The Butterfly Room

by Lucinda Riley

  ‘I have a backer who is prepared to fund the projects that I source. I organise the project and see it through to its conclusion. We then split the profits from the sale of the property that’s been developed.’

  ‘I see,’ said Posy, determined to act as though she was innocent as to where this conversation was leading.

  ‘Now, Mum, the thing is that Marie, in her capacity as estate agent, has been charged with informing me if anything suitable for our needs might be coming onto the market. I just happened to speak to her yesterday afternoon and she told me she’d been here to value it.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Mum, Admiral House is just what my company is looking for. A fantastic house, full of character, that could be turned into several smashing apartments.’

  Posy looked at Sam silently for a while. Then she said, ‘Sam, did Marie tell you what she valued it at?’

  ‘Yes, around a million.’

  ‘And you’re telling me that your company has a million spare pounds to purchase Admiral House?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ nodded Sam confidently.

  ‘Plus the money to do the renovation and alteration work, which I’m sure would run into hundreds of thousands, if not the same amount again?’

  ‘Yep, no probs at all.’

  ‘Well, well, we’re obviously talking the big league here,’ mused Posy.

  ‘We are. My partner is a very, very wealthy man. He doesn’t want to mess around with two-bit projects.’

  ‘And how many other “projects” have you got off the ground so far, Sam?’

  ‘Well, this one would be the first. We’ve only been going for a few weeks.’

  ‘So, what is it exactly you’ve come to ask me?’

  ‘I want to know whether you’d be prepared to sell Admiral House to my development company. We’d pay the full market price, I wouldn’t ask for any family favours or anything. It really would work to your advantage, Mum. There’d be no need to put it on the market, we could just conduct the deal discreetly between us. And there would of course, be an incentive for you.’

  ‘Really? What?’ Posy asked.

  ‘I discussed it with my partner and he agreed that if you were to sell it to us, we’d offer you one of the apartments at a discount. That way, you could still live here! What do you think of that?’

  ‘I’ve no idea what I think, Sam. I have to decide whether I want to sell the house in the first place.’

  ‘Of course, but if you do decide to sell, would you give me first refusal? A project such as this would put me and the company on the map, establish us in the major league. It would give other potential sellers the confidence to trust us. If not for me, do it for Amy and the kids. You’ve seen where we’re living at present.’

  ‘I have and I was horrified,’ Posy agreed.

  ‘They deserve better and I’m desperate to give it to them. So please, Mum, will you think about selling it to me?’

  Posy looked at her son, his blue eyes – so like his father’s – beseeching her to answer in the affirmative.

  ‘I promise that when I have decided, I will consider your offer first.’

  ‘Thanks Mum.’ Sam stood up, then walked towards Posy and gave her a hug. ‘I promise you could trust me to take care of the old place, and if it has to happen, isn’t it better it’s still in family hands, rather than some stranger who sees it only in terms of bricks, mortar and profit?’

  ‘Of course.’ Posy wanted to laugh at Sam’s unabashed emotional blackmail.

  ‘I won’t rush you, I promise. Take your time. I have to say though, that the house really is starting to deteriorate rapidly.’

  ‘Well, it’s stood here for three hundred years already so I doubt it will crumble round my ears in the space of a few weeks,’ Posy replied briskly. ‘Now, you must excuse me, dear. I have to leave in five minutes.’

  ‘Of course. Well, as soon as you’ve made up your mind, please let me know. It would be great to have the deal done and dusted so we could get going on the work in the spring. It’s so much more cost-effective to build through the summer months.’

  ‘I thought you said you wouldn’t rush me,’ chided Posy as she left the kitchen and headed to the front door.

  ‘Sorry, Mum. I just know this would be the making of me. And Amy and the kids.’

  ‘Bye-bye, Sam.’ Posy sighed wearily and kissed her son on the cheek. ‘I’ll see you on Sunday.’

  That night, as arranged, Posy met Freddie outside the Arts Centre. With everything crowding into her thoughts, Posy admitted afterwards that the finer points of the film had rather gone over her head.

