Coral's breath caught in her throat at the sight of Declan Madison making his way in through the just-opened blue and gold iron gates. ‘Hello! Wow, when you said you were coming down today, I didn't realise you meant this early!'
Oh, but it was so nice to see him again. She knew he and Lily had been in regular contact, but when he'd called Lily yesterday to let them know he was coming, Coral's heart had done that skippety-excited thing and it had felt both thrilling and scary. But common sense had prevailed; as she'd decided after that sleepless night following his first visit, since nothing could come of it, she was simply going to regard him as a practice run and enjoy the fact that her body was showing signs of coming back to life.
Nick wouldn't mind, she was sure. He would approve.
She greeted Declan with a kiss on the cheek and breathed him in. Hopefully with enough discretion to ensure he didn't notice.
‘I'm early for a reason. Where's Lily?'
‘Driving a vanload of parcels over to the depot. She'll be back by ten. We weren't expecting you before eleven.'
‘OK, it'll be done by then.' Declan checked his wristwatch, then glanced over at Marty, who was making himself a coffee in the office. ‘Do you have to be right here, or could Marty hold the fort for forty minutes?'
Coral found herself transfixed by his gaze, by the something unspoken he seemed to be signalling to her with his dark-ringed steel-grey eyes. For a micro-second she wondered if Declan was suggesting that Marty might like to hold the fort while he whisked her upstairs to her bedroom for forty minutes of wild, glorious, spectacular-
No, no, of course that wasn't what he was suggesting. Honestly, what was happening to her? It was like all her hormones had woken up after a hundred years and started going completely haywire.
All of a fluster she said, ‘Of course he can. Marty can hold anything.' Good God, my hormones have turned into innuendo-laden teenagers. ‘I mean, it's fine, we're not busy, most people don't start coming in until mid-morning. What is it you want?'
Oh phew, and there was that smile again; he really did have a way with him. Not to mention a girlfriend.
‘Come with me and I'll show you.' As he spoke, Declan lightly touched her arm. ‘I'm in need of your expertise.'
The Valentine Hotel was just outside Stanton Langley. When you reached the traffic lights at the end of the high street and turned left on to Norton Road, the hotel was five hundred metres further along on the right. As Declan pulled into the car park, the possibility that he'd booked a room for them bounced into Coral's head like an exuberant puppy. OK, stop this, stop it right now, you're being ridiculous. The next second, she saw the sign next to the entrance announcing that the local estate agent was holding a property auction here today.
There, see? Calm down, woman. Get a grip.
The auction was taking place in the Wedding Room, complete with glittering chandeliers, full-length ivory silk curtains and light sprinklings of confetti on the polished oak parquet floor, left over from last night's party. Most of the assembled bidders, by way of contrast, were a lot less glamorous.
‘This one,' Declan murmured, pointing to the number in the catalogue. ‘Lily told me about it yesterday. What do you think?'
They'd taken up positions at the back of the room. His warm breath in her ear was doing nothing whatsoever to calm Coral's heart rate. He was considering buying a house on the edge of the village? Right here in Stanton Langley?
Oh, come on, idiot, he's a property developer.
‘To do up and sell? Good idea!' She bent her head over the catalogue so he couldn't see her face and realise she'd been thinking rogue thoughts. ‘It's a bit of a mess, but easy enough to renovate. Old Malcolm lived there, but he died at Easter. Sad, but he was ninety-three.'
‘And do you know any of these people?' Declan discreetly indicated the rest of the room. ‘I'm the outsider here. Any information gratefully received.'
He was wearing the same aftershave as before; it smelled delicious on his skin. Gathering herself, Coral glanced around. ‘The three men standing by the door are builders,' she whispered. ‘The tall woman in the red shirt runs a holiday lettings business. Those two over there are a husband and wife team who do buy-to-let. And the skinny guy at the front works for his dad; they're in property development too.'
‘Thanks.'
‘I don't know any of the others.'
