Authors: Katie Fforde
Sally stood on the doorstep, her eyes shining. ‘Oh God I am so happy and excited I can hardly speak. I had to come straight round and tell you. Alaric’s got the girls.’
Gina couldn’t help smiling, infected by the sheer joy her sister embodied. ‘How lovely. Come on in. Tell all!’
Gina led them into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Sally pulled out a chair and sat down. I’ve got a job – and it’s just sooo perfect! I can do all the things I’m good at: creating beautiful things, selling them, having mad ideas and making them happen . . .’ She got up again, obviously too excited to sit.
‘A job – how fab! But what about the girls? Alaric has to work too.’ Gina poured water on to tea bags.
‘That’s the beautiful part. I can pretty much choose my own hours. Three days a week to begin with and more when I have time. If Alaric wants some time away from
work – or pretending to work – he can have the girls more. And, get this, his parents are paying for one day of nursery because they see it as a proper job. How brilliant is that?’ She was practically skipping round the room now.
‘Totally brilliant. I’m so thrilled for you, Sal. So who are you doing all this making and selling for?’
‘Carmella. You know, the one I sold my lamps to?’
Gina’s excitement drained away as if someone had pulled the plug out of a sink. ‘Carmella?’
‘Yes. She’s buying the French House and is going to expand hugely which is why she needs me. Gines, what’s wrong?’
Gina found that her mouth had gone dry and she felt sick, exactly as she had done when Carmella told her she wanted to buy the building. It was as if someone had died. Matthew hadn’t sold the centre already, had he? Before she’d even put her plan to him? He couldn’t have, not without telling her, surely. ‘What about the antiques centre?’
‘What about it?’ Sally flung her arms into the air as if anything was possible. ‘People can sell their antiques anywhere. It’s not as if there aren’t about a zillion antique places in Cranmore.’
‘Does she have to have her shop in the French House?’ She couldn’t bear to think of Carmella there. She remembered the proprietory way she’d looked round that time.
‘Well, yes!’ said Sally impatiently. ‘There’s nowhere else as good. It needs to be quite big, you see.’ Sally frowned as it dawned on her that Gina wasn’t also dancing about in ecstasy. ‘Why are you so upset? I know you were really getting into antiques – God knows why – but there are loads of places who’ll give you space. You don’t have to give it up.’
Gina couldn’t believe Sally didn’t see the problem. ‘That’s not the point. There are dealers there who
will
give it up if the centre closes.’
‘Then they’ll be happy to retire! People are. And if they don’t want to retire, they can move. What is the matter with you, Gina? It isn’t like you to be so negative.’
‘It’s not that I’m being negative, I’m just pointing out that if the French House closes lots of people would give up dealing in antiques.’
‘But why would you care? They’re not really your friends, you know, only acquaintances.’
Gina’s mouth dropped open. She’d never known Sally to be so . . . so appallingly insensitive. ‘What about Matthew?’
‘What about him? He knows he’s got to sell to give his ex-wife her money. Carmella’s a cash buyer. It’s a gift for him. He’ll be relieved to get rid of the centre. It’s a millstone around his neck.’
Gina let out her breath. She had told her some of that, but only the basics. Carmella must have been incredibly indiscreet.
‘That’s not what I said! The French House is Matthew’s life! He’ll be devastated if he has to sell. I care about it, and I thought you did too. When we had the Christmas event you threw yourself into it.’
‘Yes, well, that’s because it was fun and I like a challenge. But half the dealers have other outlets and it’s only a building.’
‘It’s not just that. Aunt Rainey loved the French House. She loved Matthew. She lumped us all together in her will. And it’s his home. You can’t just get him turned out!’
‘I’m not getting him turned out of his home. He has to
sell it. Carmella’s doing him a favour by making it quick and easy.’
‘But she’d be robbing him of its proper value! Her offer is bound to be well below the market price. I told you what she said when she came round that time. Anyway, the French House
isn’t
for sale.’
‘How do you know? Even if Matthew hasn’t accepted Carmella’s offer – and I know for a fact she’s putting it in today – he will. He has to; he needs the cash.’
Gina tried to keep calm. Carmella really was a devious cow. Yvette had obviously been straight on the phone to her the moment she’d left Henri’s. ‘That’s as may be but there are other ways he can raise money.’
‘Really?’
