’s a blanket.’

‘So why not call it a blanket?’ he demanded.

‘You sound as if you’d rather she was opening a sex shop. Why are you so indignant?’ She was just relieved it wasn’t more competition for the centre.

‘The premises she’s got her hands on used to be rented by a lovely old antiques guy. She offered more rent so he was out on his ear.’

Gina bit her lip, aware that instead of thinking, ‘one less dealer to take our business’, he just thought about the person. In spite of her own concerns about there being far too much competition in the town, she had to admit it was rather lovely of him, even if it did mean his business wasn’t doing as well as it could.

‘It’s sad about your friend. Why don’t you offer him space in the centre?’

As usual his expression was unreadable but Gina
though she detected ruefulness. ‘I would have done but we don’t currently have space.’

Gina felt stabbed with guilt. ‘If you didn’t have to give Rainey’s spot to us you’d have had space.’

‘But I did have to. And my first loyalty is to Rainey – or her descendants.’

Gina put her hand in her lap so she couldn’t put it on his, which was lying on the table. ‘I’m touched. It must have been, well, a bit of a shock, when Sally and I turned up with the girls that day.’

The corner of his mouth moved. He seemed much more relaxed now, like a man loosening his tie after a particularly difficult meeting. He didn’t have that guarded look about him.

‘It was a bit of a facer, I must admit. But then Rainey liked shocking people so I shouldn’t be surprised really.’

‘I wish I’d known her better. She was obviously much loved.’

‘She was a wonderful person and I expect she wished you two madwomen on to me for the good of my soul.’ There was a smile at the back of his eyes as he looked down into hers.

Gina couldn’t help smiling back. ‘We owe it to her to make a success of it then.’

‘We do. And you’ve made an excellent start.’

‘Thank you. Which was partly down to you.’ She paused. ‘I know you said you can only learn this business by doing it but are there any books I could read? I’d quite like to hurry the process up!’

He chuckled. ‘If you’re interested, I’ve certainly got some books I could lend you. I’ll get them for you later when you go back for your car.’

‘
I’d really appreciate that.’

As they continued to eat, Gina realised she was enjoying his company. He didn’t feel obliged to be charming and entertaining all the time, which was very restful. And now she acknowledged to herself he was attractive, it was easier somehow.

Oscar was still inert by the fireplace. The large party had now left and the pub was quiet. Gina suddenly yawned. ‘Sorry! I don’t know why that happened.’

He smiled. ‘I’ll get the bill.’

‘No, we’ll pay for ourselves. We’re colleagues – remember?’

‘I asked you. It was my invitation. Therefore you must let me pay.’

‘Matthew . . .’ She spoke gently. ‘I really hate to be the one to break it to you but things have changed a bit since Queen Victoria died. Women are treated more or less equally these days. They have the vote and everything.’

‘Really? When did that happen?’

Gina smiled. ‘Tell me, if I’d been one of the male dealers you were having a meal at a pub with, would you have had a problem with him paying for himself?’

‘Of course not, but you’re a woman.’

‘Thank you for noticing, but we’re colleagues. It’s fine for us to pay for ourselves.’

He raised an eyebrow but just then Oscar got up and stood in front of Matthew.

‘Oscar thinks it’s time we stopped arguing and went home,’ she said. She handed Matthew a note which would cover her share.

Frowning slightly, he picked it up and walked over to the bar.

After a ‘Bye then, Matthew, see you again soon’ from the barman, they walked back to the centre in companionable silence. ‘Will you be all right here while I fetch the books?’ he asked, when they reached her car. ‘Oh yes, of course you will. You’ve got the vote!’

Gina laughed as she watched him disappear into the house, Oscar following far more slowly.

GINA SPENT MOST
of Sunday sorting out her papers and concentrating on how to entice more clients. As the working week began, although the antiques books Matthew had lent her drew Gina with a siren call she managed to resist and focus – for most of the morning at least – on getting herself some paying clients. Doing free PR for the centre was all very well but it wouldn’t pay her bills.

She switched on her laptop while she was still eating breakfast and to her surprise and delight there was an email from a charity courtesy of her one paying client and she instantly emailed back suggesting a meeting.

Then she allowed herself a look at perfume bottles on eBay before setting off to see her sister. Sally had rung after Gina got home from the pub on Saturday night and had had to be convinced that the celebratory drink and meal with Matthew didn’t mean she should be choosing a wedding outfit.

‘Oh. So nothing happened between you?’ Sally had said after Gina had explained about her brilliant sale, and told her that the buyer of the scent bottles might be opening
a shop. ‘Well, Matthew might be being sniffy about that shop but I think it sounds as if it could be useful. I’ve made a really cool lamp using some of those bits of chandelier we got at Newark and her shop might be just the place to sell it.’

‘I thought you were going to make Christmas decorations for our event.’ Gina had been indignant. Had Sally’s dislike of old things taken hold again?

‘I am and I have, but some of those bits are quite chunky. I couldn’t use them all for decs, but nor could I waste them. I’ve been experimenting a bit with my soldering iron – not easy in a house our size that contains small children – but among other things I’ve made some really fabulous lamps. They send rainbows all over the room.’

‘Gosh, those are
beautiful
!’ said Gina now. ‘You are clever. They’re not exactly antique-looking though, are they?’

Sally regarded her creations. She’d made three lamps, each very different from the other. ‘To be honest, I’m not sure what to do with them now I’ve made them. I mean, supposing that shop doesn’t open?’

