You And Me, Always(26)

‘And then the woman came back from the loo and slipped the gun into the  pocket of the red-headed guy who'd just got on the train. Which would  explain why there were crumbs in his pocket when they found his body on  the tracks.'

There was a framed painting on the wall above his head, a pretty garden  scene in acrylics that Coral had painted a few years back, before Nick  had died and she'd abruptly abandoned her hobby. For a moment Lily  fantasised about seizing it in both hands and bringing it crashing down,  cartoon-style, on Dan's head.

‘Oh! Unless the crumbs are something to do with the parrot  … ' said Dan.

‘Are you listening to me?' Lily demanded. ‘Did you even hear what I just said?'

Dan looked at her. Finally he nodded. ‘He called you.'

‘Yes!'

‘And this is interesting because?'

‘It's interesting because you told me he wouldn't. But he did. I mean,  no big deal.' She shrugged casually, to demonstrate just how small a  deal it was, because it wasn't as if she'd been desperate for Eddie  Tessler to get back in touch. ‘I'm just letting you know, seeing as you  were so sure it wouldn't happen.'

‘So you were right and I was wrong.' Dan smiled briefly. ‘And this makes you happy, I can tell.'

‘It always makes me happy when you're wrong.'

‘Go on then, tell me. Am I right about the handgun being hidden inside the bread?'

No way was she letting him get away with changing the subject. ‘Yes,  that's exactly how it happened. Clever you. So anyway, Eddie called me  yesterday from LA, while I was bidding at the auction. He was pretty  funny. And then we had a long chat. Like, for aaaages. He was really  interested to hear about Declan, too.'

‘What time was this? Late morning? Midday?'

‘Yes. Why?'

‘Pretty standard,' said Dan. ‘He's in LA, suffering from jet lag, lying  in bed and wide awake at four in the morning with no one over there he  can call.'

Lily narrowed her eyes. ‘He called me because he'd missed talking to me.'

‘Correction, he told you he called because he'd missed talking to you.'

‘And he's texted me since then.' This was true; she'd sent him the photo  of her mum and Declan as teenagers on the beach and Eddie had texted  back: Amazing!

Which wasn't much, but technically it counted as a reply. And it wasn't as if Eddie didn't have other things on his mind.

‘Texted,' said Dan. ‘Great.'

‘He had lunch with Sandra Bullock yesterday.' The logical part of her  knew he was being like this on purpose, refusing to seem impressed. But  deep down he had to be. And she needed to tell him. It was like when you  met someone at a party and they said super-casually, ‘Oh yeah, I met  Shakin' Stevens at a petrol station once, we were queuing up at the  checkout together  …  I said hi to him and he said hi back, seemed like a  really nice chap.'

Only much better, of course.

Shakin' Stevens or Eddie Tessler?

Be honest, which one would you rather boast about knowing?

‘At the Chateau Marmont,' Lily continued in the face of Dan's apparent  lack of interest. Eddie hadn't told her where they were eating, but it  had been easy enough to find out. Easy, too, to delete her Google search  history afterwards, which was something she would always do from now  on. ‘They're probably going to do a film together. Directed by James  Cameron. What?' she said impatiently, because he was giving her one of  his looks.

‘You. Have you joined the Eddie Tessler fan club yet? When he flies back  here, will you be waiting at the airport with a giant placard, jumping  up and down and screaming his name?'

‘Yes, that's exactly what I'll be doing.' Lily could feel herself  getting irritated all over again. If Dan could have heard Eddie's voice  yesterday when he'd said how much he'd missed talking to her, he  wouldn't be making fun of her like this.                       
       
           



       

‘Hey, don't be cross with me.' Reaching out with his uninjured leg, Dan  gave her foot a gentle nudge. ‘I'm just saying, that's all. Don't get  carried away.'

‘I didn't know I was.'

‘Well, maybe it's easier for me to see. Maybe you just don't want to  admit it. But deep down, I think you do know. The way you talked about  him on Sunday night. The way you're reacting now. It's fine to have a  crush on someone out of reach. I just worry that you're expecting it to  …   you know, lead to something real.'

