The Vintage Cinema Club

by Jane Linfoot

  Last night she’d come over all furious with Xander for being arrogant, and trying to take over her life, when really she suspected she’d just been smarting because he hadn’t come through with the speech she’d deluded herself into thinking he was going to make. Just when she’d thought he was going to suggest they maybe reassess their ground rules, he’d veered off and offered to take a controlling interest in the business. And then later, he’d had the cheek to imply her control issues were all about not trusting her dad. Huge eye rolls to that one, especially when it came from someone as determined to stay in control as Xander. Just when she’d totally revised what she thought about him, he’d reverted to type.

  ‘Do you need us to send you more cash?’ Luce was straight onto it.

  Izzy explained. ‘The bigger, statement pieces we were hoping for are coming in expensive, but I’ll let you know.’

  ‘Well I’m only ringing because there’s something urgent I need to check.’ Luce’s voice was strangely breathy.

  Something was definitely up here, given they’d agreed not to rack up the mobile roaming charges gossiping, and had been texting and emailing instead.

  Izzy barely dared to ask. ‘Urgent bad?’ Dida getting a “no” from the bank was the first idea that came crashing into Izzy’s head. Then although she’d barely thought of them for days, Izzy’s mind fast forwarded to the twins. Crashing their cars, flooding the basement…

  ‘Urgent good.’

  Luce’s voice so high now, it was almost strangled. ‘So you remember Mr Browntree? Well yesterday I took him up to see that art deco table in the outbuilding at your place. The one Ollie and I pulled out of that house just before he went away.’

  Nothing too exciting about a table that Izzy could see. ‘The one Ollie was going to repair when he came back?’ Izzy still had bruises on her hips from squeezing past that thing. ‘Mr Browntree can definitely take that if he wants it.’

  Luce broke in. ‘He does, but whilst he was there he saw the pile of pictures that came from that same clearance.’

  Izzy put her hand to her head. Home might feel light years away, but she knew those pictures. There was a huge pile of them, stacked on the roof ties. ‘The horrible brown dowdy Victorian ones with animals on, that we thought wouldn’t sell?’

  ‘Mr Browntree thinks they might be worth something, possibly quite a lot. So much in fact that he made us take them into the house for last night, just to be on the safe side. Is it okay if he takes them for an expert valuation?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Izzy tried to get her head around being excited, and at the same time not getting her hopes up. ‘This is just like the Antiques Road Show.’ And it might even be enough to save the cinema, but it could just as easily come to nothing.

  ‘A lot of the time the stuff on there doesn’t turn out to be worth anything.’ Luce gave a sigh. ‘He said there are a lot of Victorian fakes about, so not to get our hopes up. I’ll let you know the minute we hear anything.’

  Izzy tried not to smile too much. ‘Fingers crossed for The Vintage Cinema Club then.’

  ‘Better go. Be good.’ Luce replied.

  ‘I will.’ Izzy gave a grin.

  Luce was right back at her. ‘I really don’t mean that.’ And then she rang off.

  And Izzy didn’t think she meant it either.

  61

  Saturday Morning, 19th July

  IZZY & XANDER

  On the terrace, Les Cerisiers, France

  Skipping at breakfast

  It was eleven o’ clock when Izzy finally made coffee, and she still had no idea where Xander had disappeared to. She hesitated, as she heard an engine behind the barn, and the clatter of a slamming door.

  Izzy watched as Xander emerged from the house, and crossed the terrace towards her. At least he’d be in jeans this morning. There’d been something so exquisitely enticing about him when he’d worn a tux that had whisked away every shred of her resistance, and left her folding into a helpless mess. Yet another reason why she hadn’t been able to sleep afterwards, and had tossed and turned, beating herself up over everything that hadn’t happened as much as the things that had. Despite having lost the suit, in his faded jeans and flip flops, sex-appeal still sizzled from every pore of that body of his, and his smile was electric.

  She tried to steady her voice. ‘Someone looks happy this morning.’ With any luck he wouldn’t notice she was personally looking only slightly more healthy than a corpse.

