She shouldn’t have made that passing remark about steering Gina away from boyfriends. She didn’t want to come across as bitter, and most of the time she succeeded, but Aubrey was one of the few people who knew about her ordeal with Riccardo. He was also Gina’s godfather, and so qualified to observe, not that he did that very often. Still. She stuck the brochure in her briefcase, keenly aware that he was looking at her with genuine concern and not really wanting to get into an in-depth conversation about her emotional life.
‘Still seeing that young man of yours?’
Charlotte stood up and raised her eyebrows wryly.
‘I’m twice your age. I’m qualified to give you little lectures about your life. Call it senior citizen advantages.’ He stood up and moved round the desk and briefly put his arm around her shoulder. He was a big man. Tall and, as he enjoyed saying, a fully paid-up member of ‘the fat brigade’. He dwarfed her.
‘I’m taking it slowly with Ben,’ Charlotte told him. ‘He’s a nice guy, but I’m not going to rush anything.’
‘Wise girl. Right, then. I’ll probably be gone by the time you finish this viewing. You have all the details in the folder. It’s a woman. Phone and let me know how it goes, and let’s put a date in the diary for you to come up with the little one for the weekend. Diana says it’s too long since she saw you!’
‘You’ve got a deal.’
‘And feel free to bring the young man…’
‘I’ll have to think about that one. Maybe.’ Introducing him to Aubrey and Di would be like introducing him to family, a big psychological step towards cementing their relationship onto another level. By now, they had enjoyed dinners out, the occasional theatre outing and one Sunday lunch, and she was content to keep it to that level until something kicked in and told her that the time was right to accelerate things. She had only been seeing him for three months. Why rush things along?
‘Is our viewer a local person?’ she asked, walking with Aubrey to the door. ‘Will they be familiar with the property, or do I have to play up the location?’
‘Definitely not from around here, so yes, let’s hear it for the great transport links and rural setting.’
Rural being the operative word, Charlotte thought, as she left behind all vestiges of bustling provincial life and drove out into the country. It was stunning scenery. A profusion of trees raising naked branches upwards, and wintry fields stretching on either side of the winding road. In summer she imagined it would be awash with greenery.
She found herself slowing down so that she could absorb her surroundings. It really didn’t matter how many big houses she walked around in London, none could compare to something in a setting like this because there was no such thing as perfect privacy in the city. You could part with millions and still have neighbours around within shouting distance. Whereas here your millions would buy you all the solitude you could ever need.
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She wouldn’t have minded having a look around the gardens before her viewer but that would have been an indulgence, and she was slightly relieved to find that the option was denied her because, lo and behold, there was her car randomly parked at an angle in the courtyard—a long, very expensive silver Bentley Continental, the sort that cost roughly the same price as some people’s houses. Unfortunately for Charlotte, no one was in it. Nor was the woman anywhere to be seen at the front of the house. Well, there was no way she would be inside, not unless she had decided to embark on a little breaking and entering.
With a sigh of frustration, Charlotte walked back up to the front door and glanced around her, then she set off. She had to look at the brochure to see where the boundaries of the house lay. Frankly none were within sight, and the prospect of trekking through acres of land in search of one errant old lady with more money than sense filled her with dismay.
She was circling the back of the house, vaguely admiring the lawns and the extensive copse behind, which was all part of the package, when she heard his voice from behind her and for the first few seconds she really didn’t recognise it. But only for a few seconds. Then her body froze in utter shock. Just an ordinary, polite apology that he had missed her.
Charlotte turned around and there he was: the man who still visited her in every sweet dream and every nightmare she had had over eight years. God, she had been thinking of him only this morning! Had that been some sort of dreadful, sick premonition? She blinked to dispel the reality of him standing not more than five metres away from her, and then she closed her eyes and, for the first time in her life, she blacked out.