Gina noted the upward inflection of incredulity. Had everyone been practising it? Now it made her wonder if everything she’d been planning was hopeless even before she’d written a press release or told Matthew about it. ‘Of course. He doesn’t owe that much.’ She gambled on Sally not knowing the amount. Carmella might not know herself.
‘So how much does he owe?’ asked Sally.
‘I’m not really sure,’ Gina lied, ‘but not enough so he has to sell the house.’ Although it might be. Could the event she had in mind raise enough?
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. Pretty much. I’m organising an event to raise the money.’
Sally narrowed her eyes. ‘What sort of event?’
‘A Gilbert and Sullivan evening.’
Sally stared at her for several seconds, her mouth hanging open. Then she laughed. ‘Oh, Gina, really? That
is the lamest thing I have ever heard. Most people don’t know even know who Gilbert and Sullivan are.’
Gina was starting to get angry now. ‘Yes they do. Certainly more than know of Puccini! Anyway, I’m not aiming this at people who are that thick!’
‘Even so, I’m sure you’ve got to make a lot of money. How much are you planning to charge? A hundred quid a ticket?’
‘Yes.’
‘Look, Gina, I know you’re good at this sort of thing, but how on earth are you going to raise what has to be a substantial amount, even charging that much for tickets? And how many people do you think are going to readily hand out a hundred pounds when we’re in the middle of a recession? Be realistic.’
Gina couldn’t believe this was her sister talking. She was always so upbeat and supportive. What had got into her? Surely Carmella hadn’t taken over her brain?
‘I do know about the recession – there’s no need to be patronising – but there are plenty of rich people out there who are still prepared to pay that sort of money. They’ve hardly been affected by the recession. You know that.’
‘And really rich people like Gilbert and Sullivan, do they? Strange you never read that in
Hello!
magazine. I thought opera would be more their thing.’
‘If I had opera we’d have to pay the singers. Gilbert and Sullivan comes free.’ Sally’s attitude was really beginning to grate.
‘Honestly, Gina, I don’t think you’ve really thought this through. You think you can save the French House just by putting on a musical evening? It’s ridiculous.’
Even Gina, who knew all the other things the evening
was offering, felt it was a bit ridiculous, but she wasn’t going to let her sister know that. ‘I have to try!’
‘Why? Who are these people who are more important than your sister?’
‘Don’t be silly. It’s not like that.’
‘Yes it is. If Carmella can’t buy the French House I don’t have a job.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Sal, Carmella can find another house to put her bloody shop in.’
‘She can’t, as a matter of fact. She’s looked everywhere – all over the area – and can’t find anywhere else suitable. That’s when Yvette told her about the French House being about to go on the market.’
‘So those bloody women have been plotting. I knew it.’
‘What do you mean plotting? It’s all above board – Matthew owes Yvette money, has done for bloody ages, and now she wants it. She’s setting up her own business in France. She and Carmella—’
Gina knew this all too well but she hated the fact that Sally seemed to be on the side of the enemy, using it as an excuse to see Matthew homeless and the French House forced to become yet another ‘chic’ boutique for the rich and idle.
‘Will you shut up about Yvette and Carmella,’ she practically shouted, really cross now. ‘What those women are doing to Matthew—’
‘Matthew? What about Matthew?’
‘Sally, I told you! We went to France – we – you know—’
‘Shagged each other’s brains out? Well, bully for you. But, Gina, I am your sister. If the French House isn’t sold, I won’t get my dream job.’
‘It’s Matthew’s home – his business – his life!’
‘
I can’t believe you’re blowing me off for a man. You don’t even like men. When you arrived down here it was all “Oh Sally, don’t you dare matchmake” and now it’s all “It’s Matthew’s home”! Get your priorities right, for fuck’s sake!’
Gina drew in a sharp breath: she very rarely heard Sally use bad language; but this wasn’t getting anyone anywhere. And Sally had a point. In the past there would never have been any question of her putting a man before her sister, and she hadn’t told her how she really felt about Matthew. ‘Look, calm down. I’ll find somewhere else for Carmella to go.’
‘What on earth makes you think you could? It’s not as if she hasn’t looked. Carmella wants to be in Cranmore-on-the-Green. It’s perfect for her. And I want to work there too: it’s near, it’s convenient and it has a really good nursery.’
