by Jane Linfoot
Luce gave her friend her first proper grin since they’d arrived. ‘Did I ever tell you I love you, babe?’
Izzy gave a laugh and dived off into the kitchen.
* * * *
‘So what’s this about waste again?’
Izzy peered around the chandelier she was twiddling with. She wasn’t big on post mortems, possibly because she never did anything out-there enough to warrant one, but right now she really did need a debriefing with Luce.
‘It’s a complete waste for an awful guy like him to get looks like that.’ Izzy mentally crossed her fingers, hoping for five minutes without interruption from customers, while she got her thoughts straight about the guy with the skip.
‘If we’re talking about the guy on the building site I may need more flapjack,’ Luce said as she sank her teeth into another piece. ‘So, just tell me again, how come you knew about these hidden skips in the first place?’
‘I spotted some builders coming out of the Butty Box in Bakewell, so I followed them.’ Izzy clocked Luce’s eyes rolling skywards.
‘Have you been hanging round sandwich shops again?’ Luce was tutting and giving her a hard stare.
Izzy was well known for stalking anything in overalls and work boots in her mission to find skips. Saving old furniture gave her a warm feeling inside. She knew it wasn’t logical to most people, but for Izzy it was a throwback to the time her family collapsed. Back then every item Izzy had rescued represented a step towards domestic stability, and rescuing other people’s cast offs, and using them to make the family home pretty had been a way in which she grappled back control in a situation where she had very little. Even last night, when the threat of losing everything they’d worked for was hanging over her, she’d found it immensely soothing to dive into a skip. And that was where her fledgling obsession for all things vintage had begun.
Izzy heard her own voice rise in protest. ‘I just happened to notice a builder on the street so I followed him, and hey-presto, there were two skips on his site. It’s a cut-throat world out there, I make no apologies for my methods, especially now.’
‘You get worse.’ Luce shook her head, and wiped a flapjack crumb off her chin. ‘So later, when you go back for your stuff, that’s when you get stuck in the skip, and meet the fit guy…’
Izzy chimed in. ‘…the rude one whose looks are wasted on him. You got it.’
Luce’s cogs were obviously turning very slowly today.
‘So let’s get this straight.’ Luce licked her finger. ‘This spectacular man finds you stuck in his skip, on his building site. He drags you out, looks after you when you cut your foot, then offers you a lift home. So remind me, how does this make him a bad guy, because from where I’m standing he sounds like a great guy who fully deserves to be drop dead gorgeous?’
Izzy pursed her lips, and let out a long breath through her nose. ‘You’d need to have been there to understand. We just didn’t get on, simple as. And incidentally, he wasn’t a normal drop dead G, he was kind of totally exceptional.’ Izzy wasn’t going to elaborate, especially about on the stomach on fast spin thing.
Luce considered for a moment.
‘Izzy, you weren’t by any chance being difficult, were you?’
‘Me?! Difficult!’
Izzy knew Luce despaired of her tendency to tell it like it was. Cue Luce’s special customer service initiative, which everyone knew was directed straight at Izzy, full stop. As far as Izzy was concerned, if a customer was out of line, someone needed to tell them, and to hell with all that customer always being right shit.
‘I might have been…slightly stroppy…perhaps.’ Izzy decided to come clean. ‘But in my defence, he was driving a hideous tank thing…and you know how that winds me up?’
It was all down to one bloody deserting dad, driving off in a blingy four by four, not only leaving the family destitute, but whipping all the assets off to where the divorce courts couldn’t touch them. Who wouldn’t hate four by fours?
‘Does this mean you might be about to get back in the saddle again, Iz?’
Luce had heard enough ranting about Izzy’s dad, especially in those sixth form years, when every day brought some new parental horror story, so it was only to be expected that Luce would head onto Luce’s favourite soapbox topic – fixing Izzy up with a guy. Somehow, according to Luce, the answer to every problem Izzy had was man-shaped.
