The Antique Love

by Fairfax, Helena

  She brought her gaze back from the mirror. Kurt was quite still, lost in thought, his eyes on some point outside the window behind her. She examined his sturdy profile and knew straightaway it would be impossible to tell him the truth. She couldn’t bear for that instant look of incredulity to cross his face, that reaction which was always closely followed by embarrassed pity. Penny had no film star looks, and she knew it. All she wanted was to be treated as a person in her own right. And she knew as soon as she said her mother’s name, she would lose all confidence in herself. Penny Rosas would be second-best to her mother’s memory once again.

  She let out an involuntary sigh, and Kurt turned immediately, the light from the window trailing dusty gold over his blonde head.

  “Everything okay?” He bent toward her. “Guess you should be heading back to the shop.”

  He regarded her silently for a moment, and the dusty ray of sunlight caught them both in the same wide shaft. He gave a slow, warm smile.

  “I’ve enjoyed our lunch,” he said, breaking the pause. “I knew I’d gotten the right person when I chose you. Here’s to working together.”

  Penny raised the remains of her orange juice. “Here’s to your happy home.”

  She smiled, and her glass sparkled in the pale sunlight from the window.

  * * * *

  Daniel Rosas was in the kitchen making a start on the evening meal when his granddaughter arrived home after work, rain-soaked and weary.

  “Hello, love, you’re early.” As usual, he brightened at the sight of her. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, fine, Granddad.” She pulled off her wet coat. “I don’t need to work so late now, you know. Kurt’s going to help me with the accounts.”

  “Oh yes, the cowboy.”

  The cowboy from White River story had made Penny’s grandfather laugh out loud. Penny always tried to bring home a few light-hearted stories from her day to share with him over their evening meal, and he’d particularly enjoyed hearing about her meeting with Kurt. There was a time when she would have told her granddad everything—all her worries regarding the accounts and David’s aggressive behaviour before he dramatically quit—but these days she kept her problems to herself. Daniel was becoming increasingly frail. Penny had noticed the change in him and could date it from the day of her grandmother’s funeral two years ago. Since then, he had visibly shrunk. It was as though everything was an effort, and Penny was frightened to burden him with her worries in case he became physically ill.

  Kurt’s arrival was a blessing in more ways than one, since she no longer had to fret that her grandfather would discover the wretched state of the shop’s accounts. Penny knew instinctively that Kurt could be relied on to sort through the shop’s books with efficiency and tact.

  “I’m going to see Kurt’s house in Richmond at the weekend,” she told him, hoping to interest him in the project. “I brought home some brochures and stuff.” She lifted the paperwork out of her briefcase and set it on the kitchen table. “Thought you might be interested in helping me with some ideas.”

  It was the sort of project her granddad would normally pounce on with enthusiasm. Although too fragile for the everyday stresses and strains of business, he still shared the same passion for the world of antiques as Penny. So she was dismayed when he cast an absent glance at the documents before turning away.

  “Okay, love, I’ll have a look later…”

  His hands shook slightly as he lifted a saucepan onto the cooker. When Penny stepped toward him, she noticed his lined face was paler than usual.

  “Are you okay, Granddad?”

  He lit a match to the ring and then shook the flame out a little unsteadily. “David came round to see me this afternoon.”

  “David! What did he want?”

  “Said he wanted to give his side of the story. Tell me why he felt he had to leave. When I said you were in charge of the business now, that it was nothing to do with me, he started to get a little belligerent.”

  “He has no right bothering you at home.” Penny strode over to the sink to pour herself a glass of water. “He knows how things are, with Grandma dying and everything. After everything you’ve been through, he should be leaving you in peace to enjoy your retirement.” The water streamed out of the tap in a furious burst.

  “Yes. I know I’m officially retired, but I’m always here if you need help, Penny,” her granddad reminded her. “I’m not senile yet.”

  She turned round to see him leaning against the kitchen units. Suddenly he seemed incredibly fragile. She started forward.

  “I know, Granddad,” she said. “And I appreciate your help. That’s why I brought you the paperwork for Kurt’s house to look at. But as far as the accounts go, David needn’t worry. Kurt’s looking into them now.”

  “That’s what I told David,” he said. His eyes screwed up, and he rushed to finish his sentence. “And that’s when he started losing it. He started saying some terrible things. Said you were a dreamer and a romantic, and you wouldn’t last two minutes in business without him. The chap’s a total dope. You’re well rid of him.”

  Her grandfather caught hold of a chair back and gripped it. Penny hurried to place, her hand over his thin one, feeling the skin pathetically taut over his bones.

  “Granddad, don’t worry about me. I can look after myself. And I told you, I’ve got help anyway. Tehmeena’s great, and I’ve got the head of White River looking at my accounts. I’m doing perfectly well by myself. I don’t need David.”

  Daniel turned to the stove to stir a pan that didn’t need stirring, his hand thin and shaky on the wooden spoon.