  ‘Yep, I am happy, because I’ve solved the problem of the extra furniture there’s no money for, and all at a bargain price you can afford.’

  Izzy’s eyes widened. There had to be a catch here. But Xander didn’t pause for breath.

  ‘I’ve sorted a house clearance for you, down in the village. Nicolas, the local Notaire, put me onto it earlier.’ So that explained why Xander was flying.

  ‘Wow, that’s amazing.’ Izzy stemmed her immediate impulse to jump up and down, high fiving the air, and made do with a full on grin instead. A house clearance in France was beyond her wildest dreams.

  ‘It’s an old man who has died, the house is crammed full, and the family want rid of the furniture. We’ve got a key for the house, for today and tomorrow, and we can take whatever we want. And I’ve drafted in some local muscle from the farm next door to do the lifting. There’s some class one junk in there for you.’

  ‘Thanks so much, that’s brilliant. Thank you so much.’ Izzy didn’t quite know how to react to Xander in whirlwind form, standing in front of her now, with his hands in his pockets, and a grin that pretty much stretched from the walnut tree to the barn. She fought her instant reaction to throw her arms around his neck. Talk about getting things moving. As for snogging the socks off him…

  ‘You’re welcome. Anytime.’ He gave a shrug, as if it were all in a day’s work for Superman.

  And with one completely unexpected move, Xander had turned the tables on her again. Not only had he taken on board her distress at his offer, he’d gone all out to find a way to make things work for her, on terms that she was comfortable with. Every time she thought the worst of Xander, he proved her wrong, and he came through for her. She was here, being paid a bomb to style his sister’s villa, and at the same time put together a furniture load that could well get The Vintage Cinema Club off the hook. Now he’d just ensured that she landed a load of terrific pieces that she could afford with the small amount of cash she had left from the cinema fund. Not to mention how much work he brought in for them at The Pink House. She owed him so much. Izzy couldn’t help but think he was obviously an awesome guy who loved helping people.

  ‘I’m so grateful for this.’ Now she stopped to think, he went that extra mile with everything in his life. His building projects were top flight, and no doubt he applied the same workaholic dynamism and talent to his film career too. And suddenly the penny dropped. Was this his reaction to the threat he had hanging over him.

  ‘That’s nice of you to say, but honestly don’t mention it.’

  ‘The way you make the most of every opportunity, and really go for it, is spectacular. It’s a total lesson for me in getting the most out of life. I’m really going to do that in future. In fact that’s going to be my new mantra.’ She took a few moments to move the words around in her head to form a snappy sound bite. ‘Grab the moment, and go for it. From now on, that’s going to be what I do too. Thank you, Xander.’

  ‘As I said before, you’re welcome. Anytime.’ And he inclined his head, and slid her a lazy, come-to-bed smile, that blew all thoughts of house clearances out of her head.

  62

  Sunday Lunchtime, 20th July

  IZZY & XANDER

  In Brantome, after the house clearance

  Tied up with pink ribbon

  Xander had not been exaggerating about the amount or the quality of what was on offer in the house clearance. When she had walked into the half light of the shuttered house, Izzy hadn’t been able to believe her eyes, or her luck. The p
lace was stuffed full, yet apparently abandoned by the distant family members, who had neither the time, nor the interest to clear out what was there. Along with stacks of everyday household paraphernalia which always sold well, there were also armoires, and chiffonnières, and desks, not to mention a stack of lovely beds, and a whole variety of garden furniture and ornaments. As her jaw dropped, and her excitement rose further, with each subsequent room she went in to, she was thanking her lucky stars she had Xander going all out on her behalf.

  Xander had apparently been able to pull off the deal, because he’d played tennis together with Nicolas the Notaire, every summer since they’d been ten. Advantage Xander.

  ‘I taught him every English swear word he knows.’ Had been Xander’s explanation. ‘What’s more I always used to let him win, because it was hellish hot on those courts in August, but I knew that compromise would come in handy one day.’