‘Definitely not.’ Years of practice, and Izzy had the excuses ready to roll out. ‘After home and work, I have no time for dating. You know this already’
Since her ex, Alastair, Izzy had made her life so full that dates were out of the question, and that was how she liked it. It wasn’t because he’d smashed her heart into teensy pieces either. Actually, he hadn’t. It was just that in the end, like the guys who drifted through her life before him, he’d been ultimately disappointing in every respect. Given today’s reminder that she never wanted to have a guy controlling her life, staying well away from them was doubly important. With her brother Ollie away, and the extra urgency to maximise income, she had to be entirely work focused. Now more than ever.
‘I’m constantly pointing out hot guys, who you resolutely ignore.’ Luce’s tone of complaint lightened. ‘It’s the first time you’ve mentioned a man since forever. You can’t blame me for encouraging you.’
‘Thanks, but no thanks.’ Izzy tried to breeze past it. ‘Well-spoken really isn’t my type.’
‘Well-spoken? You can’t dismiss a whole section of the population like that Izzy.’ Luce’s face was stern then her face cracked into one of her grins. ‘I sense a chink in your man repelling armour. Just be sure from now on I’ll make it my business to bring any hot guy around to your immediate attention – not that I don’t already.’ Luce’s grin widened. ‘So did you find anything good in the skips then?’
Hopefully that was Luce’s man hunt lecture over for today. ‘It was a brilliant haul. I was up at five working on it. There are some lovely frames, and lots of cupboards and little bits which don’t need much doing to them at all before they can go on sale. It’s a real boost, especially now.’
It wasn’t only the panic over Aidie’s threat – since Izzy had taken over Ollie’s section as well as her own, she was under pressure. If your brother went off, it was a no brainer that you’d cover for him, but lately she’d felt like she’d been running to stand still.
‘If it’s quiet today, I can cover here for you this afternoon, so you can get to work at home on all your new finds.’ Luce raised her eyebrows. ‘Your new stuff will keep things looking fresh here. You’ll be doing it for The Vintage Cinema Club.’
Izzy considered. Luce was right, so long as she didn’t mind.
‘Thanks, I’ll do that.’ Izzy looked up to see Thom and Declan, two other twenty-something Vintage Crew members, wandering in from the street. ‘Here comes the muscle. I’m guessing they’ll be here to help you out too, if there’s anything you need.’
Meanwhile Izzy had to make sure that mind reading Luce didn’t twig exactly how much the awful guy from the building site was distracting her. ‘If that’s all out here, I’ll go and sort out the kitchen.’
Izzy had no idea what was going on with the skip man. Even now could still feel shivers on her skin, where he’d touched her foot. If Luce had the slightest inkling there was still a trace of his smell on Izzy’s jacket, and worse, that Izzy kept breathing it in, Izzy would never hear the end of it.
10
Thursday Afternoon, 5th June
Subject: RE: RED ALERT!!!
To Dida and the cinema crew,
Quick tan central has been taken over by someone local called Joe Kerr, according to my mate who works in traffic at the council. Watch this space. Will send more info as I get it, the spies are out,
Ollie, sent from Goa, India
11
Friday Afternoon, 6th June
IZZY
At home
Nirvana
Back home, Izzy dived in
to her painting dungarees, and pushed her jacket firmly out of reach to stop herself from breathing in the scent of that insufferable man. Under her pillow, in her bedroom, two floors up from the sunny terrace outside the kitchen where she was going to be painting, seemed like the best place. That way she definitely wouldn’t be tempted to bury her face in it – two days on and the scent of the hot guy was still vaguely there, and she still wasn’t even sure what it was. Paco Rabane? Soap? And a hefty smudge of testosterone, no doubt.
Izzy had spent the morning helping Luce transfer her wedding dresses across to the cinema. Given Luce’s reticence, she had decided that direct action was the only way forward to ensure the Bridal Studio idea became a reality. A few well-chosen accessories transformed the projection room, and another part of their Vintage Cinema Club Plan was in place. Luce’s pale anxiety had been replaced with flushed excitement by the time Izzy left her.
As far as Izzy was concerned, the fastest way to reach Nirvana, apart from burying your head in fabrics that smelled of someone delectable, was to paint. The moment she had the brush in her hand, the real world around the edges melted out of focus, and all she concentrated on was her brush strokes. It soothed her, it calmed her, it took her to another level. Better still, the giant endorphin boost of satisfaction for whatever transformation she’d just pulled off, made her feel like she was flying. Talk about afterglow. And better still she got paid for the end result. Who wouldn’t have been obsessed with it?
