‘You’re going to fight me, for the bedroom?’
Nessa shook her head. ‘I’m going to fight your plans to destroy the Ghost Village.’
He sighed. Of course she hadn’t accepted the inevitable.
‘You can try,’ he told her, ‘but I’m afraid you won’t succeed.’
‘It can’t be right to obliterate all that history.’
‘So what’s the alternative? Leave the place to gradually fall down by itself?’
‘It’s a monument to the people who lost their lives.’
‘And our new apartments there will be a monument to the fact that life goes on and people need homes in which to live. You can’t be Canute and hold back the tide of change.’
That sounded pompous, even to his own ears, and he wished he hadn’t said it. He was making a hash of talking to this woman who was now standing with her hands on her hips and her lips pursed, as if she wanted to punch him or cry and hadn’t quite made up her mind which.
‘Your new homes are a monument to your desire to be even richer, in your ivory tower in London,’ she retorted.
She was being ridiculous now. The company HQ was hardly an ivory tower. It was in a pleasant enough part of London but it was still a nondescript office block on a busy street.
‘These new houses you want to build,’ Nessa continued, ‘are they homes that local people like me can afford?’
‘Probably,’ said Gabriel, getting to his feet and wishing that he had given breakfast a miss. He pictured the four luxury apartments planned, their balconies complete with hot tubs overlooking the ocean, and shook his head. ‘Probably not. But they’ll bring money into the area.’
‘Only at weekends, when the homeowners aren’t in London or wherever they usually live. Or they’ll be let as holiday homes.’ She took a deep breath as though she’d rehearsed what she was going to say. ‘Do you realise that people like me can’t find places to live locally because we can’t compete with the huge sums people will pay to stay here for a week or two?’
‘I’m sure that’s difficult but—’
‘Difficult? You have no idea. All I want is a decent place that Lily and I can call our own.’
She was almost crying now and Gabriel had a bizarre urge to step forward and put his arms around her. Though he had no doubt that she’d punch him if he tried.
‘I’m sure you do, but the situation round here isn’t my fault.’ He felt a rush of irritation. This woman’s problems weren’t his and her attempt to guilt-trip him wasn’t going to work. ‘Anyway, this conversation is getting us nowhere and I really must get on,’ he said curtly. ‘I think you’ll find that it’s better to accept the inevitable in life rather than pointlessly rail against it.’ Then, he added: ‘Thank you for the breakfast,’ because, however infuriating this woman was, he’d been brought up to have good manners.
But he walked out of the conservatory without saying goodbye. He was glad to see the back of Nessa and, from the look on her face, the feeling was mutual.