  ‘And mine, dear girl. God only knows what that scorpion was a metaphor for.’

  ‘Obviously it meant something for those with far more intellect than us.’ Posy smiled.

  ‘Listen, how do you fancy a snifter back at mine? It’s only a few minutes’ walk from here.’

  ‘Why not?’ Posy heard herself say, mentally kicking herself for agreeing so readily.

  They walked along the High Street in companionable silence. Freddie turned along a narrow lane which eventually opened up into a small courtyard, with a flint cottage and an old hophouse edging it. A Japanese maple sat in the courtyard and two small bay trees stood on either side of the freshly painted front door. Freddie unlocked it and led her inside.

  ‘Freddie, this is delightful!’ she said as she stepped into a heavily beamed sitting room with a huge inglenook fireplace taking centre stage.

  ‘Thank you.’ Freddie gave a mock bow as he took Posy’s coat from her shoulders and hung it on a hook in the hall. ‘I must admit I am rather pleased with it. Come through and see my favourite room; the kitchen.’

  Posy followed him into an airy space, realising the three walls in front of her were made entirely of glass. Freddie flicked a light switch and Posy gazed through the windows into the small but immaculate garden.

  ‘This was no more than a two-up, two-down cottage when I came here, so I added what is in essence a conservatory. It’s trebled the space, not to mention the light.’

  ‘I love it.’ Posy clapped her hands in delight. ‘And just look at all your modern appliances,’ she said, turning round and admiring the sleek stainless-steel fridge, oven and dishwasher housed under a thick marble work-top. ‘You put me to shame.’

  ‘I am so glad you like it,’ said Freddie. ‘Brandy?’

  ‘Yes, please. This is exactly the kind of thing I’d love to buy. Small, manageable, but with character,’ she said, feeling cheered that maybe there was an alternative if she sold Admiral House.

  ‘Are you thinking of moving, then?’ asked Freddie lightly as he handed her a brandy and led her back into the sitting room.

  ‘Yes.’ For some reason, Posy had so far not felt comfortable about mentioning the valuation and possible sale to Freddie.

  ‘That’s a big decision,’ he said as he sat down.

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘But perhaps the right one. Sometimes it’s healthy to move on, put the past behind you,’ Freddie mused.

  ‘Surely only if that past has been difficult? Admiral House is filled with happy memories for me,’ she replied defensively.

  ‘Yes, of course. So you’d be selling for purely practical reasons?’

  ‘I would, yes. As a matter of fact, I already have an offer of sorts. Sam, my eldest son, appeared this morning and announced that he wanted to buy it and convert the house into apartments,’ sighed Posy. ‘I have to say it’s left me in rather a quandary.’

  ‘And why is that?’

  ‘For starters, I only had it valued yesterday. It was more a furtive gesture to find out how much it was worth than a definite plan.’

  ‘And now you already have an offer?’

  ‘Yes, and the problem is that I’m stymied. If I do decide to sell, how can I not accept an offer from my own son? But, to be blunt, his track record in business is utterly appalling and this new company of his is fledgling and untested. Admiral Hous
e, from what I gather, would be their first big project.’

  ‘Are you sure he would have the money for it?’

  ‘Sam says so, yes, but do I believe him? Not completely, no.’

  ‘But he’s not asking for any favours?’

  ‘He’s offered the asking price.’

  ‘Right. Is it likely he would try and double-cross his own mother?’

  ‘I would like to think not, no, but then I’m his mum and will always think the best of him. Even though I’m aware he has his faults, I have to believe his heart is in the right place.’

  ‘Of course you do, but it’s a very difficult position that Sam’s put you in. Of course you feel duty-bound to sell it to him. My barrister past also tells me that any financial deal between close relatives can often end in tears.’

  ‘I know,’ nodded Posy.

  ‘I think the only thing you can do is to be relatively hard-nosed about it. The house has been valued by an independent estate agent, so you know what it’s worth. Why don’t you give Sam and his company first refusal and a deadline by which they must exchange contracts and put down a hefty deposit? You’re in no hurry, so if Sam fails to close the deal, you won’t have lost much more than a few weeks anyway. Then at least you’ve given him the chance.’

