Dream a Little Dream (17 page)

‘I included you because I’m hoping you’ll do me a favour and bring your performing dog. Shona went on and on about Crosswind skateboarding. We’re really on a shoestring, we can’t afford a conjuror or clown, and the place will be swarming with kids. They’d love him.’

‘But if there are fireworks—’

‘They’ll be in the evening. I’m talking about something for the kids in the afternoon.’

‘Crosswind isn’t really an act—’

‘No, Miranda tells me that he’s just a natural superstar who loves an audience. I’m hoping that, you know, you could let the kids have something to watch for twenty minutes or so.’ Having cut across his every sentence with smooth precision, her eyes had softened, now, cajoling, hopeful.

Incredibly difficult to resist.

Especially when Miranda chimed in, ‘And you know how Crosswind loves to show off, Dom.’

Damn. He sighed. ‘I’ll bring Crosswind for a quick visit. But you don’t have to invite me to your wedding.’

‘It’s more of a party. The actual wedding ceremony is at noon, just us, the kids, and close family. And I wouldn’t be so rude as to exclude you. Miranda tells me that you’re probably going to rent a flat in Little Dallas, so you’re already a villager. I know it’s short notice, but that’s Justin for you. No sooner does he decide to do something then he acts.’ Cleo shifted Gus up onto her shoulder, where he lay as still as a doll, whilst she rubbed circles on his back. Her eyes smiled coaxingly. ‘We’d love you to be there.’

He was in no doubt that Cleo meant,
I want to see how Liza is with you,
and decided to leave it to Liza to head her sister off, if she wanted to. He could always make a later excuse
.
An urgent nap, or something. ‘OK. Thanks.’

‘Miranda says you have a friend staying. You can bring him along.’

‘Mummy, can I get down?’ bellowed Ethan.

‘Mummy, can I get down?’ yelled Shona.

‘I’m not sure if he’ll still be here. But thanks.’ Dominic helped himself to more cheese and chutney and grinned at the idea of dragging Kenny along to a stranger’s wedding swarming with kids. It would be so not his thing.

‘
Mummy
—’ Ethan and Shona shouted together.

In the racket of the children being allowed to abandon the table for the sitting room and the delights of Ethan’s toy chest, Dominic excused himself. He’d barely made the hall when the doorbell ding-donged and Kenny let himself in wearing new-looking jeans and shirt. Probably Undead Barbie had been despatched to shop for him. A swathe of shiny red Lycra hung over his shoulder and his trident was tucked under his arm.

Ethan and Shona tumbled over each other to greet the newcomer in the hall. ‘Kenny!’ yelled Ethan, bouncing on the spot. ‘You’re not dressed like red Batman any more. I saw Dommynic dressed like red Batman, this morning, and I beat him in a gedding dressed race, and he had to let me wear the
cloak
!’

Kenny looked at Dominic over Ethan’s head. ‘Still dressed like red batman this morning, was he?’ And, as the children yelled their way back to the toy chest, ‘Stay at Rochelle’s place, Doc?’

From the kitchen, Miranda giggled. ‘Guess again, Kenny.’

Dominic tried to frown down first Miranda and then Kenny. Everyone was showing way too much interest in where he’d chosen to spend last night. And with Liza’s sister listening … ‘I’ve got this meeting with Isabel Jones in an hour. Any chance you could take my car and drop our costumes back in Peterborough? They have to be handed back by five or we forfeit the deposit.’

‘OK,’ Kenny said, slowly. ‘I’m not needed in this meeting?’

Dominic felt suddenly awkward. He’d asked Kenny up to give his opinion on the site for his project, but today’s meeting was about money, not where to build the kayak shed. ‘Not this one, Ken.’ He glanced at his watch and started for the stairs.

But Kenny didn’t step aside to give Dominic room. Instead, he dropped his voice. ‘Liza, presumably?’

Dominic stared at his friend, surprised to detect ice in the words. ‘No reason why not, is there?’

‘Because you know I’m taking her out to dinner? With
you and Rochelle
?’ Anger was tightening the skin around Kenny’s eyes.

‘Rochelle kind of put me on the spot about dinner,’ Dominic pointed out, reasonably, wishing he’d pulled the kitchen door shut behind him so that their conversation was no more public than it had to be. ‘I didn’t exactly say yes – just that it sounded OK. No arrangement was made.’

‘An arrangement
was
made – between me and Liza.’

Dominic sighed. ‘Kenny, I don’t have time for this. I have a meeting. Anyway, Liza said “Could be fun.” That’s not an arrangement.’ Then, as Kenny’s eyes blazed, he felt his own anger kindling. ‘Sorry if I stepped on your toes, mate, but you didn’t bother to check out the position with me and Liza before you barged in, so no complaints, eh?’ He tried to diffuse the situation with a grin. ‘And you went home with Undead Barbie, didn’t you?’

