Love-40 (31 page)

‘Ah.' Josh looked down at his hands. ‘Michael?'

That wasn't what she'd meant at all. ‘That lot next door,' she began. ‘You, and –'

‘Coffee up!' Estelle appeared in the doorway, radiant and smiling, and Suzi's words trailed away. Brain and heart seemed to have both kissed the moment goodbye, she thought. But perhaps, after all, it was best to let him go and say nothing. If she confronted him with what she knew, there'd only be another argument. He was leaving – what did it matter?

Estelle picked up the card Suzi had left on the counter. ‘What's this, then?'

Suzi switched off as Josh explained, turning her attention to the price list on the far side of the counter. She must ask Michael to move out, she realised. Without delay. It was over between them and this way, they were just prolonging the pain. She was meant to live alone, just her and the animals in the cottage, she'd never find a man she liked enough to share it with her. And bugger it, she was probably better off without one.

‘Suzi, you've changed the position of that price list about ten times,' Estelle said. ‘I've known you to be more productive.'

‘I can't make up my mind.' And that just about summed it up, Suzi thought.

Estelle shrugged and turned her attention back to Josh. ‘So you're going organic and living off the land?' She laughed and tucked a stray strand of red hair back into the bandanna. ‘And there's an orchard and even a small vineyard? It sounds blissful.' She seemed to lean closer to him, inviting confidences. She looked like an extremely attractive gipsy, Suzi thought, repressing the urge to drag Josh off the counter and away from her.

‘I'm after a few more of those open spaces.' Josh looked meaningfully at Suzi but she ignored him.

‘So no more trips to Germany then?' Estelle asked him.

‘'Fraid not.'

‘That's a shame,' Estelle waved her hand to take in the contents of the shop. ‘Because Suzi and I are desperate to get rid of this furniture.'

‘Desperate to get
rid
of it?' he echoed.

Suzi could feel his eyes on her, knew he was laughing at her. Low down rat, she thought. What was it about him anyway? How come he had so much power over her internal organs?

She heard Estelle telling him about their plans (how long before that got back to Terry?) heard him mmming and ohing and ah yessing.

‘Sounds a great idea,' he said when she'd finished, as if they needed him to sanction it, for heaven's sake. ‘Jewellery, hmm? Good luck with it all.'

Suzi looked across at him just in time to catch the cat's grin – and put the price list back where it had been in the first place. With a bang.

All very well. But it wasn't so easy for her to go back to the beginning, even if she wanted to. And Suzi had the uneasy sensation that nothing would be the same again.

*   *   *

To go or not to go? Liam scowled at his one and only dress suit, that could undeniably use a trip to the dry cleaners. He should support the club – and this was CG's big night. And he'd be there anyway in the afternoon – unless he ducked out of the American tournament as well. But he didn't want his nose rubbed in it.

Estelle and Nick … He wasn't sure he could face the sight of them – especially now that Nick seemed an OK sort of a bloke too. All right when he was a poncy git who knew nothing about the real world … Liam took a step back to see how far you had to go before the mark didn't show. Jesus … He wanted to see her. But could he bear to see her – with another man?

Gloomily, Liam spat on a tissue and rubbed ineffectually at a stain on the collar of the black jacket. Bits of tissue clung stickily to the fabric. Damn it. Why should he bother? This would be an Erica Raddle shindig, and too select for his taste by far. He sighed. Dress suits, indeed …

Shit. Liam put the suit back in the wardrobe. It might be the highlight of the club's year, but frankly he'd rather sink his sorrows alone, with a bottle of wine and a take-away. And as for Estelle … Well, what was the point in pining for what you knew you couldn't have?

*   *   *

To go or not to go? Michael stared into Hester the goat's pale, uncomprehending eyes. Suzi had invited him to the dance. But should he go? He wasn't sure he felt part of Chestnut Grove Tennis Club any more. He liked it there – they all did. But when was the last time he'd even played?

Hester said nothing to sway him one way or the other, merely stared back at him, blinking, head drooping slightly as if she'd resume munching Suzi's lawn just as soon as Michael's back was turned.

Michael stroked her coarse white coat. He had forgiven her for the head-butt. She was a goat after all and she'd felt threatened. Maybe in some obscure way it had even been a sign of affection.

