Restoring Grace (51 page)

Chapter Twenty-one

 
The following Monday morning, they
assembled in the hall of Luckenham House.

‘
Right, Demi. That's the bag you want for tonight?’

Demi nodded. She and
Ellie hadn't actually told Grace
that Demi was going to stay with her
mother yet. They didn't want to panic her.

‘OK. We'd better get in the car. I'll come back
after dropping you at the bus, let the men in, and then move
out.' She frowned. 'I really don't want to go! It
seems
cruel to leave the house to have a major operation and not even be
with it.'

‘
It's not a
pet, Grace,' said Ellie, who had butterflies in
her stomach at the
prospect of staying with Ran. 'It's a house.'

‘
It's like a
human to me,' said Grace. 'Well, sort of,' she
added, when she realised
how sentimental she had
sounded. 'Anyway,
we must dash or you'll miss the bus.'

‘
Goodbye,
house!' said Demi. 'See you soon!’

It was only when they
were nearly at the bus stop that Demi said casually, 'Oh, by the way, Grace. I
thought I'd
spend a couple of nights at Mum's. She's
picking me up after college.'

‘
What? Demi!
Why didn't you tell me? Anyway, I
thought your room had been turned into
a gym!' Grace
slowed the car so she could
concentrate on this new crisis.
Apart
from not wanting to stay at Flynn's on her own,
an awful doubt occurred to her: was Demi really going
to stay with her mother, or was she thinking of
sneaking
back to Rick's? And how could she find out without looking as
if she didn't trust her? 'I didn't think you'd want to go home!'

‘
She's got
a spare room, and I thought I should go and
check in with her, just for
a little while. So she can see that I'm doing my college work and stuff.'

‘Demi—'

‘It's all right, Grace. Mum really is
collecting me. You can phone her if you like. I rang her the other day. Ellie
suggested it. She said if I volunteered to go home for a couple of nights, Mum
would be impressed and worry less.’

A twinkle of light flickered in Grace's brain.
Ellie suggested it, did she? Hmm. And not just so Demi and Hermia could have
some quality mother-daughter time, either.

‘
You and
Ellie aren't throwing me together with Flynn,
are you?’

Demi managed a look of pure innocence. 'Grace!
Now would we do a thing like that?'

‘
Yes! Now
hurry. There's the bus coming down the
road.’

Grace drove back towards
the centre of town slowly
and thoughtfully. Could she still
stay with Flynn when the others weren't going to be there? Or, a more difficult
question, how could she tell Flynn that she
wasn't going
to stay with him because the others weren't going to be
there? He had been quite forceful when she'd initially
refused to accept his hospitality, when he'd taken her out
to
dinner. She wasn't frightened of him, she could never be that, but there was
something a little awe-inspiring
about the
thought of explaining that she was finding bed
and breakfast
accommodation rather than spend a few nights under his roof.

‘Sometimes I wish I lived in Victorian times,'
she muttered, scanning the rows of cars in the car park,
her, but it was
the vain attempt of someone trying to
 
appear pleased
as the dentist asks them to open wide,
drill in hand.

looking for a space. 'There'd be none of this
nonsense then! We'd just live with the dry rot. Ah! A space!’

As she locked up the car
she wondered whether talking
to yourself was
a sign of madness if no one caught you
at it.

Her first errand was at
the bank, where she had
arranged to get her jewellery out of
the vault. She then had an appointment with a jeweller, who was going to value
and then sell it for her. She thought it might be worth about five thousand
pounds.

Then her plan ran out, and
she didn't have another
one. How was
she going to raise twenty thousand pounds
in a
week? It didn't seem possible. The thought of loan sharks, which she had always
rejected out of hand, suddenly seemed a real option.

Two hours later she drove back to her house,
having discovered that nothing was worth quite what it should
be, because it was too modern, or too old, or in
an unfash
ionable style, but that
five thousand pounds was a fairly
accurate estimate. As to the rest of
the money, she
wondered if there was a
little bit of garden she could sell. Someone might want space for a few chickens,
or a goat?
But who would pay
thousands of pounds for a few square
yards? No one.

When she got to the house, she found the
woodwork-
treatment men already there,
getting stuff out of their van.
They
had protective clothing and masks with them. It all looked extremely sinister.
And, strangely, Flynn's friend,
Pete, was also there.

‘Flynn asked me to come along and plumb in the
Rayburn while all this lot's going on,' he said.

‘
That was
nice of him,' said Grace, wondering how she
could possibly pay for Pete
on top of everything else.

‘
He's
waiting for you back at his house.' Pete continued.

‘
Is he? I'll be along as soon as I've
sorted out these people.' She tried to smile as the foreman approached

Chapter
Twenty-two

 
Grace sat in the car for a few moments,
psyching herself
up to
knocking on Flynn's door. She would have stayed
there longer, only he came out of the house and round to
her side of the car. Feeling that he might
physically
wrench her from it, she got out of her own accord.

