by Rhoda Baxter
Looks like I'll be in on Thursday to see the people from ME HQ. I'll try and pop by your office in the am.
Tom
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
I thought you were on leave?
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
I am, but I can't refuse this, can I? Besides, I can't leave Dierdre with the people from Doha HQ. She'll try to tell them I'm crazy.
Chapter 12
With two days to go to the ball, Priya had solved the lack of entertainment, by getting a nephew to DJ for them. Stevie and Alice surveyed the front room. This room had the least furniture to move out. Stevie picked up the corner of the rug that covered most of the floor. There were polished floorboards underneath. Perfect for a dance floor.
"We need to block out the windows somehow." Stevie pulled out her tape measure. Blackout cloth could be expensive and these windows were so tall they would need quite a lot of material. She ran her fingers over the sill. "Why is there a hinge here?"
Alice looked over her shoulder. "I'd never noticed those."
The hinges were small and were about half way across the width of the sill, a few inches from the edge. Stevie put her fingers on the edge of the sill and pulled. Nothing happened. Alice crouched down and checked under the sill. "I think there's a lid of some sort. It's been painted shut," she said.
"Do you think Evelyn would mind if we unstuck it," said Stevie. "I've got a feeling this might be the solution to our light problem..."
A few minutes later, she was running a knife along the edge, trying to dislodge as little paint as possible. She gave the sill another good tug. Protesting slightly, the wooden flap came open. Inside was a compartment containing two boards, one of which had bronze hooks on the top.
She pulled one partway out. Wisps of dust curled from it.
"What is that?" Alice said.
"I'm not totally sure, but I think they're blackout boards. From the war." Stevie pulled the board all the way up. "I've heard of these. They should fit on the windows." She spotted the two corresponding hooks on the top of the window frame. They too had been painted over. "The one with the hooks fits on top and this one fits the bottom. They should seal out the light completely."
She laid the board on the floor. Her hands were covered in grime. "We'll have to give them a good cleaning."
"It's going to make a real mess of the paintwork," said Alice dubiously.
"Doesn't matter for the ball. It'll be dark in here. We can sort it out after." Still, it was probably best to run it past Evelyn.
* * * *
"I'd forgotten about those. Frank was really excited about them. I think we tried them out in the library, just for fun. They do work really well," Evelyn said, when they asked. "Of course you can dig them out. So long as you touch up the paint work afterwards." She smiled. "It'll be rather nice to have those accessible. Make a feature of it."
So Stevie and Alice spent the rest of the day in the back courtyard, wiping years of dust off huge wooden boards, which were painted white on one side and black on the other.
As they worked, Stevie commented on the number of emails that she was getting requesting tickets.
"That'll be some of the people from the TripHoppers forum," said Alice. "I posted a note on there."
"That would explain it," said Stevie. "I've sold nearly all of them now." She paused to turn her board round. A sudden thought occurred to her. "Alice, these people on your forum, would they mostly be teenagers?"
"Dunno," said Alice. "Suppose so."
"Um... You might want to mention that they can't have any alcohol unless they've got ID."
Alice snorted. "Seriously? That's a bit lame isn't it? It's a party after all."
"It's illegal to sell alcohol to under-eighteens. Your gran could lose her license."
Alice said nothing.
"So, will you pop something on there, just so that they're aware? Please?"
"Okay. If you think you need to," Alice said. "I think you're fussing over nothing."
"I'm not. Trust me."
Alice merely grunted. She pulled out her iPhone and put on her earphones. Stevie could hear a tinny version of the latest TripHoppers album seeping out. She shook her head. Teenagers! They were all so full of attitude. She wondered if she'd been like that at that age. She realised that Alice wasn't much older than she had been when Marsh became her guardian. And Marsh had been about the same age as she was now. She'd been a lot less sunny than Alice. Goodness, what must Marsh have had to cope with!
* * * *
From: Jemima Eustace-Green
To: Stevie Winfield
Hi
Have you got any tickets left for your charity ball? Can you confirm that Pete from TripHoppers is coming?
What's the best way to pay?
Thanks
Jem
##
From: Stevie Winfield
To: Jemima Eustace-Green
I can confirm that Pete Gosling has a ticket to the ball and should be coming.
To pay--you can either send a cheque made out to the 'Norham Gardens Ladies charity group' or pay by PayPal to my account. I will acknowledge payment and send the tickets to you by first class post.
Best
Stevie Winfield. Organiser.
* * * *
Stevie scrubbed, trying to get rid of the black spots where muck from the boards had splashed on her skin. She had abandoned her shoes and decided that her clothes would have to go in the wash that night. Or the bin. On the other hand, the boards were nearly done. Once they were dry, they could be hung back up in the right place.
She smiled at her reflection and retied her hair in a firm knot. Despite the dirt, she was enjoying the feeling of a job well done.