It would be easy to duck out of the dance, he realised. He had a gig at the Bear and Bottle tomorrow night. Suzi had suggested he come on later, and of course he could do that – traditionally the dance went on till the early hours. But what was the point?

Hester jerked at her rope in a less than understanding kind of a way.

‘Why am I doing it?' Michael asked her. ‘Why won't I give up?' Why was he dragging on a relationship that was over, taking advantage of the fact that Suzi couldn't bring herself to end it? And why was he talking to a goat?

‘For God's sake look at me,' Michael said to Hester.

At this, Hester, who had clearly had more than enough, bent her head and started chewing.

‘And I can't even keep the goat's bloody attention,' Michael muttered.

*   *   *

I really don't understand,' Estelle said to Suzi, ‘why you had to be so rude to him.' She looked over to where Suzi was standing by the shop window, looking desolate. ‘I thought you liked him.'

‘I do. I did. I do.'

Estelle sighed. ‘So if you like him –'

‘It's not that simple.'

Suzi had on her stubborn face. Jaw clenched, mouth unsmiling and her arms folded in front of her. Just let anyone try to come close … Estelle touched her shoulder. ‘Michael?' she asked.

Suzi spun round. ‘Why does everyone think it's Michael?' Her green eyes were fierce. Clearly, Estelle had touched more than her shoulder – she'd touched a nerve. ‘If you really want to know –'

‘Yes?'

‘If you really want to know…' Suzi faltered.

‘Hmm?' Estelle was losing patience.

‘I saw him in the pub with Stan and Terry.' The words tumbled out. ‘I think he was involved in … all that nasty stuff that happened.'

‘Josh?' Estelle blinked at her. ‘You're joking.'

‘I wish I was.'

*   *   *

‘Y'know, Suzi,' Estelle said later, looking up from the accounts book, ‘we've easily got enough to pay the rent this month.'

‘That's good,' Suzi said. She wanted to be pleased, but she felt like her face was stuck in a frown. Everything seemed to be spinning out of control. She wasn't sure what she wanted, wasn't sure about anything any more. She only knew that something was horribly wrong.

Thankfully, Estelle continued with enough enthusiasm for them both. ‘The jewellery's going well. Really taking off. And if only we could shift some of this –'

She was interrupted by an unexpected sight in the doorway of the shop. Stan and Terry stood there, side by side.

So this is what it had come down to, Suzi thought. A double duel. Their hands hung loose by their belts. Any moment, and they'd go for their guns. Perhaps not, though, because it was hard to say which of them looked the most embarrassed, the most pissed off.

‘What the hell do you want?' Suzi snapped. She was tired of not being confrontational. After what these two had done to them, she was
itching
for a fight.

‘We've come to buy your stock,' Stan said, not looking at her.

‘What?'

‘The furniture.' He waved a hand. ‘We want to buy the whole blinking lot.'

Not exactly what she'd been expecting … Suzi stared at him. Was he winding her up?

‘Everything?' Estelle asked.

‘Everything.'

‘Well, you can stuff it,' Suzi said hotly. ‘If you think we'd sell anything to you –'

‘Hang on a sec.' Estelle interrupted her. ‘All our stock?'

‘Yep.' Terry looked dispiritedly around the shop, at the wash-stand, the grandfather clock et al. He looked profoundly depressed.

‘But not the jewellery,' Estelle said.

‘Not the jewellery.'

‘No way!' Suzi glared at Estelle. Where was her pride?

‘How much?' asked Estelle.

‘Three grand.' Stan pulled out a wad of notes.

‘What?' Suzi was gobsmacked. She watched him counting out the money.

‘Fifty, one, one fifty, two…'

‘Four grand,' said Estelle.

‘What?' Suzi stared at her. Had she gone mad? Had they all gone mad? And how come her vocabulary had suddenly become so limited?

Estelle narrowed her eyes. She looked, Suzi thought, suitably scary. ‘Or no deal,' she said. Not so much Western duel as Mafia entanglement.

Did they all know something she didn't? Suzi continued to look from one to the other of them in bewilderment.

‘You drive a hard bargain.' Stan glanced towards Terry. ‘Bloody Jules had better come in on this, right?'

‘Right,' Terry agreed.

‘Is it real?' Suzi said, staring at the pile of cash. She'd never seen so much money before.