  They had agreed to store everything in Christina’s outbuilding, until it was picked up by the removal company, and delivered to the cinema in manageable loads, later. With the help of some burly local farmers, who came with two tractors and trailers and their own bottle of home distilled spirits, they’d worked solidly, transferring the furniture from the village house to the barn, and by mid-morning the next day they had loaded their last van-full.

  Xander waited until Izzy slammed the van door, and then set off, to drive slowly through the village. ‘There should be enough beds here to keep Derbyshire going for a few months. We’ll call by the Notaire’s in town on the way back, to drop the key off, and we can collect some bread for lunch.’

  ‘I’ll go to the bakery whilst you take the key back, if you like. It’s usually heaving in there at this time.’ Izzy brushed the dust streaks off her legs. ‘I’ll get you some strawberry tarts, as a thank you.’

  ‘I don’t need any more thank yous.’ He sent her a reassuring smile, but the way he inadvertently licked his lips showed he was a hundred percent in favour of the idea. ‘Watch out, you sound like a long-stay prisoner.’ He flashed a grin at her, then let his gaze drop to her knees. ‘Even your freckles are joining up into a tan.’

  She let that go without protest, idly watching his lean forearm, as he pushed the gear lever into place, wishing she didn’t want to run her finger along it. She leant back into her seat, and let the warm breeze from the window blow over her. It was true. She had settled in. After ten short days, the country lanes, the local towns, and the routines felt comfortingly familiar. And so, unnervingly, did Xander, when he wasn’t either annoying the shit out of her, or making her stomach do somersaults. Hard to think that in a couple of days it would all be over.

  When she arrived at the bakery, the queue stretched out of the shop and along the cobbled street. She took her place at the end of it, breathing in the smell of freshly baked bread, hardly noticing the two women, who arrived behind her. English, and ex pat local, she gathered, from their animated chatter, which she couldn’t help overhearing. She turned and tried a smile, to indicate that she could understand what they were saying, but they were oblivious.

  She shrugged and couldn’t help but listen to the buzz of their chatter. Pool liners, barbecue engagements, champagne offers, all helped to make the time pass, as the queue inched forward. Then Izzy froze. One minute she was hearing about arguments over who was doing what at a flower festival in St Jean, and the next she heard the name Blackman.

  Blackman? Her spine went rigid.

  ‘That poor boy’s still on his own, all these years later. He gave her everything too.’

  ‘It’s not as if they can’t afford it. The vineyards at the Chateau are what they play at.’

  Which Chateau? They had to be talking about someone else.

  ‘Apparently he’s desperate to take her back, always has been.’

  An ice-shiver jived through Izzy’s body. She’d have run, but her feet were superglued to the pavers. She tried but failed to block out the words.

  ‘Astrid’s a high flyer, but now they’re working together again, it’ll only be a matter of time.’

  Astrid. It had to be Xander they were talking about. But was he desperate to take her back?

  Her ears rang, the street was spinning around her as the images from the last ten days fell like a series of dominos in her head. As each memory thudded down like a tombstone, she reassessed her take on events. It was obvious when she thought about it. This explained why he’d seemed so happy since they had arrived in France, because he’d known the woman he’d been waiting for all this time, was finally free, and that he could have her back again. That kiss in the pizzeria was probably to fast-forward proceedings. Nothing like a snog with another woman to make the jealousy kick in, and bring the ex-wife off the fence. And he never hid how highly he thought of Astrid. As for taking Izzy out for dinner, again that would have been so they’d be seen in public, to encourage Astrid to rush in and re-stake her claim. As soon as she’d seen Astrid, Izzy knew she shouldn’t ever have registered on Xander’s radar. Izzy had no one to blame here, except herself. Small and ashamed didn’t begin to cover it.

  Words from behind floated over her shoulder. The chatter behind had moved on to firemen’s dances but Izzy was lost in her own thoughts.

  Then she was into the shop, and back out on the street again, with a crusty French loaf, and a perfect box of strawberry tarts, tied up with pink ribbon.

