Page 67 of Oz
He stares at me. “This means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” I nod, and he shakes his head, leaning forward. “Okay. That’s the bottom line they’re prepared to pay, but confidentially I can tellyou to add another zero when you bargain.” He looks at the old kitchen. “They’re going to want this.”
I nod. “And will you need us to do anything?” I pause. “You won’t damage the house, will you?”
He shakes his head immediately. “Of course not. We’re extremely careful. We’ll put our own stuff up anyway, but we take every care to leave everything as we find it.” He shudders slightly, and I smile. He carries on. “It’s good for the local area, anyway. The crew will use the local hotels and bed and breakfasts for accommodation and once the series hits the TV, the tourists will come. Shaun says the earl’s thinking of opening to the public?” I nod and he shrugs. “Well then, more for the pot.” He pauses. “I’ll have to talk to him anyway before we go back.”
There’s a short silence as I bite my lip and Shaun nudges me. “Confess, Ozzy. It’ll make you happier.” I grin. It’s a well-used phrase that he got from my mum.
“I might not have told him yet.”
“What?” Jasper explodes, and I hold my hands up.
“Don’t worry, he’ll be absolutely fine with it. I just didn’t want to get his hopes up.”
He nods. “I’m just nipping outside to make a phone call.” He looks around the house. “Fucking Cornish phone reception.”
Silence falls until Shaun stirs. “You didn’t want to get hishopesup?”
I flush. “Shut up.”
Shaun shakes his head. “I’m not sure how the aristocracy works, but I’m pretty certain that their staff don’t keep things from them because they don’t want them to be upset.”
I jump up and gather their plates together and throw the scraps into the bin. “He’s different. You’ll see.”
“Oh, what have you done, Oz?” Shaun intones. That’s a well-used phrase too, by the way.
“I haven’t done anything.” I avoid his eyes by stacking the plates in the dishwasher.
“How old is this earl?”
“Erm, about thirty-seven, I think,” I say, my voice awkward as I bend over the sink.
“Well, that’s a relief.”
I spin round. “What?”
He grins, his face dear and familiar. “I thought he was in his eighties and you’d embarked on a hobby of necrophilia.”
“You’re disgusting,” I breathe, and he laughs harder.
“Whatever. You’re obviously fucking him.” He shakes his head. “You know what, Oz. I reckon you’ve got a boss fetish.”
“Oh, fuck off,” I mutter as he laughs harder, holding his sides.
“You’d be fucking murder onThe Apprentice.”
I come back to the table and slump in my chair. “I’m an idiot.”
He shakes his head. “That remains to be seen.”
“How?”
“I need to meet him and ask him what his intentions are.” He puffs up his chest. “I must make sure that my beloved Ozzy is not being used and thrown away by a member of the nobility and left destitute and shamed in the dirt.”
“Christ, you’ve been reading Catherine Cookson too,” comes an amused posh voice from the kitchen door.
We both jump. “Silas,” I breathe.
At that moment Jasper comes into the kitchen. “I’ve cleared it with production. They’ll need to talk to your boss.” Not seeing Silas, he ambles over to the table and bends over me. “Want to celebrate, Oz? As I recall, you give the best celebrations.”