‘
Hello, Flynn,' she said, overcome with shyness.

‘
Hello, you.
How lovely to see you!' He wrapped his
arms around her and hugged her
tightly. 'Come in.’

There was something extremely nice about being
welcomed in this way, Grace acknowledged as she
picked
up her handbag and her post
while Flynn got her bag
out of the boot.

‘
But I mustn't get used to it,' she said aloud.
'What's that?' Flynn called from the doorstep.

‘
This personal service,' called Grace. 'I mustn't get
used
to it.' It was a convincing sounding lie and she
smiled.

‘I don't see why you shouldn't,' said Flynn as
Grace joined him on the doorstep. He seemed to be replying to
what she'd really said, and not what she'd
pretended
to say.

‘Do you think I should employ a butler at
Luckenham House, then?' she said.

He ushered her into the kitchen. 'Not
necessarily. But someone to carry your bags for you, from time to time, would
be no bad thing. Now, coffee?'

‘Yes, please. I saw Pete, by the way.'

‘Oh, good.'

‘
He said
you'd sent him to plumb in the Rayburn. You
must let me have a bill when
he's finished.'

‘
It's a present.'

‘
No,' she said firmly.
'It can't be. I can pay him myself.
You gave me the Rayburn in the first
place, and made it cook. You don't need to plumb it in for me. Not literally,
of course.' She laughed, hoping to give the impression that the whole matter of
who paid for the plumbing was on a par with who paid for lunch at the pub.

‘
I could
have done it myself. I've done similar jobs
many times. In fact,' he said, pouring coffee beans into a
grinder,
'there are very few jobs I can't or haven't done
myself. Electrics, plumbing, building, joinery, I've done
it all
in my time.'

‘
You're a useful man.'

‘
Yes, I am.' He regarded her intently, as if there was a
subtext he was willing her to understand.

‘
Shame you don't do dry-rot treatment.'

‘
I have done that, but not on the scale that you've got
it in Luckenham House. I had a word with Pete.
He's
seen it and he agreed you'd always have to get professionals in to
do that, especially in an historic building.' He ground the beans and Grace sat
down, idly sorting her post, wondering if there was anything except junk mail
in it.

‘
I suppose so.’

`But, of course, it is fantastically
expensive,' he went on.

Grace looked up. 'Well, there for once my
sister did some good! They're going to use Luckenham House in
their brochure — because it's so beautiful and
the dry rot
is so bad, I suppose — and she negotiated five grand off the
price! Imagine that! I could never have done it. I'm hopeless with things like
that. Although it did mean we had to have them when they were free to come.
They'd had a cancellation.'

‘
So how are you going to
pay for it?' he asked casu
ally, as if this had been the topic of conversation.

Startled,
Grace looked at him. 'It's all right! I've just sold all my jewellery.'

‘What, all
of it?'

‘
I didn't wear it. It
was in the bank. I put it there when
Edward left.' She glanced down at
her fingers, remembering how she hadn't wanted the things he had given her with
love reminding her how he didn't love her any more.

‘
Thirty grand's worth? Good for Edward.’

Grace laughed. 'No! Not thirty grand's worth!
But five grand's worth. I think that's a lot.'

‘
So do I.'
Flynn appeared impressed for an instant before
he went on, 'So how will
you pay for the rest of it?'

‘I just will! Besides, it's none of your
business.' Grace
found herself blushing,
wondering if she'd sounded rude,
wishing this conversation would go
away.

‘
But you're my business,
Grace,' he said softly.
'Am
I?’

He nodded,
bringing the tray of coffee to the table. 'What happens to you matters to me.'

‘Oh.'

‘
So I'd be very happy
to lend you – give you, in fact,
but I know you wouldn't accept that –
the money for the dry rot. I know you don't want to borrow it from your
sister.'

‘And how do you know I haven't got the money in
my
current account?' Grace tried to hide
her confusion behind
false indignation.

‘
Because you
wouldn't be giving wine-tasting evenings,
sitting on tea chests and selling your jewellery if you had.
Do
you want milk?'

‘
Black with
sugar, please.' A cup of strong coffee might
be just what she needed to help her cope with Flynn. This
whole
situation would have been so much easier if theyhadn't slept together.
Although, when she glanced up at
him,
sipping his coffee, she realised that he was perfectly
relaxed. It was only she who felt awkward, unsure
of the
etiquette. Would he usher her to a spare room, as she hoped? Or
would he take it for granted that she would share with him?

‘
I've got to
pop out for a short time,' he said. 'Why
don't I show you where I've put you, let you sort your
self out,
and then take you out for lunch?'

‘You're always taking me out for meals. I
should cook you something,' said Grace, relieved at the implication that she
was being given a room of her own.

‘
Can 'you cook?'

‘No.' She
laughed. 'Cheese on toast suit you?'

‘
Admirably, it's just my colour, but I fancy something
a bit more substantial and there's a new
restaurant I want
to try. It's a bit of a drive, but it should be worth
it.'