Three years ago, when Vintage at the Cinema began, Izzy majored in white and cream and pale grey, but the huge public demand for all things white was turning. Fifties brights were very popular now, and rich aubergines were also going down a storm. As for sludgy pink chairs, they were flying out so fast, she could barely keep up with demand.
Izzy had hauled lots of bits and pieces from her storage shed lower down the garden, onto the terrace, which she had swathed in dust sheets. Sitting in a splash of sunlight, by the open kitchen French windows, she began to paint. Today, despite the air being filled with the scent of early-summer lilac, her mind refused to wander any further than yesterday’s grubby building site, and guess who…? It was as if her brain had the whole action replay on repeat. It was like when her younger twin brothers played on their FIFA game on Xbox, and the snippets of commentary kept coming round again and again. Except each time she heard her own voice in her memory, she cringed, and kicked herself, wishing she’d said something different. Talk about torture.
By four o’clock she was exhausted and bemused, but at least she had a satisfying array of transformed tables, cupboards, chairs and frames, drying in the sun. Just looking at them made her insides go all warm with a glow of well-being. Every time she made something perfect again, it reinforced that she was in control of her life. She was just about to head inside to wash her brushes when her phone rang.
She grabbed her handset. ‘Luce, shouldn’t you be picking up Ruby?’
‘No, I’m at work, Ruby and Lolly are at Dida’s.’ Luce gave a husky laugh. ‘And I’m ringing to tell you about a hot guy, at six o’clock.’
Automatically Izzy scanned the horizon, as she did whenever Luce tipped her off about talent in the vicinity. ‘Thanks for the heads up, but I’m definitely too far away to appreciate him from here.’
‘I’m not talking six o’clock positions.’ Luce sounded as if she couldn’t believe Izzy hadn’t understood. ‘Six o’ clock is the time for the delivery I’ve organised for you to do. Remember the new initiative? And this delivery is to the yummiest guy ever, who’s just walked out of here. I’m setting you up, okay?’
Or how about not okay. Izzy was kicking herself now, but she’d brought this on herself, when she should have known better. The merest mention of a man this morning, and Luce had launched into a full blown “grab a man for Izzy” offensive.
‘Why didn’t you grab him first?’ Izzy queried. It was a fact of life that the male shoppers honed in on Luce, and she was exceptionally up for fun times, so long as it wasn’t any more than that. What’s more, sometimes flirting sold furniture, simple as.
‘I’ve got someone else in mind for now…’ Luce didn’t elaborate. ‘And to be honest this particular guy didn’t seem that interested in me.’
Not interested? Izzy couldn’t see that being true. As for whoever Luce was thinking about, Izzy didn’t always keep track of the string of guys who Luce saw. Sometimes she hooked up with Josh, who was a dead ringer for Henry Cavill, guaranteed any girl a great time in bed, but shied away from anything more permanent since his mum died. Or Cal, who was similarly gifted, and up for no ties, whilst working past a break up. The others came and went. End of.
A while back it had maybe seemed like Luce was going a bit more crazy than usual on her Friday nights off. But now Izzy came to think of it, lately she’d barely been aware of Luce’s liaisons at all. Luce passing over the guy with the delivery was maybe a sign of a bigger trend Izzy had been a) blind and b) stupid, not to notice.
Luce carried on. ‘There’s only a couple of bedside cupboards to deliver to him, and that small rocking horse of yours.’
‘No…’ Izzy let out a groan. ‘I know I have to sell things, but I love that horse, it’ll be a real wrench to let it go.’ She knew she shouldn’t complain. Sales were sales, and getting attached or sentimental in this business was not an option, especially now.
‘A rocking horse is definitely a better bet than a falabella pony.’ Luce complained. ‘Honestly these falabellas are all we hear about at the moment, Ruby and Lolly are crazy about them. Daisy Benson from school’s got one, unfortunately for Dida and me. They’re the size of a dog, but they’re actually a horse, in perfect miniature detail - they even smell of horse apparently.’
