Page 69 of The Price of Love
‘I was thinking about a quarter of a million. Would that do?’
A double blink. That was the only sign he gave that he was impressed. ‘Two hundred and fifty thousand? That sounds very generous. You should get a nice little return on that, depending on sales, but James is doing well with the cars in Boston, so . . .’
I let out a small breath of relief. James obviously hadn’t told Luke about the phone call, which was just as well. I’d had to work out a cover story rivallingThe Da Vinci Codein its impenetrable complexities to prevent Luke from finding out exactly how much I knew about his activities, and I wasn’t one hundred per cent sure of being able to remember it without cue cards.
Oooh, and that was a big, filthyliethere, Mr Fry.
‘Great. Anyway, I’ll always hold a share of the cars, as security. So I know you won’t rip me off, ha ha.’ Ha bloody ha, indeed.
Luke and I finished dinner and I pretended annoyance at not being able to take up his offer of ‘going back to the flat for abottle of champagne’. I told him to put it on ice for me. With any luck it would get frostbite and drop off.
‘Goodnight then, Willow.’ He dropped me at my front door, his attempted vigorous kiss being narrowly averted by my pretended interest in next-door’s cat on the wall. ‘See you in a couple of days?’
‘Not tomorrow?’ More pretended annoyance.
‘Well, I’m a bit busy. Got some architect coming round with plans for the showroom interiors. Several companies are pitching for it, so I like to be there in person to see what they’re offering. Anyway, you’re off to the council tomorrow, aren’t you? And then it’s the weekend and I’m going to Wales to visit Da.’
‘Maybe we should save ourselves for next weekend then. And,’ I dropped my voice flirtatiously, ‘by then I should have the all clear from the doctor. I’m rather hoping to give you an absolutely unforgettable time.’
‘Sounds good to me. I’ll pop in and see you, to make sure it’s all okay.’ He revved the engine of the big black car (I presumed this was another one of the rentals, paid for by the credit card that my money was, no doubt, funding. I was, technically, paying for my own dates) and set off.
I did a little pavement dance of glee and hopped into the Micra, which Luke had failed to notice parked at the end of the road. Cal was sitting inside reading a hugely spread out newspaper and wearing a huge Panama hat as a disguise.
‘He’s gone for it. Weekend after this. Will that give us long enough? How are the boys getting on?’
Cal pulled the hat off and shook his hair free. ‘Pretty bloody well, since you ask. I know how to pick a team and I think they’re impressed with you. Firstly, the deviousness of your mind, and secondly I told them about the thing with the melon.’
‘It wasn’t a melon, it was a tangerine, and kindly don’t bandy details of my private life about with your mates.’
‘Aw, go on.’
‘Well, all right, but only the stuff that makes me sound good.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I was kept waiting at the council office. One of the people concerned hadn’t turned up, so instead of being met in reception and taken to my destination, I found myself kicking my heels and engaging Vivienne Parry in conversation. Which wasn’t difficult. I had the feeling that the woman could chat equally well to a delegation of nuclear physicists or a round of tuna sandwiches. (Although what either of these would be doing hanging around the York Council Roads Department, I couldn’t imagine.)
I learned that she’d worked at the council for ten years, four of them in the Roads Department, that Mr Parry was a teacher of English, and that she’d been extremely overworked lately. ‘What with Nadine taking so long off sick and one of the other girls on maternity leave, it’s been busy, busy, busy.’
I took a sip of the coffee she’d made me. It was highly sugared and not really to my taste, but better than nothing. ‘I was at university with Nadine, you know.’
‘Yes, she mentioned, when you were first here. That was about the last time she was at work, actually, now I come to think about it, poor girl. Practically had a nervous breakdown in the Ladies that day, sobbing her heart out, she was. I told her, no man’s worth putting yourself through that much pain, but she wouldn’t have it. Apparently he’s the love of her life, although quite why she thinks that of a man who’s treated her so appallingly, I don’t know.’
‘It’s surprising what you’ll put up with when you’re in love,’ I said, thinking of Luke. ‘Or, at least, when youimagineyou’re in love.’
‘I think’ — Vivienne lowered her voice and I bent in close — ‘that he might have got her pregnant and that’s why she’s been off so long. Apparently,them upstairshave given her indefiniteleave, which is what often happens when there’s anunfortunate event.’ She threw a significant look at the ceiling. I supposed she meant the collective council bosses, rather than a pantheon of gods.
‘Fancy getting pregnant by someone who’s that unreliable.’ At least that was one mistake I hadn’t had to tick off in my I-Spy Book of Terrible Misfortunes.
‘Yes, from all accounts he’s a real smoothy. Had all the chat, took her to expensive restaurants, got her to invest her savings in some business or other that he’s setting up, then gave her a real runaround.’
‘They’re always the worst.’
‘Yes.’ Vivienne sighed wistfully, and I got the impression that Mr Parry could never have been accused of being a real smoothy. ‘Poor Nadine.’
There was just something in her inflexion. Nadine. ‘What was his name, did you say?’
Vivienne shook her head. It took several moments for her chins to stop moving, but when they did, she said, ‘I’m sure she mentioned it, but I can’t say I was really paying attention. You know how things are. Although, hold on a moment.’ A hatch in the desk opened and I was beckoned through, and ushered into an inner office. ‘There’s a photo, there, on her desk. She may have written his name on it.’