  ‘Yes, thank you, dear Freddie. You really are so sensible. I think you’re absolutely right. I shall do just as you suggest.’

  ‘Glad to be of use, milady.’

  ‘By the way, I was going to ask you whether you’d like to join us for a family lunch at Admiral House on Sunday? My son Nick and his new girlfriend, plus Sam, Amy and their children are coming.’

  ‘I’ll have to ask Joe to take over the boat for me, but yes, that sounds marvellous.’

  ‘Good.’ Posy stood up. ‘Now, I really must go. Thank you for a delightful evening and your words of wisdom.’

  Posy made her way into the hall and Freddie helped her into her coat.

  ‘Goodnight Posy, and thank you too.’ He reached in to kiss her and for a split second, she thought he was heading for her lips. Yet at the last minute, he diverted and a gentle peck was planted on her cheek.

  ‘Goodnight Freddie.’

  She gave him one last glance as she turned to walk down the lane. And wondered why he looked so terribly sad.

  Chapter 15

  ‘Nick! What on earth is this?’ laughed Tammy as she stepped in to the passenger seat of an ancient but immaculate tomato-red sports car.

  ‘This, my dear Tammy, is a vintage Austin Healey.’

  ‘I like the colour,’ Tammy said as she climbed in and smelt leather and polish. ‘It won’t break down, will it?’ she added as Nick tried to start the engine and failed.

  ‘Maybe, but we’ll just have to push.’

  ‘What is it with you and old things?’ she asked him, as the car finally started and they pulled away from the kerb.

  ‘Does that include you?’ he smiled as he changed gears, then reached for her hand.

  ‘Charmed, I’m sure.’

  ‘Not nervous about today, are you?’ he asked as they sped east across a largely deserted London still waking to a leisurely Sunday morning.

  ‘You mean meeting your mum – and your brother and his family – for the first time? A little, I suppose.’

  ‘I’m sure Mum will love you, and probably Sam too, for all the wrong reasons. He’s always wanted anything I had, but I’m confident you’ll like Amy. From what I can remember, she’s a sweetie. I know you’ll charm them all.’

  ‘I hope so,’ sighed Tammy, wondering why she felt it was so important she did.

  Posy had just finished laying the kitchen table and was arranging multi-coloured asters, which she grew in abundance because they provided late-season nectar for hibernating butterfly species, in a vase for a centrepiece. She’d woken up this morning in a state of high excitement – the anticipation of having her entire family together for lunch for the first time in years filled her with pleasure. Apart from her brief trip to the garden to pick the flowers, she’d been in the kitchen since seven, baking and preparing the beef she’d bought yesterday.

  The telephone rang. ‘Hello?’ she said, picking up the receiver.

  ‘Posy, it’s Freddie. I am most terribly sorry at the short notice, but I’m afraid I can’t make it over for lunch today after all.’

  ‘I see.’

  Posy waited for Freddie to offer an explanation, then she realised the silence meant there was none forthcoming.

  ‘That’s a shame. I was looking forward to introducing you to my family.’

  ‘And I was looking forward to meeting them. It can’t be helped, I’m afraid. I’ll ring you during the week. Goodbye, Posy.’

  She put the phone down, feeling a little of the gloss slip from her day. He’d sounded so abrupt, so cold . . .

  ‘You look deep in thought, Posy.’

  Sebastian’s voice behind her made her jump. He’d moved in a couple of days ago and she was still getting used to someone else being present in the house.

  ‘Do I?’ She turned to him. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Would you mind if I make myself a coffee?’ Sebastian asked. ‘I promise to go and purchase my own kettle tomorrow, so I don’t have to keep disturbing you down here.’

  ‘You’re not disturbing me at all, really.’ Posy walked over to the table and began removing Freddie’s place setting. Sebastian watched her.

  ‘Someone cancelled?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Posy, filling up the empty space by shuffling the placemats along. ‘My friend Freddie.’

