"Don't be silly. Cecily told me to escort you, so escort you I shall." He smiled kindly, as though she were a fractious child.
"Not still peeved with me, are you, Sophie? Run along, there's a good girl.
I'll be _back for you in an hour."
Before Sophie could voice her objections Alexander was off, making for home at a pace that tired Sophie to watch. Irritably she banged the door shut and went upstairs to shower, fulminating, not for the first time recently, over her beloved grandmother's autocratic ways, and convinced the last thing in the world Alexander really wanted to do was potter about in a chilly old cottage on a Saturday.
Nevertheless, Sophie was ready and waiting when Alexander's Mercedes roadster slid to a stop outside the gate exactly an hour later. By this time she felt more composed, largely due to the fact that her hair was shining, her face made up with great care to look as nature intended it to look, and she was wearing her favourite brown cords and cream wool shirt, with an apricot mohair sweater knotted loosely over her shoulders by its sleeves. Not of a mind to let Alexander think she was over-eager, she deliberately hid in her bedroom and let him ring the doorbell twice before going downstairs to let him in.
Her greeting was coolly polite as she asked him if he'd care for coffee before they set off.
Alexander, dressed in ancient denims which clung lovingly to his long legs, wore a shirt rather similar to Sophie's, with a fleece-lined denim jacket slung over his shoulders. He assented with enthusiasm, settling himself on a high stool in the kitchen while she made instant coffee in yellow pottery mugs.
"I'm sorry about the other night, Sophie," he said, taking the wind out of her sails.
"I think you totally misunderstood what I said."
"I don't remember what you said," lied Sophie without turning a hair.
"I just wasn't feeling well. My dinner disagreed with me."
"I was afraid the news about the new premises was the real culprit."
His smile was disarming.
"I promise you, Sophie, it was sheer coincidence that Sam Jefford happened to find the ideal place in Arlesford. I'm not trying to breathe down your neck, scout's honour.
Not that the idea lacks appeal," he added very deliberately.
Sophie scowled at him over her coffee.
"I wish you wouldn't say things like that, Alexander. You never used to. I preferred it when you treated me like part of the furniture."
"Did I?" Alexander shook his head disapprovingly. "No wonder you don't want to work for me any more!"
"You know that isn't the reason," she said, exasperated.
"I just want a change. It's nothing personal."
"Then if it's nothing personal, my little friend, what objection do you have to. seeing something of me socially?" Alexander's handsome face wore an expression of such friendly reason, Sophie thawed a little.
Well, none, I suppose," she said with caution.
"If that's all you have in mind, fine."
"Good." He slid off the stool, and took her by the hand.
"Come on, then, let's go."
The air held a tang of autumn, the leaves on the trees just beginning to turn along the sunlit minor roads Alexander chose in preference to the swift, busy bypass which linked Arlesford to Deansbury. Sophie relaxed in the luxurious car, not at all averse _to a journey enjoyed in such comfort rather than in the bus she would have caught otherwise. And any traces of constraint she felt were soon dispelled by Alexander's matter-of-fact attitude as he weighed up the merits of the four applicants Sophie had lined up for the following week, then went on to discuss the possibility of winning the job of designing a large, luxury hotel on the river at Brading.
"Are you likely to get it, do you think?" asked Sophie.
"The competition's bound to be fierce."
Alexander was optimistic. By a stroke of luck he had obtained outline planning permission for the owner of the land in the first place, which gave him an edge when the owner sold the land to the hotel chain.
"Fancy taking a look at the spot?" he asked. "We'll still have plenty of time to look over the cottage this afternoon."
Sophie agreed readily. Brading was a picturesque place, hardly more than a large village on the banks of the Avon, and very popular with people who commuted from it daily to Bristol and Bath and even as far as London. The site for the hotel was a prime spot, with riparian rights along a sizeable stretch of river. Alexander parked the car near a group of willows overlooking a view of trees and sunlit, slow moving water, and cattle grazing on the water meadows on the far side of the river.
"The hotel aims to be one of those places you can get away from it all for a restorative type of weekend break. Indoor heated pool, Jacuzzis, gymnasium, landscaped grounds with tennis courts, as many of the original trees as possible." Alexander's eyes gleamed as if he could see it all taking shape on his _drawing-board.
"Sounds idyllic." Sophie hesitated, then curiosity got the better of her.
"Is the house you're buying near here?"
Alexander nodded.
"Would you like to see it?" His eyes were indulgent as he smiled at her, and
Sophie's answering smile was wry.
"What is it?" he asked quickly.
"I was just thinking how kind and brotherly you are today!"
"Yes," he agreed smugly.