‘What with me being so physically repulsive, is that what you're trying  to tell me?' OK, now she was really losing patience. ‘Because I'm so  ugly, no half-decent man could possibly be interested?'

‘Oh come on, you know I don't mean that. I'm talking about him, not you.'

‘You met him for all of thirty seconds,' said Lily.

‘He's a man. A man who's used to getting a lot of attention from the opposite sex.'

‘You mean he's exactly like you,' Lily pointed out. ‘God help him.'

‘Maybe so. But I'm just trying to help.'

‘And what you're basically saying is that someone like Eddie would never  be attracted to me.' Dan's habit of plain speaking, Lily discovered,  was altogether less endearing when the person on the receiving end of  his blunt opinions was you.

‘I'm not saying that. I'm just pointing out that it wouldn't be a  relationship that necessarily meant a lot to him. And I wouldn't want to  see you getting hurt.'

‘Hello?' Lily spread her hands in disbelief. ‘Why are you even talking about it like this? There is no relationship!'

‘Right, fine.' Dan sat back, visibly relieved. ‘Well that's a good  thing. Long may it last.' Catching the dangerous glint in her eye, he  smiled and said, ‘For your benefit, not his. You deserve better.'

It was annoying, and she wouldn't dream of ever admitting it, but maybe  he was right. Time to change the subject. ‘Speaking of deserving better,  Patsy's date wasn't a success. She'll be home soon.'

‘Did she say what was wrong with him?'

‘She couldn't. He was there when I rang.'

‘Shall we take bets, then?' Dan's mischievous smile was back, his  attention successfully diverted from the subject of just how far out of  her league Eddie Tessler was. ‘A pound a go, winner takes all?' Counting  off on the fingers of his functioning hand, he said, ‘OK, I'll start.  He made out he was forty but he's actually sixty.'

‘A stranger to deodorant,' said Lily.

‘Wearing a toupee that doesn't match the rest of his hair.'

‘Still married.'

‘Eats with his mouth open.'

‘Describes his dreams in detail.'

‘Wears make-up,' said Dan. ‘Nothing over the top, just a bit of eyeliner, some mascara and a nice lipstick.'

See? Having driven her nuts, he was now making her smile again. How  annoying was it not even being able to stay cross with him for five  minutes?

‘And an electronic tag,' said Lily.

Dan thought for a moment, then said, ‘Or a nappy.'



Weaver's Cottage was dilapidated but not disastrously so. It had three  bedrooms, one the size of a hamster cage. The kitchen was small, the  Formica units ugly and cheap. The wallpaper probably dated from the  1970s, and every room was decorated a different shade of purple, apart  from the bathroom, whose fittings were avocado green and matt with dust.

It was the kind of place that caused many people to grimace in distaste  and hastily move on to look instead at a nice clean semi on a just-built  estate. But Declan, who had been dealing in property for twenty years,  wasn't put off. The Cotswold stone roof didn't have actual holes in it,  the overgrown garden was small but south-facing and the views from the  cottage's elevated position overlooking the valley were indeed  spectacular.

None of this would ever have occurred to him if Lily hadn't happened to  mention it. But she had, and now it almost felt like fate. They'd been  texting and emailing, and yesterday he'd told her about having just been  gazumped at the last minute on a property in Kensington. The deal had  fallen through and now he needed to find somewhere else to invest in.  Lily had said that if he fancied buying something outside of London,  there was a cottage coming up for auction on the edge of their village.  She'd added that it was in a complete state but had fantastic views, and  planning permission, and could look amazing once it was done up.                       
       
           



       

When he'd found the property online, Declan couldn't disagree. He'd  bought country-based properties before, but not for the last few years.  Maybe it would make a nice change to leave behind the hassle of  snarled-up traffic and endless parking problems. It would be a sound  enough investment, he knew that; there was nothing wealthy Londoners  liked more than escaping to a high-spec, beautifully renovated Cotswold  cottage at the weekend as a break from their frantic urban lives.