‘That's fine. If I'm bidding with them, can't go too far wrong. It's the one-off buyers who fall in love with somewhere and get carried away that you don't want to go up against.'
Coral nodded, impressed by his professional attitude. ‘Do you get butterflies when you're bidding?'
Declan shook his head. ‘I've been doing it for too long. That doesn't happen any more. I'm used to it.'
Of course he would be by now. Gosh, he was so cool.
Lily saw Declan and Coral making their way into the yard. ‘There you are! Where have you two been?'
‘Hello.' Declan greeted her with a hug. ‘Sorry, there was just a little something I needed to do.'
‘What kind of something?' said Lily, because he was looking incredibly pleased with himself.
He held up a bunch of keys on a cheap plastic key ring. ‘Just bought a house.'
She stared at him. ‘What?'
‘Weaver's Cottage.' Coral was grinning.
‘Oh my God, that's amazing!' Lily let out a shriek of delight. ‘You actually did it!'
‘You were right about it,' said Declan. ‘It has real potential.' He jangled the keys. ‘I'm heading back over there now.'
Oh, this was exciting. ‘Can I come and have a look at it with you? We're not busy here.' She looked at Coral. ‘Is that OK?'
‘Go on,' said Coral. ‘It's fine.'
Declan said, ‘Brace yourself, though. The rooms are very purple.'
But when they reached the cottage, all the work that needed doing seemed straightforward enough. Having been assured by Coral that Dempsey's was the best local building contractor by far, Declan had approached Bill Dempsey at the auction and arranged to meet him at the property. Within twenty minutes, as they made their way through the brightly painted rooms discussing ideas and taking pages of notes and measurements, he'd hired Bill to do the work that needed to be done. Ten minutes after that, he'd put calls through to the best local landscape gardener, the best painter and decorator and the best kitchen fitters in the area.
‘Blimey,' said Lily, impressed. ‘You don't hang about, do you?'
‘Ah well, time is money.' Declan looked amused.
Lily pointed to the narrow window at the side of the cottage, which had no view to speak of but would get the sun in the morning. ‘You could use stained glass in that frame.'
‘Can you find some for me?' said Declan.
‘Definitely. Or there's a guy in Chipping Norton who makes it. You could commission your own design … and this could be Coral wanting me to get back.'
It wasn't Coral. When Lily saw who was calling, she said, ‘Oh, let me just take this,' and slipped outside, leaving Declan and Bill to discuss lintels and stripped-out door frames.
‘Hi,' said Eddie Tessler.
‘Calling me again in the middle of the night? More jet lag?'
‘Maybe, but I'm about to solve that problem.'
Her ear was still tingling from the sound of his voice. ‘And how are you planning on doing that?'
‘By flying back to the place whose time zone I'm compatible with. What are you up to tomorrow night?'
Caught off guard, Lily said, ‘You're coming back to Stanton Langley?' Oh God, what a stupid thing to say. Of course he wasn't doing that.
Eddie laughed and she felt even more ridiculous.
‘Not quite, but I'm flying into Heathrow. Now listen, would you be free?'
She proceeded with caution. ‘To do what?'
‘You told me the other week you'd always fancied the idea of going to a movie premiere, remember?'
‘I remember. And you said they were boring.'
‘And you said maybe I thought they were boring because I was a miserable old sod.'
Oh yes, she did remember coming out with something along those lines. Lily batted away a hovering wasp and said, ‘Bit rude of me. Sorry about that.'
‘No problem. So how about it?'
‘How about what?' She held her breath; no way was she about to jump to conclusions and make a twit of herself twice in two minutes.
‘I'm going to the premiere of Catcher in Leicester Square tomorrow night.' Patiently he spelled it out for her. ‘You told me you'd always wanted to go to a premiere. So would you like to come along with me to this one?'
Ask a silly question.
‘Seriously? I'd love to. You mean I'd actually get to walk along the red carpet?' Oh wow, this was thrilling …