  63

  Sunday Afternoon, 20th July

  IZZY & XANDER

  Out haymaking in France

  Long grass

  ‘So are you quiet because you wanted to sort out the barn, and I took us haymaking instead?’

  However fast Izzy was hurrying home across the prickly grass of the hay meadow, Xander was managing to keep up with her, firing questions over her shoulder.

  ‘Who’s quiet?’ She was almost gasping now, because the rushing was making her breathless. ‘It was great throwing bales around, and riding back on top of the loaded trailer was fun. I loved having plums in eau de vie in the farmhouse afterwards, and I don’t mind that we’re all sweaty and covered in hay seeds…’ All she wanted was to get back to Christina’s place, and she hoped that gabbled speech would be enough from her until they got there.

  In fact haymaking had been an ideal diversion, when all she had bouncing around her head was what the women had said at the bakery.

  ‘You disappeared into the barn as soon as we got back from town, and barely ate any lunch either. Are you still cross I offered you money on Friday?’ He was very persistent.

  She rolled her eyes, exasperated, trying to find a reply that would bring this to a close. ‘It doesn’t always have to be about money.’

  A debrief from Luce would be so useful here. What the hell was she supposed to do, when she found out the guy she wasn’t supposed to care about anyway, but still fancied the pants off, was very likely still in love with someone else? She simply had to block out the attraction she felt for him, and try to get through the next few days with her dignity intact. He had made it clear from the start she was a one night stand he’d fallen into against his better judgement, and if she’d read anything more into it than that, it was her own fault for being so stupid.

  ‘Believe me, if anyone knows that, I do.’ Xander’s voice was grave. ‘When you watch someone die of a debilitating illness, you learn there are times when money is no use at all. It changes how you look at life. I’ll never argue about money again.’

  Shit. ‘I’m sorry. I should have known better.’

  She slowed to a walk, and he fell into step next to her, and glanced at his watch. ‘You know, if we get a move on sorting the barn, we can go out for ice-cream afterwards.’

  And just like that, he’d moved on to somewhere else she didn’t want to go. For her own self-preservation, she was done with hanging out in cafés with Xander. And she wasn’t going to pussyfoot about with vague excuses, and get into more trouble. This time she was going to man up and come clean.

 
‘You know, I think I’d rather give that one a miss – I’d rather not upset what’s going on with you and Astrid.’ She tried to sound matter of fact, but her voice wavered more than she’d planned. That was a diplomatic reply. It brought the Astrid thing out in the open, without bigging it up too much.

  ‘What?’ Xander stopped, and for a minute all she could hear was the sound of the crickets in the grass, and the buzz of bees, as they dipped in and out of the wild roses in the hedge.

  ‘I know you’ve been trying to get her back, and I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me personally, but if it’s alright with you, I’d like to stop being paraded in public to help your cause.’ She gave a dismissive sniff, to show she didn’t give a damn. ‘I heard all about it in town, the women behind me in the bakery queue were very enlightening.’

  Xander spat out the words with a curse. ‘You surely can’t think…? Me and Astrid?’ The beads of sweat were standing out on his forehead, in between the hay seeds sticking to his skin, as he screwed up his eyes against the beating sun. ‘Is that why you’re quiet?’

  Izzy fixed her gaze on the pulse in his dirt streaked neck. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Jeeeeesus, some things I don’t believe.’ He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. ‘Come here…’

  One broad hand landed on each of her shoulders, and he spun her around to face him. ‘Let me show you who I want.’ His voice was gruff as his stubble rubbed against her cheek, and somehow she caught a glimpse of his eyelashes, closing against his tanned cheekbones.

  As she opened her mouth to take a breath, his lips brushed across hers, sending a convulsion of shivers through her body, then with a low growl in his throat, his tongue pushed through and she tasted the whole glorious velvet of him. Dark, sensuous plum, mixed with salty sweat from the hayfield.

  ‘A skirt for haymaking is nice…’ The burr of his voice blurred back into the kiss again.