  ‘Excuse me for saying so, but it’s rather short notice, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes.’ Posy sighed, then, still holding the cutlery, sank into a chair. ‘You’re a novelist, Sebastian, and a man. Maybe you can tell me what it means when somebody seems . . . very attentive and eager to be with you one moment, and yet the next, he’s cold and distant and cancelling the date.’

  ‘Who knows?’ Sebastian spooned some instant coffee into a mug. ‘As you know, men generally tend to be much more basic than women; for the most part, less emotionally complex. They call a spade a spade, whereas women are more likely to say it’s a metal digging implement used in the garden.’

  The analogy made Posy smile.

  ‘Therefore, I would deduce that your Freddie can’t come today because he has a straightforward reason for not doing so.’

  ‘Then why doesn’t he just tell me what it is?’

  ‘God knows.’ Sebastian removed the kettle from the hob and poured boiling water into his mug. ‘In my experience, when men get together, it’s all beer and sport with a few jokes thrown in for good measure. They can be extremely bad at communication, especially – if you’ll forgive me saying so – men of a certain generation, who have been taught from the cradle to keep their thoughts and emotions to themselves. And British men have got to be the worst. They were born with a stiff upper lip.’

  ‘Well, you’re obviously out of a different mould altogether. You express yourself quite beautifully.’

  ‘It must be the French in me,’ Sebastian said as he stirred his coffee.

  ‘I’m half French, you know, on my mother’s side,’ said Posy, taking out the huge joint of beef and basting it.

  ‘Are you now?’ Sebastian smiled. ‘That must be why I like you.’

  ‘Well, as I’m a woman and half-French, I’m going to be very forward and ask whether you’d fill in for Freddie at lunch today?’

  ‘Really? Are you sure you want me with all your family coming?’

  ‘Absolutely, I told you before you moved in that you’d be welcome. Besides, they’re far more likely to be civil if there’s a stranger present.’

  ‘Are you expecting pistols at high tea?’

  ‘I hope not, although I’m not sure Nick will be too pleased if Sam mentions he intends to buy this house and turn it into apartments. Nothing’s decided yet.’

  ‘I don’t think I’m too pleased either, and I’m not even re
lated to you,’ Sebastian admitted ruefully. ‘I’ve fallen completely in love with the place. Anyway, I’d be happy to join you for an hour or so, if you’re sure.’

  ‘Completely sure,’ said Posy. ‘Besides, you are now my official date.’

  ‘Then I’ll be down at one o’clock prompt. See you later.’

  At just past noon, Posy saw an old red sports car making its way up the drive and parking on the gravel. A pair of long, slim legs encased in chic suede trousers emerged from the passenger door, followed by an elegant torso, and a tumbling mane of red-gold hair.

  ‘My goodness, you’re a beautiful woman,’ murmured Posy, feeling disappointed. She’d met few beautiful women in her life that she’d actually liked and she only hoped Tammy would be the exception.

  Within ten minutes of meeting Tammy, Posy realised that this lovely, open young woman was going to prove the exception. Even though she was obviously nervous, which Posy found endearing, she seemed as bright as a button, friendly and completely unaffected by her looks. Most importantly of all, as she watched the way Tammy reached for her son’s hand and her eyes followed him around the room, she obviously adored Nick.

  ‘Can I give you a hand with anything, Posy?’ Tammy asked as the three of them stood in the kitchen drinking a glass of wine.

  ‘No, I . . .’

  ‘Sam and Amy have just arrived, Mum.’ Nick was peering out of the kitchen window. ‘My goodness, just look at my nephew and niece! Excuse me whilst I go out and introduce myself as their uncle, will you?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Posy, this is such a beautiful house,’ said Tammy.

  ‘Thank you, Tammy, I love it too. More wine?’

  Tammy accepted a refill.

  ‘You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Nick look happier,’ commented Posy, topping up her own glass. ‘You must be good for him.’

  ‘I hope so,’ ventured Tammy. ‘I know he’s good for me.’

  ‘It’s so healthy that you’re both successful in your own right. I think it makes for a much more balanced relationship.’

  ‘Well, I’m untried and untested at the moment, Posy. My boutique could end up being a massive flop.’