Gina, perched on the edge of the kitchen table, studied the lamps, which took up the entire worktop. ‘We’ll find somewhere. They really are lovely, Sal.’

‘So how much should I charge for them?’

Gina chewed her lip. ‘Well, any shop would put a big mark-up on them – possibly fifty per cent – so think what they might sell for, and make it top whack, then work backwards. Or take them to Liberty’s and see if they’d like them.’

‘The trouble is they might want to go on having them. I’ve only got enough chandelier pieces left for a couple
of small lamps.’ Sally tweaked one of her creations. ‘Who’d have thought I’d turn out to be so good at soldering?’

‘Who indeed? But would you like to spend all your time making lamps? If you would, I’m sure you could get more parts. You could buy them new after all.’

‘To be honest it’s creating something out of what’s there that’s the fun. I’m not sure I want to be a production line.’ She hesitated. ‘Although if it was earning good money I couldn’t really say no.’

‘The woman who bought the bottles left her card. Shall we get in touch and see if she wants them?’

‘Maybe we should wait until we know more. We need to be sure she is opening a shop. Ah, here are Alaric and the girls. Peacetime is officially over.’

The next day, after a very satisfactory meeting with the charity, Gina took the very long route home via Cranmore-on-the-Green. Quite why she was so drawn to the French House she wasn’t sure – perhaps because the antiques business was seeping into her blood? She had been poring over
Miller’s Antiques Handbook
, the book Matthew said would give her most information fastest, trying to learn as much as she could. Now, she wanted to see if any of the dealers had new stock, who was on duty, what had sold and how people were feeling. It was the community of the centre that attracted her, she told herself and nothing to do with its owner.

She parked the car in the public car park, aware the dealers spaces would probably all be taken, and set off to the French House. On her way she saw a new shop being done out. This must be the one Matthew had talked about –
rented by her scent-bottle buyer, Carmella Romera. Curiosity and a gap in the sheets of paper covering the windows led her straight to it. She couldn’t resist a snoop and it would be good to see what sort of stock Carmella was planning on carrying.

She was just peering sideways to see if she could get a better view when someone moved into her line of vision. It looked incredibly like Egan, her devious, cheating, embezzling ex-boyfriend. No – it couldn’t be! Her heart sinking, she looked more intently, hoping a shift of angle would reveal the man to be someone quite different. But no. It was definitely him. And just at the moment she took this in, he looked up and spotted her.

Instinct made her run. As fast as she could she crossed the road and dashed up towards the French House, trusting he’d lose her among the people bustling along. She flew up the steps to the entrance and burst through the front door before realising Egan wasn’t following her and had probably never intended to. It still took her a few seconds to stop panicking.

‘Hello! You’re in rather a hurry, aren’t you?’

It was a late-middle-aged man Gina hadn’t met before. He had greying hair and was wearing a suit that was old but fitted perfectly. His accent proclaimed he was from the upper classes but his smile was friendly.

‘Hello!’ she replied, panting slightly, wondering how she could explain her explosive entry.

‘You must be Gina, I think,’ he went on. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

Gina took a breath and smiled. ‘That doesn’t sound good.’

The man chuckled. ‘It’s not all bad, I assure you, and Rainey’s nieces will always be part of the family here.’

After her melodramatic dash through the streets this was especially comforting. She perched on an old oak settle that happened to be handy. Now her anxiety to get away from Egan had faded and she remembered she’d only been going to the centre to see what was new and meet some of the dealers she hadn’t met before. Getting to know this elegant and kindly gentleman was a very good start. ‘How very kind of you!’

‘I’m Bill Morrison, by the way.’ He took her hand and shook it. ‘We haven’t coincided before. I’m not here that often as I have things in a couple of other centres and have to keep my eye on them.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘It must have taken you a while to catch up with us all here.’

She nodded. ‘It has – though it shouldn’t.’ She frowned. ‘I should have made a point of meeting everyone. I still haven’t.’

He shook his head slightly. ‘No one else has ever done that. There is no reason why you should.’

She was about to tell him that she had plans to shake the centre up a bit but decided she shouldn’t do that just yet. She smiled and shrugged instead.

‘Actually, I am very glad to run into you at last,’ he went on. ‘I was at an auction the other day and picked up this job lot at the end. Much of it is rubbish but there are a couple of items in there I knew Rainey would have liked.’ He smiled and held out his hand. ‘Yours for a tenner. But if you don’t want it, no hard feelings.’

She took the hand and closed the deal, although she hadn’t seen what was in the box yet. She felt it would be churlish to ignore this sweet gesture. After all, he knew a lot more about the business than she did. ‘That is so
kind of you.’ She found her bag and, eventually, her wallet and the aforementioned tenner.

‘Rainey and I used to buy things for each other quite often,’ he said. ‘After all, you can’t be at every auction.’

Gina looked rueful. ‘It’ll be a while before my sister and I know nearly enough to buy things for you at auctions, I’m afraid. I can’t even reliably buy things for our own stall.’

‘Ah.’ He inclined his head. ‘But I hear you can sell – very much more important ultimately.’

What had Matthew told him? Had they all been discussing the two new arrivals?

‘I was just lucky. But after all those scent bottles went, we’re now low on stock so your contribution is very gratefully received.’ Thinking about the scent bottles reminded her about seeing Egan in the shop but she pushed him out of her mind. She had a new life now. ‘Actually, Bill . . .’

‘Yes, my dear? Anything I can do to help?’

‘I have this plan to put on a special event, before Christmas, to get people into the centre who wouldn’t usually come in . . .’