  “I don’t doubt you can run that business perfectly well,” he said, more quietly now. He carried on stirring, his slumped back turned toward her. “It’s not that that bothers me. You’re a beautiful person, Penny,” he continued, holding up the spoon to halt her when she would have protested. “I know you don’t think so, and maybe your grandmother and I are to blame for that. You’re not beautiful in the same way your mother was. And your mother wasn’t a romantic like you. She looked like a romantic heroine in all those films, but she could be extremely hard-headed. She was determined to do what she wanted and blow the consequences.”

  He turned round to face her. Penny was staring at him, wide-eyed. Her grandmother had never spoken of her mother in this way. She always made her mother out to be some sort of beautiful, tragic paragon, someone who Penny could never possibly live up to.

  “You’re nothing like your mother but not in the way you think. You have a much warmer heart. And I worry that one day someone is going to break it.” Daniel’s voice broke a little at the end of his speech, and he would have turned away then, but Penny caught hold of his hand and pulled him into a fierce hug.

  “Oh, Granddad,” she said into his old sweater.

  “I know you grew up in your mum’s shadow, Penny,” he said over the top of her head. “But you’re a special person.” He pulled away and looked down into her troubled face. “So don’t let anyone ever make you feel second-best. Not David, not anyone. You’re worth far more than you think you are.”

  Penny stilled for a moment in his embrace, touched by his words. Her grandfather’s extraordinary kindness had helped keep her on an even keel after her parents’ death, but still, it was hard not to feel as though her mother’s legacy was permanently colouring her life. She thought about how she had concealed her identity from Kurt and felt a miserable chill run through her. She knew she should show more courage, but it was difficult living up to a woman who had been fêted as one of the iconic British beauties of the century. Once Kurt met that ideal woman of his, he would be moving out of her life, and in the meantime, as cowardly as she knew it was, it was easier not to say anything.

  “It’s okay, Granddad.” She turned back to the table, hiding the pain in her expression and keeping her tone light. “You don’t have to worry about anyone breaking this old heart. It’s too tough now for all that.”

&
nbsp; She began laying the table mechanically. If she’d turned round then, she would have seen that her words had failed to reassure her grandfather in the way she intended. If anything, he looked more distressed. He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again, turning to the stove to begin serving out their meal.

  Chapter Four

  The following weekend found Penny in the bathroom in Kurt’s house, staring at the bidet, hands covering her face. She peered in dismay over the tips of her fingers. For a couple of seconds, neither of them spoke. Kurt took a step nearer, gazing down into the hideously patterned bowl.

  “So, what period would you say?” His voice was deadpan, but when he raised his eyes, they were dancing at the sight of her pained expression.

  She lifted her head to scan the bathroom. The hideous pattern was repeated over and over again in the tiles, from floor to ceiling.

  “Late eighties,” she said at last, with a stunned shake of the head. “Late eighties gone horribly, horribly wrong.” The colour was salmon pink, the pattern was tiny and floral and everywhere. The result was suffocating. “I’m glad I came to see all this for myself,” she continued. “I didn’t get the full effect in the estate agent’s brochure.”

  “No,” Kurt agreed with a laugh. “Estate agents don’t usually state the full effect.”

  He led the way out of the master bathroom and onto the landing. Here, the beautiful floorboards were still intact, but the original oak grain was suffocated by too dark a shade of varnish. The space should have been magnificently light and airy since an enormous arched window lit up the stairwell, but the walls were painted a depressing combination of hunter green and cream.

  Penny made her way with care down the first uncarpeted stairs to a bend in the staircase, and stopped to gaze out of the window. Below was a large, rather untidy garden, bordered by a stone wall. Beyond the wall lay all the glory of Richmond Park. A faint mist rose from the park’s grasslands, and a pale yellow sun was attempting to dispel the damp. In the distance, she could see a huddle of deer, their antlers waving regally. It was a bucolic country scene. Hard to believe they were only a few miles from the City.

  “I don’t think anyone could ever tire of this view,” Kurt said.

  He had moved behind her, and when Penny turned her head, she found her eyes more or less level with his chin. His gaze was fixed on the scene below. Trapped as she was between Kurt’s broad chest and the window, there was nowhere for Penny to retreat. She turned her head to examine the view outside, trying to ignore the warmth of his body at her back and pressed herself closer to the glass.

  It had been mostly easy that morning to avoid getting too close. There was plenty of room in the empty, cavernous house for Penny to take a few steps away whenever she needed. But although it was easy to put physical space between them, no matter where Kurt was in the house, Penny had been aware of him. He said very little, his movements slow and self-contained, and yet he possessed a solid presence which filled the very air around her. Alone in the empty house, Penny was finally forced to recognise the strength of her physical response to him.

  She concentrated on the scene below, watching the mist weave and settle over the beech trees. She had thought Kurt, too, was lost in the view, but when she stirred beside him, lifting a hand to rest against the window-frame, he surprised her by responding instantly.

  “Guess you must be tired.” He touched her shoulder. “Seems like you’ve written a whole novel this morning.”

  * * * *

  Kurt had found Penny’s copious note-taking amusing as she darted round the house. He told her she was like a little bird, eager to see everything. Now she lifted her face to his with a smile.