‘Only,’ said Kenny, stiffly, ‘after I saw you coming out of a bedroom with Liza. What was your chat up line? “I have a rare sleep disorder, please will you take me to bed?”’

Fury burst like fire deep in Dominic’s guts, clenching his fists. But he smothered it, shoving his hands in his pockets. Mindful of the kids – and, for that matter, Cleo – listening, he contented himself with deadly emphasis. ‘Yeah, right, Kenny, I always wanted a disability, just to give me a cheesy chat up line.’ He clapped Kenny on the shoulder harder than was necessary. ‘I see you’ll use any weapon. All’s fair in love and war, eh?’

After a moment, Kenny gave a crooked smile. ‘Yeah, Doc. All’s fair in love and war.’

As Dominic brushed past and up the stairs, he heard Cleo remarking drily, ‘Men snapping at each other over my sister. Quite like old times.’

Well, why settle for awkward when you could have total cringing embarrassment? In the safety of his room, he dialled the number Rochelle had lodged in his phone last night as he grabbed his jacket, wallet and keys. And ProPlus, in case nobody offered him coffee and he needed a caffeine hit.

‘Hi,’ said Rochelle, in his ear.

Dominic thanked her for the party, then decided that there was no way of saying what he had to say other than directly. ‘Rochelle, I feel a bit awkward about this, but I’m not sure that the dinner we talked about is going to come off.’

Rochelle laughed. ‘Did it help?’

‘Sorry?’

‘I’m not stupid, Dominic. I did notice that you blanked out of our conversation once Liza walked back into the room. I just said it to give Liza something to think about.’

Cautiously, sheepishly, he admitted, ‘It might have helped.’

‘I don’t mind if it did,’ she said, generously. And, honestly, ‘But I wouldn’t have minded if it hadn’t, either.’ Then, more seriously, ‘Give Liza a bit of slack, though, won’t you? She was never that great at relationships, even before Adam.’

He laughed, shortly. ‘She’s made it pretty clear that we’re not in a relationship, so slack is kind of a given.’

Despite the bench in Peterborough’s Cathedral Square feeling as if it wouldn’t be out of place in an igloo, as the departing sun drained the colour from the day, Liza had had to sit down and gather her thoughts.

She’d heard on the news that banks were being stingy with their lending, but she hadn’t anticipated quite what it meant until Emily, a suited young banker, had taken Liza, burdened with the two awkward drawstring bags that held the hornet costume she must return this afternoon, into a claustrophobic little office behind a wall of ATMs. She examined Liza’s proposal at the speed of light, enquired about things Liza didn’t have, then broke the bad news with a regretful smile. ‘I’m afraid that without adequate security, this proposition isn’t going to fall within our parameters.’

Liza had made the appointment more in optimism than expectation, but the words still burst open a crevasse of disappointment at her feet. ‘I suppose that if I’d made a couple of decades’ worth of mortgage payments rather than a couple of years, there would have been enough money in my house to make it worth the bank’s while to repossess it if I failed on the loan payments?’

Emily smiled sympathetically. ‘We usually speak in terms of whether there’s sufficient equity, but that’s more or less it, yes. You’ve demonstrated that you can meet the rent; it’s the loan for the premium that’s the problem – putting it simply, you’re asking for too much money. There’s no way for me to know whether you’ll make enough profit to service such large repayments. Another option would be that someone in your family give us a guarantee for the loan, with enough equity for a second mortgage to support it.’

Liza thought about her parents’ reaction if she suggested they put their home at risk for her, and snorted. ‘That’s not going to happen.’

‘Then, I’m sorry but …’ Emily refreshed her sympathetic expression. She probably got a lot of
practice
. ‘Is there anything else I can do for you, today?’

Liza bit back the impulse to say, ‘No, just give me the bloody loan!’ And, gathering her bags of slutty hornet, left.

It was Dominic’s interest in The Stables that had caused the lease premium to become stupidly inflated. And her conscience, which had been jabbing her about spending last night naked and sweaty with him but not mentioning her appointment at the bank, could be quiet. The field was now clear for him to take her Stables and make a huge success of his business – while she slaved through the process of locating new premises, keeping client numbers up and relocation costs down.

If he hadn’t arrived on the scene—

He wouldn’t have melted her bones. She shivered at the memory of last night. The ways he had touched her. The velvet of his tongue. Temptation had been fierce, but giving in to it had tangled together business and pleasure.

She sighed. She almost felt down enough to excuse a chocolate Brazil nut flapjack. But loss of the slutty hornet hire deposit loomed large in her mind and, a sigh hanging white in the crisp air in front of her, she persuaded frozen legs to propel her stiffly in the direction of the hire shop.

The shop windows were full of pink fairy and yellow chicken costumes, punctuated by an exceptionally sincere Barack Obama mask. Pushing open the glass door, she nearly collided with Kenny King coming the other way. ‘Hey, Liza!’ He gave her a kiss on the cheek, and then a hug. ‘Bringing your hot costume back?’