The tiles in the hall were cool underfoot as she padded back. The doorbell rang, and she decided to answer it. After all, she knew just about everyone who came to the house now.
Vienna stood on the doorstep, impossibly elegant in pressed linen trousers and blue cotton blouse. She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. "Hi. Is Tom in?"
"No."
Vienna looked Stevie up and down. "Can I come in?" she said. "Leave him a note?"
"Oh yes, of course." Stevie opened the door fully and stepped out of the way.
There was an antique letter desk in the hall where Evelyn kept the guest book and a stack of notelets for messages. Stevie gestured toward it. She felt something more was required of her, she said, "Tom's gone to work. He had a meeting."
"Oh. I see." Vienna dug a silver pen out of her Lulu Guinness handbag and started to write. She was wearing blue strappy sandals the exact same shade as her top, and had sparkly toenails.
Stevie shuffled her bare feet and tried to hide the tidemarks left by the black dirt. She really needed to do her toes.
"How are the preparations going? Everything under control?" Vienna's hair fell in a perfect glossy curtain by her face. She pushed it back and continued writing.
"I think so."
"It must be terribly tiring for you," Vienna folded the note paper and put her pen away. "Working hard all day." She eyed Stevie's spattered t-shirt. "And then having to take the bus back to London. Must be exhausting."
"Oh no, I'm staying here for the moment." Stevie crossed her arms. "Evelyn's kindly let me have one of the rooms."
Vienna's eyebrow went up. "Oh, that's lovely!" When her eyebrows had returned to their normal place, she looked around the sun-filled hall. "This is such a gorgeous house. We used to come and stay here some weekends. I've got some beautiful memories from back then.
"Of course, it wasn't done up like it is now. Evelyn and Frank have done wonders with the old place." She smiled, her eyes far awa
y. "We used to have lovely dinners on a trestle table in the garden, drinking Frank's wine. Frank was Tom's father."
Her focus returned to Stevie, "He had the most wonderful wine collection. I suppose it's all gone, now that he's no longer around to collect it."
Was this her way of telling Stevie that she was part of the family? Stevie decided she really disliked Vienna.
Alice appeared, also barefoot and grimy. "Oh, hi. It's Vienna, isn't it?" She smiled and pushed her fringe back. "Are you after Uncle Tom? He's out."
"Yes I know. I've left a message." Vienna, lowered her sunglasses. "Well, I guess I'd better let you get back to whatever you were doing. Tell Tom I'll see him tomorrow." Vienna gave them both another dazzling smile and left with a waft of something that smelled delicate and expensive.
Stevie shut the door behind Vienna and fought the urge to stick her tongue out at it.
"She pees me off," said Alice. "Gran's looking for you."
Stevie frowned. "Any particular reason?"
"Dunno." She put her headphones back in. "I'll come help you finish off in a minute. I've just got to phone someone." She sauntered off before Stevie could reply.
* * * *
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
How did your 'informal meeting' go?
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
Meeting went very well thank you. I'm on the train home now.
There was some discussion about the things Dierdre and I had suggested in our presentations, but mostly, I think it was a personality contest to see which one of us they'd prefer to work with.
Dierdre may be formidable and sneaky, but she doesn't have a personality. So, it's all good.
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
Tom Blackwood! I never thought I'd hear you being so bitchy. And about a colleague too!
You should never underestimate that woman. I'm sure she has hidden wiles.
How did you bear to tear yourself away from the lovely Stevie for a whole day?
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
You're right. I probably am underestimating Dierdre. It wouldn't surprise me if she pulls a sense of humour out from somewhere, just so that she can dazzle them with it.
Re: Stevie. I managed fine, thanks.
On the other hand, I've got a headache again. It must be London that makes me feel ill. Hopefully, the sunshine in Doha will cure me of that. :)
* * * *
Stevie went back to cleaning boards. At some point in the afternoon Tom went past, back from London. She was aware of him before she saw him and felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
"Where's Uncle Tom going?" Alice said.
"He's cleaning out the wine cellar, hopefully."
"Good. It won't be just us covered in dust then." Alice returned to her task.
It didn't take them much longer to finish off the boards. In the library, Stevie and Alice attached all the lower boards, immediately dimming the room. The higher boards would require a ladder.
Alice eyed the heavy oak panels dubiously. "They're quite heavy. Might be better to see if Uncle Tom can help."
Stevie had to admit she was right. The boards were heavy and slotting the lower ones in had taken considerable effort. To try and lift the upper ones to the tops of the windows would pose a serious risk of putting their backs out. Perhaps if she and Tom were to take a side each, it could be done safely.
"Okay, but before we do anything, I think we deserve a break."
"Good idea." Alice pulled her phone out of her pocket. "I'll see you in a bit, right?"
Stevie smiled. "Right."
In the kitchen, Evelyn and Priya were having tea and eating Sri Lankan sweets. "Here, try one." Evelyn gave her what looked like a rolled up pancake.