Estelle picked up the notes, held the first few up to the light. ‘It had better be,' she said.

‘We'll have the stuff picked up in the morning,' said Terry as they left the shop.

‘The whole damn lot!' Estelle chucked the notes in the air. ‘We can pay off the landlord, Suze. We'll even have some left to buy some more jewellery.'

Suzi was glad she was pleased. Hell, she was pleased. Only, ‘Why?' she asked. And something else was bothering her. Something Stan had said earlier.

‘I'm not sure.' Estelle became thoughtful. She bundled the notes together again. ‘But I think I'm beginning to get an idea. And d'you know, Suzi, I really think we can turn things around.'

*   *   *

As they stood there, bemused but undeniably relieved, a little old lady trotted into the shop. She beamed at them. ‘Lovely day.'

‘Super!' Estelle re-focused and realised it was Mrs Barnaby, whose mood seemed to have vastly improved since her last visit. Estelle tried to calm her excitement, forced herself to be attentive, shovelled the money into the top drawer of the desk. ‘Did you enjoy the roadshow?' she asked.

‘Oh, yes, my dear.' She winked at Suzi. ‘That lovely young man. So helpful, so kind.'

Suzi grunted, Estelle could guess what she was thinking …
Lovely young man? She knows nothing.
And even Estelle had to admit that Josh was hardly young – even by Mrs Barnaby's standards.

‘I've got a few words I'd like to say to him,' the old lady chortled.

‘Haven't we all.' Suzi folded her arms tighter still across her chest. More stressed than a nun in a porn shop, Estelle thought.

‘You've just missed him.' Estelle did a double-take as Mrs Barnaby opened her bag and drew out some pearl ear-rings identical to the ones she'd valued some weeks ago. ‘But I thought…' She frowned as these were joined by a diamond and garnet necklace and an amethyst ring. ‘Surely these are the pieces you sold to The Bargain Basement?'

Mrs Barnaby merely fluffed up her grey perm, gave them a knowing look and let them come to their own conclusions.

Suzi came towards the counter and together they fingered the jewellery. ‘Aren't they?' Estelle asked again.

‘They are indeed,' Mrs Barnaby said at last. ‘They returned them to me. And some of the furniture too.'

‘Returned them?' Estelle looked at Suzi and Suzi looked out of the open doorway towards the shop next door. What exactly was going on? Estelle had her suspicions but –

‘Got my money back and everything.' She nodded serenely. ‘But I hope you don't mind, my dears. You see, I've decided to keep everything for now and put that little table I brought to your roadshow into auction instead.'

‘Of course we don't mind,' Estelle murmured, her brain working overtime.

‘Why would they do that?' Suzi said what they were both thinking.

Mrs Barnaby leaned forwards. ‘That young man,' she said.

‘Young man?' But Estelle was beginning to understand even more.

‘That lovely young man.'

‘Josh?' Suzi and Estelle spoke together.

‘Mr Willis. That was his name, wasn't it?'

They nodded.

‘I thought it was him.' Mrs Barnaby tucked her jewellery back into her bag. ‘Excuse my language, but when they said it…'

‘It?'

‘All this is because of that
bloody
Willis.' Mrs Barnaby enunciated the words slowly but clearly and with great relish. She nodded, satisfied. ‘That was what the fat man said.'

‘When he brought your jewellery back?' Estelle confirmed.

‘Exactly.' She closed her bag with a click. ‘I'm not a clever woman,' she said. ‘But I think one can assume that Mr Willis had a hand in it.'

‘I think one can,' Estelle murmured. So that's what Josh had been doing with Stan and Terry in the pub. Sorting it for Mrs Barnaby. Sorting it for them too. She looked at Suzi but Suzi was miles away, fists clenching and unclenching as if she were about to lose it completely.

‘The other common denominator,' Suzi said.

‘What?'

‘Jules Wilson – the landlord. He's the other common denominator. Did you hear what Stan said earlier?'

Estelle frowned, trying to remember. Yes, he had been mentioned, come to think of it. And yes, now she knew what Suzi was gabbling on about. If anyone knew how broke they were it was Jules Wilson – he'd heard enough sob stories as to why they couldn't pay their rent. And it rather sounded as if he was more than just a landlord to Stan and Terry … Good grief. The final piece slotted into place.