  “I’ve got loads of ideas running through my head. But it’s been fun. I’ve loved it.”

  “Yeah, it’s been fun.” He looked down into her smiling face, surprised at how much fun it had actually been. He hadn’t been looking forward to the drudgery of having to fit out the interior of his new house, but since spending the morning in Penny’s company, he’d found just how enjoyable it could be.

  In every room, there had been something for her to enthuse about. She drew his attention to little details he would have never noticed, making the empty, echoing place come alive. Her descriptions were so vivid, he could swear in Penny’s mind the former Victorian owners were almost real. When they first arrived in front of the arched stone doorway, she mentioned it was part of an architectural style called Gothic Revival. As proof she grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him round to the side of the building to show him a gargoyle he’d never noticed, half-hidden as it was by wisteria. She even enthused later about a filthy old oven she’d discovered in the cellar, telling him it was a quality cast iron Edwardian range which, with time and attention, could be restored to its previous glory. He’d teased her by telling her he thought it was ready for the trash, but she was outraged. She brought a freshness to every dusty nook and cranny, but more than that, she had a magical way of telling a story. He could have listened to her for hours as she conjured up the sort of people who would have lived in the house. She made them seem so real, it was as though they’d just walked out the door.

  He took in her fresh, glowing features and was filled with a sudden warmth, an urge to reach for her that took him by surprise. He reached a hand to touch her temple, making light of his sudden swell of tenderness.

  “There’s a cobweb.” He brushed the trail away. And then, because he didn’t want the morning with her to end yet, he surprised himself further by adding, “I’m going to take a walk out there in the park. Want to come with me?”

  Penny flinched a little at the touch of his fingers. She stepped back, so her shoulders were pressed against the glass.

  “Yuck, spiders,” she said after a minute, brushing at her fringe, her face hidden beneath the sweep of her long hair. “You’re right. Let’s take a walk and get out of all this dust.”

  * * * *

  Penny took a deep breath as soon as she stepped outdoors. A walk in the fresh air would do her good in more ways than one. The huge old house was beginning to feel too small to contain them both, and she felt again the urgency of putting as much space as possible between herself and Kurt.

  Noon was chill and misty when they reached the park. Although a scattering of hopeful crocuses had pushed their way through the grassland, the chill damp of winter continued to hang in the air. She had swathed herself in a woolly scarf and hat. Only her eyes and broad cheekbones were showing, invigorated by the fresh air. Kurt had thrown on a thin fleece. She could see him visibly relaxing as they left the traffic-filled streets and entered the wide green space of the park.

  “Aren’t you cold?” She knew the answer to the question before she’d even asked it. Kurt seemed to radiate health and vitality, even more so now they had reached the outdoors. He looked at her across the couple of feet of distance she had made between them and laughed, his outbreath joining the mist.

  “This isn’t so cold. You should see the ice and the snow in Wyoming—now that’s cold.”

  “Do you miss it?” she asked curiously, lifting her head from the path they were treading. “Home, I mean?”

  “I miss the scale of it all. The sky and the mountains. I don’t like to feel too boxed in.”

  They trod the muddy path in silence for a while. Penny wondered what it must be like to be living abroad, far from family and in an alien landscape. She couldn’t imagine leaving her grandfather and her shop and being happy. Kurt spoke again, almost as though he’d read her thoughts.

  “I miss the landscape, but I wouldn’t call Wyoming home. Apart from my sister, there’s no one there I miss.”

  It was the first time since they met that Kurt had revealed anything of himself unprompted. He was looking straight ahead, apparently concentrating on the scene unfolding as they moved through the thin mist.

  “Don’t you have anyone else? Other family?”

  He gave a small shake of the head. “Like y
ou, my mom died when I was small. My dad died a couple years back. My sister’s really my half-sister. And my step-mom’s around somewhere, but me and my sister, we haven’t heard from her for years.”

  For someone as taciturn as Kurt, it was a long and revealing speech. Penny concentrated on the path for a while, the moisture from her breath fading and falling. The leaves from the previous autumn were sodden and decaying underfoot, masking the sound of her boots. When she drew in a deep breath to speak, the sound was clear in the cold air.

  “Haven’t you ever tried?” she asked. “To contact your stepmum, I mean?”

  Kurt kept up his loose-limbed stride, both hands in the pockets of his fleece. When he didn’t answer immediately, she carried on impulsively.

  “I mean, family’s important, isn’t it? Doesn’t your sister miss her mum?”

  This finally made Kurt stop on the footpath and turn to her. “You ever see Snow White?”

  Penny barely had time to nod before he turned back to the path and started walking again, leaving her to catch up.

  “Well when I was a kid, I used to think they must have based that movie on my stepmom. I thought my dad’s new wife was the evil stepmother come to life. Dad worshipped the ground she walked on. She was pretty, and she was twenty years younger than him. No matter how she treated me and Ann, he just didn’t see it. She was cruel and selfish, but he loved her blindly with a passion.”

  They passed under a leafless tree, the branches just starting to bud. Kurt reached out to snap off one of the dead twigs and began swishing it as he walked, the thin wood making a hissing sound in the still air.