"I am, aren't I?"
Sophie laughed as he drove off, looking about her with interest as the car turned off on an unadopted road which led along the riverbank for a mile or so without sight of another house until it ended in high laurel hedges and tall wooden gates.
"This is Willow Reach," said Alexander in a proprietorial tone. He helped
Sophie out of the car then twisted the iron ring that-'served as handle and swung open one of the metal-studded gates for her to go through into a garden she gazed at in wide-eyed delight. The smooth green lawns and herbaceous borders were conventional enough, but her attention was caught immediately by an avenue of yews cut in fantastic shapes, thrones, flowers, birds and beasts of every description drawing the eye towards a grotto where beckoning stone nymphs balanced stone conch-shells above a marble-rimmed pool.
"The fountain needs repair, I'm afraid," said Alexander.
"What do you think of my new home?"
Sophie tore her eyes away from the grotto and turned to the house, which was built of age-mellowed stone to a design which was strangely timeless.
Countless small panes of glass had been used to make up the windows which dominated the mellow rose- gold walls, and a wistaria-hung veranda ran along the lower half of the house to form a balcony for the upper rooms.
This," said Alexander softly, 'was the first house I ever designed, long before you came to work with me, Sophie."
"It's quite lovely, but Puzzled, Sophie turned from the house to the garden, then back again.
"If you designed it the house must be new, of course, yet it doesn't look modern, and I just can't believe that the atmosphere in this garden was achieved in a few short years."
"Clever girl," he said with approval.
"The original house was left empty for years, then the owner died, and this part of his estate was sold by the heir. My father acquired it, knocked down some of the house, which was much bigger than this, but kept all the building material worth saving and gave me the job of not only designing a house to rise, phoenix-like, from the ruins of the old one, but to ensure it blended happily with the existing garden, once it had been cleared. When Father first brought me here I quite expected to find a princess fast asleep somewhere in the middle of it!"
Sophie wandered round the house, peering through the windows at empty light-filled rooms with gleaming wood floors.
"Do you have a key, Alexander? Can we go in?"
"Afraid not. I haven't actually signed the contract yet."
They spent a peaceful hour exploring the delights _of the walled garden on the other side of the grotto, where apples and pears ripened o
n espaliered trees and the autumn sun was warm.
Afterwards they strolled down to the small, private jetty, where a dilapidated rowing-boat moved languidly to and fro at its mooring.
They sat on an old stone bench near a line of willows at the water's edge, and Alexander explained how luck had been with him the night he'd been invited to a dinner given as a farewell party for the couple who lived in the house.
"They had actually sold it, packed up and moved out, and were almost on the point of leaving for Australia to join their children, when the sale fell through."
"So you jumped in."
"I couldn't resist the opportunity. I got on to Sam Jefford with the speed of light, believe me, when they told me he was handling the resale."
"When will you move in?" ‘“As soon as I can. I need basics like curtains and some carpets, and in any case I thought I'd wait until Kate and David's wedding before I move out of the Chantry."
Sophie was very thoughtful as they went back to the car, surprised to find herself almost unwilling to leave the tranquillity of the hidden, dreaming garden. "It's so beautiful here," she said, as Alexander swung the heavy gate shut and twisted the great iron ring to secure it.
"Too quiet for some," said Alexander.
"Delphine, you mean?"
"Can you imagine her tucked away from the world here?" His tone was derisory.
"She was unenthusiastic _about living in this part of the world at all. She did her best to persuade me to set up practice in London, even go to work for one of the big international firms. Willow Reach was never meant for someone like Delphine."
Sophie was in total agreement, unable to picture the very contemporary
Delphine in that sleeping, secluded garden, glad the gold, predatory eyes had never looked in disparagement on the house that was Alexander's brainchild.
As they set off again Alexander suggested they lunch at an inn on the outskirts of Arlesford to give them energy for the task ahead.
"Energy?" said Sophie with suspicion.
"What am I expected to do?"
"Hold the other end of a tape, if nothing else." Alexander ushered her into the comfortable restaurant bar of the Feathers, where a fire was burning in the large cowled fireplace, regardless of the sunshine outside. They ordered home-made meat and potato pies, free of garnish of any kind other than great crusty rolls and fresh farmhouse butter.
"No use asking for chilli con carne or pasta here," said Alexander, as they began on their meal with appetite.
"The lady of the house makes everything herself, and believes in plain, homespun fare cooked with loving care."
"Amen," said Sophie reverently, mouth full.
"This is the first square meal I've eaten since those horrible beef olives."
"Which made you so crotchety, I suggest you never cook them again."
Alexander grinned at her across his tankard of beer.