Stevie bit into it. Warm, sweet, coconutty filling flowed into her mouth. She chewed, letting the flavours mix. "That is heavenly. What is it?"
"Pancakes with cinnamon, coconut and treacle," said Priya. "One of my favourite things ever. They're best served warm so we'll pop them in the oven before we set them out."
"Mmmm." Stevie was barely listening as she took another bite.
"How are the boards doing?" Evelyn poured the tea.
"All done. We've fitted the bottom ones. We're going to need Tom's help with the top ones."
"I'm glad Tom's been here this week," said Evelyn. She absent-mindedly stirred a tea bag round and round a mug. "It's nice to have a man around the house again. There are some jobs that are just more suited to the male of the species." She blinked, as though surprised she'd said anything out loud. She fished out the tea bag and flicked it into the bin. "I daresay he's been enjoying himself. Could you be a dear and take a mug of tea for Tom. And one of those pancake things."
Stevie nodded, her mouth full of pancake.
"You can see how the cellar is getting on too."
The door to the cellar was ajar. Stevie knocked before entering carefully, in case he had put anything by the door. "Tom. I've brought tea and nibbles."
When her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she saw Tom standing on a stepladder, taping liner to the top shelf. He held the Sellotape in his teeth, making it impossible for him reply. Rather incongruously, a blue and white feather duster was sticking out of his jeans pocket.
Stevie grinned. "There's something you don't often see," she said, knowing he wouldn't be able to reply. "A man with a feather duster."
Tom narrowed his eyes at her and spat the tape out from between his teeth. "I've dusted the wine rack." He sounded pleased with himself. "So everything in here is clean now."
Stevie looked round. Everything on the shelves was neatly boxed up and placed on the floor. The floor had been swept and even the rat poison containers had been wiped clean. The room smelled of disinfectant. Tom was clearly a perfectionist in whatever he did. She found herself watching his hands as he smoothed down the lining paper and taped it. There was not a hint of tremor. They were big, capable hands. And probably very sensitive. And thorough.
She reminded herself that he was out of bounds. "That's great." She said, trying to sound like the professional she should be. "Thank you for doing that."
"No problem." He finished the last bit and descended the ladder, giving Stevie a view of his behind, which was quite nice, despite the feather duster. "Now, you mentioned tea?"
Stevie held the mug out to him, as though trying to ward him off with it. With the stepladder in the way, the cellar seemed suddenly very small and he was now within touching distance. She could see the tiny smudge of dust on his cheek and smell the antiseptic soap on his hands. She fought the urge to take a step back. It would never do to let him know she liked him. He had a girlfriend. Oh goodness. Vienna. She'd forgotten all about that.
"Your girlfriend came round."
Tom's forehead furrowed. "What girl friend? I don't have a girlfriend."
"Vienna."
"Vienna's just a friend." He gave a small smile. "We're not together."
"Really? You seem pretty together to me." It came out before she'd had time to think about it. Damn. It sounded like she cared.
Tom took step closer to her. He was so close she could barely breathe. There was nothing between them but a few inches of air and one hot mug of tea. She found herself focusing on his mouth. There was a hint of stubble on his cheeks and chin. She wondered if it would scratch if he kissed her. She forced herself to look up into blue eyes.
"I told you the other day," he said, softly, "I don't do commitment. All my relationships are on a strictly casual basis. I have lots of lady friends, but I haven't had a steady girlfriend in years. I just don't have the time." He took the mug from her hands, hi
s fingers grazing hers and making her jump and spill some of the tea. He moved the mug to his other hand and shook the first one. "Ow. That's hot."
"Sorry, sorry." Stevie backed up. "I'll go get you some ice."
"No. I'm fine." He examined his hand. "I'll live."
She practically ran out of the cellar and up the few steps. As Tom bent over to retrieve the plate with the pancake, she saw him smile, a tiny, knowing smile. He knew she fancied him. And he'd expected it. The arrogant, supercilious...
She turned round and stalked back to the kitchen, ignoring him as he followed her.
When they reached the kitchen the others looked up.
Alice was leaning against a counter. "Uncle Tom, your floozie came round."
"She's not a floozie," said Tom. "She's a solicitor."
"Oh yeah? Where does she solicit then? King's Cross."
Stevie grabbed her own tea and stormed off before she could hear his reply. She needed a moment to herself.
Chapter 13
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
She wants me! I thought she wasn't interested, but now I can see she is. She wants me.
I can't do anything about it anyway, but it's still nice to know.
Tom
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
What makes you think she wants you, you arrogant toss pot?
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
Oh come on, you KNOW when someone wants you. Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about.
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
So, she wants you. And you clearly want her. So what's stopping you?
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
I told you. She wants something nice and stable. I can't give it to her. Especially if I'm going to move to Doha sometime soon.