Liza stepped aside to let him out. ‘I guess you’re doing the same?’

He stayed exactly where he was. ‘Yeah, Doc was bleating about getting it back so we didn’t lose our deposit.’

‘I don’t want to lose mine, either.’ But Liza didn’t intend to shimmy between him and the wall to reach the counter and the lady hovering behind it. ‘Excuse me.’

He gave way, but only to move back into the shop along with her. ‘So, we still on for dinner?’

‘Um …’ Liza hoisted her bags up onto the wooden counter, where the silver-haired lady assistant wore a waiting smile, opening the drawstrings so that the costume could be inspected: the hated wings of wire in one and the dress-of-uncomfortability in the other. ‘I need to return this, please, and get my friend’s deposit back for her.’

‘Receipt, dear?’

‘She still has it.’

‘Oh.’ The silver-haired lady’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I can’t really go giving you someone else’s deposit, dear.’

Liza could see perfectly well that it was dodgy to give her Rochelle’s money, but elected to embroil herself in a long discussion about it in the hopes that Kenny would become bored or remember that his parking ticket was about to expire or something. But, no. All through a phone call to Rochelle, who was perfectly willing to call in with the receipt and collect the deposit herself, Kenny waited, hands tucked comfortably into the front pockets of a navy hoodie with
Wilderness trail tramp
stitched up one sleeve.

The receipt/deposit crisis over, Liza punched more buttons on her phone, paused as if reading a message and went, ‘Oops!’ Then she swung on Kenny and brushed a kiss vaguely in the vicinity of his cheek, an unmistakeable dismissal. ‘Got to run.’ And ran, the dinner question successfully avoided.

The meeting with Isabel Jones went well.

Until it didn’t.

Isabel was exactly the type Dominic liked to deal with – cool, calm, controlled, commonsensical and with the power to make her own decisions, getting the conversation on-topic even as she showed him to a tubular metal-and-cream leather chair. ‘Prior to this meeting, I spoke to Nicolas Notten to check he’s willing to sell the lease, and shared views with relevant others in our organisation.’ She seated herself in the power chair behind the desk, big, black, padded and swivelling. ‘So there’s nothing to stop me listening to your plans.’ She smiled. Her royal blue suit would have looked over bright and unbiz on anyone with less confidence. But confidence didn’t seem to be an Isabel Jones issue. Thirty-something, her glossy dark hair swept down to her shoulders and her spike heels made her almost as tall as Dominic. He might have thought her hot if he wasn’t currently into quirky, snippy little blondes.

Following her lead, he moved straight into his pitch. ‘I want to open an adventure and challenge centre. The lake’s ideal for paddle sports, the slope for mountain biking, all-terrain skateboarding and an assault course. And there’s enough flat ground by the lake for archery, if I put up screens.’ His iPad, containing his notes, lay on the desk, but his plan was as clear in his mind as the holding points on Stansted’s taxiways.

Isabel made rapid notes in black pen on ruled white paper. ‘So, who do you see as your customers? Corporate teambuilders?’

He nodded. ‘They’ve got to be core because it’s such big business. But also school groups, youth organisations and weekend Rambos.’

She nodded. ‘The corporate groups and weekenders would certainly benefit us in terms of reciprocality.’

‘How do you see that working?’ A useful phrase taught on one of his courses for when he wanted the other party to fill in blanks in his knowledge.

‘In the most fundamental terms – your customers becoming our guests. Weekend Rambos might book rooms or dine with us, possibly bringing partners along. Corporate customers might also do those things, plus hire conferencing facilities.’

‘Plus, you’ll get the rental income.’

‘Which has to be considered,’ she agreed. ‘So tell me how you see your project.’

The floor was his. He talked about finance, insurance, advertising, Kenny managing the instructor side, mentally ticking boxes as every point was covered. He felt clear-headed and focused, relishing the sensation of doing something instead of hanging around Miranda’s place, making plans.

Isabel nodded and noted and he was just congratulating himself on getting her on board, when she said, ‘So how do you envisage tying the adventure centre in to The Stables?’

He paused, wondering how that could not be obvious. ‘The building will house the team room, changing rooms, equipment storage, and, of course, the kitchens and toilets.’

But Isabel was frowning. ‘How are you going to shoehorn that lot in with the treatment centre?’

A snake of doubt wriggled in the pit of his stomach and coiled itself up like a threat. He wasn’t sure why it was there but it seemed that the obvious must, indeed, be stated. ‘The adventure centre will replace the treatment centre. I’ve no intention of running the two together.’

Slowly, Isabel Jones capped her pen, laid it down on her high-gloss desk and leaned back. ‘Then we can’t do business.’

They stared at each other. Dominic tried to read what was going on behind her dramatically made-up eyes whilst his mind cast around for where the meeting had derailed. ‘Shall we back up a step?’ he began.

Smoothly, she overrode him. ‘I’m sorry, this isn’t negotiable. The treatment centre must be part of The Stables. It’s in our brochures.’