‘Sorry, but I’m with Ruby and Lolly on this one, they sound adorable.’ Izzy gave a smile.
‘Exactly, that’s the whole trouble.’ Luce let out a wail. ‘Daisy’s pony is just big enough to pull a little cart with a can of lager in. Ruby isn’t so bad, because she knows there’s no chance of getting one in the flat, but Lolly’s making Dida’s life a misery, pleading for one.’
‘What a pain.’ Izzy had so much admiration for the way Luce handled having a child.
‘Anyway, at least some lucky child is getting your rocking horse.’ Luce switched back to business. ‘I got the impression that yummy guy is looking to buy a lot, which is another reason I offered him one of our new Vintage Cinema Club special deliveries. He left written directions by the till, but remember, you need to be nice to him.’ Luce paused, supposedly to emphasise that last point. ‘You can thank me for the date you get, later.’
Date? As if. ‘As of yesterday morning I’m on my best behaviour, but I should point out I was only ever rude when it was warranted.’ Izzy had to stand up for herself on this, and she was having to ignore that Luce wasn’t agreeing with her here. ‘Fine, I’ll be round soon to pick up the things. And try not to devour any more male customers in the meantime.’
Izzy could imagine Luce’s eye roll here.
‘This one’s worth the drive, I promise.’ Luce wasn’t giving up. ‘Stop resisting, go and enjoy the view. If I miss you, I’ll see you later in the bar, okay?’
12
Friday Evening, 6th June
IZZY
Ashbourne
Special delivery, fully loaded
Batting along country lanes towards Ashbourne, Izzy was driving a vehicle that was a dead ringer for a dustbin and which was both noisy and bumpy. She suspected an actual dustbin may have been slightly more comfortable than Ollie’s battered old Citroen Tube van, affectionately known as Chou-fleur, but at least it had started without a problem. Ollie had spent months on a total rebuild of Chou, working outside in the back lane, with his welding gear. Izzy was very grateful to her brother for leaving her Chou, but at times Izzy found the mechanical idiosyncrasies hard to work with. What with flagging batteries and dying starter motors, leaving home at all was a game of chance. Perhaps the c
lunky engine had sprung into life without complaint because Chou-fleur appreciated an outing on this sunny evening, and the bursting hawthorn blossom on the hedges, much the same as Izzy did.
She yanked on the wheel, and attempted to coax Chou-fleur round a sharp bend. Steering wasn’t that easy in the van, but then braking wasn’t her strong point either. But the up side was that with Vintage at the Cinema, Everything Retro written in large letters across both the grey sides, Chou-fleur was very distinctive, not to say eye catching, and free mobile advertising was a fab way to spread the word. And if you were entirely without transport, as Izzy had been since her last car died a few months back, you were damned appreciative of anything with an engine and some wheels.
Izzy pulled the scrap of paper with directions on, out of her pocket. She was looking for a large pink house, at the end of Carrington, which was the chocolate-box village north of Ashbourne, which she was driving through now. So much for Luce’s promise of jaw-dropping talent here. She didn’t want to pre-judge, but surely there was a teensy chance that a man who lived in the only pink house in the place, wasn’t going to be interested.
Izzy’s eyes widened, and she let out a low whistle, as the pink house came into view. After a slight disagreement with Chou-fleur about the exact course they were going to take as they left the main street, Izzy swung the van through between high gateposts. She made herself ignore the profile of a large four-wheel drive vehicle which passed through her sight-line as she wrestled the van around the sweeping drive, and thought instead about the satisfying scrunch of the tyres on the gravel, as she pulled to a halt in front of an exquisitely pretty Georgian house.
For a minute, Izzy’s stomach tightened. Something about the proportions of the facade were so like the house she used to live in, a lifetime ago. She stamped on that thought. No point revisiting the past. Strange how today had raked up a lot of the old pain. She always tried not to think of how things used to be. It was way better to live in the here and now. Their family may have had an amazing home when they were small, but the anguish that the family went through when they left it all behind was something Izzy preferred to blot out entirely.