Sally was beginning to sound dangerously like her three-year-old daughters when they weren’t getting what they wanted. This wasn’t the Sally she knew and loved but this job obviously meant the world to her. ‘No need to get upset. I’ll find somewhere just as good, just as convenient—’
‘Carmella used a professional search agency and they couldn’t come up with anything,’ Sally said petulantly. The resemblance to Sephie having a paddy was now uncanny.
‘There might be things that have come on the market since then.’
Sally slumped in her chair. ‘I need tea. This is so horrible. I thought you’d want me to have my dream job. It never occurred to me you’d do something as underhand as try to stop me.’
Gina slammed the kettle down on its stand having filled it with water. Their row had stopped her in her tea-making track before. ‘I’m not doing anything underhand!’
‘Do you hate Carmella? Are you jealous of her? Is this because of Egan?’
‘Egan? No. Why on earth should this be to do with Egan? Look, Rainey loved Matthew. Of course she did or why would she involve him in her will? She loved the centre. Otherwise why would she want us to take on her space? This is
family
, Sally!’
‘No, actually,’ Sally bit out the words, her eyes sparkling with anger or tears, ‘
I
am family! Your sister!’
Then she slammed out of the kitchen and out of the front door.
Gina felt sick all over again. She and Sally hadn’t had a proper quarrel since they were teenagers. Her head was swimming and she wanted to cry only she couldn’t. Her tears were all balled up in her chest and wouldn’t come out. Then her phone rang, jolting her out of her stupor.
She answered it automatically. It was Nicholas.
‘Darling girl, I think you should come over. Matthew’s a bit upset.’
WHEN GINA SAW
Matthew she felt Nicholas’s description of ‘a bit upset’ was a huge understatement. Matthew seemed bigger and darker and chillingly controlled.
As soon as she’d arrived, Bernard had ushered Gina into the Orangery, where Matthew was waiting for her, so they could ‘thrash out their differences alone’, as Nicholas put it. Gina got the impression that if there was thrashing going on, Matthew would be the one doing it. If she’d thought him headmasterish when she first met him, it was nothing to how he came across now. What on earth had happened?
‘What the fuck did you think you were doing?’ he said, emphasising each word.
Gina had never heard him swear before and the unfamiliarity gave it terrifying impact. Two people she cared deeply about had sworn at her in the space of an hour. ‘You obviously know,’ she said, as calmly as she could and not allowing herself to flinch.
He went on in the same icy, relentless tone. ‘Nicholas was one of my father’s best and most loyal clients and now he is my client. You know how important his privacy is
to him. I brought you here because I trusted you, assumed you would respect how he felt about his home, and now you’ve done this.’
Gina found she was shaking and couldn’t tell if it was anger or nerves. Being accused for the second time of something appalling when actually she was only trying to do good, she found she couldn’t be calm and soothing as she was trained to be. ‘I haven’t actually done anything,’ she said, matching her tone to his. ‘I have merely made a proposition and Nicholas agreed.’
‘Well, you had absolutely no right. I gather you wanted to raise money to save my house. Well, it’s my house, thank you very much, and if it’s going to be saved, I’m the one to do it!’
‘And what were you planning to do to save it? Anything? Or were you just going to sell the bloody thing – to the lowest bidder!’
‘I don’t think abusing the trust of a very old client and friend is the way to behave under any circumstances.’ His look of disdain made her feel like a worm but she wasn’t going to let him see that.
‘Give me some credit,’ she said. ‘Obviously I asked Nicholas first. He’s very happy to help.’
‘Are you sure? Are you sure he really wants this thing or is he just indulging you?’
Suddenly she wasn’t certain. Perhaps Nicholas
was
just indulging her, but she still felt insulted that Matthew would think that she would let him without a thought for his welfare. Did he think so badly of her? ‘He’s a grown man – he’s not going to do anything he doesn’t want to do.’
‘And when were you going to tell me about it?’
‘Tonight! Or have you forgotten we have an
appointment
?’
‘So why am I the last to know?’
She had been so excited by her plans and the thought of revealing them to Matthew. She might have known he’d throw cold water over them before she’d had a chance to tell him. Her resolve strengthened. They were good plans; Nicholas was keen – no matter what Matthew was implying. She’d help him even if she was beginning to wonder if he really deserved her help. Well, she’d do it for the other dealers and the memory of her Aunt Rainey.