_"You were the one who made me angry, telling me I looked too much of a fright to attract any man," she countered, throwing down the gauntlet.
"Is that what you thought I meant?" he said blankly.
"Good God!
Slight communication problem, I assure you, Sophie. I meant something very different. "
"Whatever it was, I don't want to know," she said flatly.
"Let's keep things friendly. Draw a veil over Wednesday."
Alexander seemed on the point of saying something, then shrugged and went on with his lunch, following Sophie's lead when she introduced more neutral topics. After a pleasant hour or so they went on into Arlesford where
Alexander parked his car in a small car park near the river, not eager to risk leaving his beloved Mercedes outside Ilex Cottage, where only a narrow walk separated the houses from the churchyard.
"Cecily says the people next door have the spare key, which saves us driving out to Greenacre first," said Alexander, as they walked up the steepish hill towards the church.
"You'll be able to meet your new neighbours."
Sophie preferred to do this on her own, and insisted Alexander wait some distance away while she knocked on the door of the adjoining cottage. The elderly lady who handed over the key was friendly and very jolly, also unashamedly curious about the tall, fair man waiting along the lane.
"That your husband, dear?" she asked hopefully.
Sophie denied it firmly.
"No. Mr. Paget's come with me to do a survey on the house," she said, loud
enough for Alexander to hear clearly, since Mrs. Perkins admitted to being a little hard of hearing.
"You might have introduced me," objected Alexander, as he unlocked the door of Ilex Cottage. "Even if I can't count myself honoured enough to be your husband."
"No point. You're hardly likely to meet Mrs. Perkins again."
The look Sophie received was quizzical as Alexander ushered her into the sitting-room, which looked bigger than anticipated.
"Because it's empty, I suppose," said Sophie, delighted, and ran through into the tiny kitchen, which was fitted with a very up-to-date oven and refrigerator, to her surprise. After a rapid inspection of the neat little cupboards Sophie made for the stairs which led from a door in the sitting-room to a tiny landing between a cupboard of a bathroom and the solitary bedroom, which boasted a bow-window like the room below.
Alexander followed her up with more care, obliged to duck his tall head before entering the bedroom. He winced at the sight of the wallpaper which was, Sophie had to admit, somewhat arresting, with a design of roses and looping ribbon bows, and quite overpowered the proportions of the room.
Alexander removed strips of paper in strategic areas to look for damp, but found nothing to cause concern.
Then he swung himself up into the loft space and spent some time inspecting the roof from the inside with a powerful torch, while Sophie went back downstairs to indulge in much mental interior decoration. By the time
Alexander joined her she had dispensed with the _patterned wallpaper, painted the walls white, hung yellow and white chintz at the windows and set flowering plants in the deep window embrasure.
"Isn't it perfect?" she said blissfully, as Alexander ducked into the room, brushing cobwebs from his hair.
"I'm not certain about perfect, but as far as I can see the roof's all right and there's no sign of dry rot. You've got a bit of woodworm, of course inevitable in a house of this age but nothing that can't be treated."
"So it's all right?" she pressed.
"Nothing to stop me moving in?"
"I'll see," he said noncommittally and it was another two hours before he passed final judgement, confirming that the basic structure was sound, there was no sign of settlement anywhere, the drainage system was satisfactory, and only a few tiles on the roof would need to be replaced.
Sophie flung her arms round Alexander and kissed his cheek in euphoria. He laughed, returning the embrace with interest.
"If that's my reward for a survey, what would I get for a helping hand with the decorating?"
CHAPTER FIVE
Sophie leaned back against his joined hands, her eyes frankly calculating.
You, Alexander? Can you really paint and so on? "
"I'd have you know I'm the Picasso of the home- decorating world," he said solemnly.
"And, as regards the " so on", I'm unequalled!"
"No, seriously! Would you help me do the place up?"
"I take it you're willing to put up with my company so long as I make myself useful!"
"That's right." Sophie pulled free, laughing. "Perry, too, if he can paint."
"I claim sole rights or none at all," said Alexander promptly.
"Including Julian Brett," he added. - "Julian wouldn't know one end of a paintbrush from the other." She eyed him uncertainly.
"Do you mean it?"
"I do." He strolled over to the door to examine the lock.
"But I'd want something in return, of course."
"Oh, yes?"
"Help me
choose curtains and carpets for Willow Reach." He looked up, grinning at the surprise on her face.
"I'm making Kate a present of the stuff at the Chantry, naturally. Besides,
Willow Reach has a very definite personality all its own. I want to please it with my choice."
_Sophie smiled.
"You talk as though the house were a person."
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