A Jersey Kiss (Jersey Romance Series)

by Georgina Troy

“Not that good, obviously.” Bea stopped pedalling again. “He’s sending out an estate agent to value the house and they’ll be able to make a more informed decision after that. I should know later this week, hopefully. At least then I’ll have a better idea about what I’m dealing with.”

  “Good for you. I’m sure it’ll be good news. And if it isn’t you’ll just have to try at another bank.”

  “I have,” admitted Bea. “This is the third bank I’ve contacted. I did the other two online and spoke to someone, but they weren’t positive either. I tried them as Mr Peters knew my aunt and I’ve banked with them since I was a teenager when Aunt Annabel opened an account with them for me. I only looked at the online sites to see what I could expect. I didn’t think it was going to be so difficult. It’s not as if I owe money all over the place.”

  Paul stopped his running machine and went over to sit at a torturous looking contraption in the corner. “Did he remember you?”

  Bea nodded. “He did. I was going to ask him if he recalled her mentioning anything about A Jersey Kiss, but he started chatting about Aunt Annabel and how they’d known each other since primary school then he went off on a tandem and I stopped listening.”

  Paul let the handle he’d been pulling on revert back to its original position and stared at her thoughtfully, before bending over laughing hysterically. He wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands, before laughing again.

  “What?” Bea frowned.

  “I presume you meant ‘tangent’.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Never mind,” he said starting his workout again and shaking his head. “You carry on.”

  I don’t think he works full time any more, he’s probably near to retirement age if he’s known my aunt for so long, and it seems fairly difficult to get an appointment with him, but I think he’s my best bet to get the mortgage secured.”

  Bea took a few deep breaths to try and slow her panting. She couldn’t wait for her session with Paul to finish. It was one thing doing this exercise lark for fun, but another entirely when she had so much decorating work she should be doing during any free time. “That’s it,” she said climbing off the bike. “I’m off for a shower and then home.”

  ****

  Bea raced home the following lunchtime with her shopping. She struggled into the house with the three overflowing shopping bags and dumped them down on the worktop in the kitchen.

  “You should have asked me to help you carry those,” Luke said, poking his head around the kitchen door. “You don’t usually come home at lunchtime.”

  Bea quickly unpacked the frozen vegetables and pushed them into her fridge freezer. “No, but today I’ve got to spend the afternoon with a client on his yacht.”

  “Sounds fun.” Luke raised his eyebrows and smiled, catching a tin of soup as it rolled off the side.

  “Not really. He’s a nice bloke, but I’ve got so much to do back at the office that I really don’t need to take time out to sit and chat, but I registered his boat for him the other day and he isn’t often over in Jersey and wanted to treat me to lunch.”

  “On his boat?”

  “Yup,” she said finishing packing away her food and turning to face him. “You don’t have to look so concerned, I’m a big girl and I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

  Luke laughed. “I didn’t think you couldn’t. You seem pretty feisty for a titch.”

  Bea placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes. “Really? Do you want to see how feisty I can be?” He shook his head. “Anyway, Tom will be coming along.”

  “Tom Brakespear?”

  Bea nodded, not letting on she was aware they knew each other. “He’s the director I report to at work.”

  “Right.” Luke nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I suppose I’d better get on. I don’t want you complaining that you’re paying us to stand around gossiping.”

  “Haha, very funny,” she said, unable to miss the change in atmosphere between the two of them. “Coffee?” She wondered if it would be more sensible to terminate his contract with her. Then again, surely to do such a thing without any obvious reason would make him wonder why she’d changed her mind. She pulled off her black linen jacket, hanging it over the back of a chair. “I’ve got time for a quickie before I have to race off and I’m too thirsty not to have one myself.”

  “Please,” he answered, leaning back and half-sitting on the edge of the table, his palms resting on either side of him. “Are you still sure you want us to get on with the plastering in the hallway?”

  She passed him his drink, studying his face in an effort to try and spot any hint of criminal behaviour. Idiot, she thought, what would a money launderer look like anyway, you and me that’s what. She thought about her training for her trust exams and how the lecturers had emphasised the fact that it’s the people you don’t suspect that could be the criminals. It’s what made them so hard to spot. “I’d love to say leave it, but if anyone slams the front door, or even closes it with slightly too much force, plaster rains down on them, and it’ll only get worse. So, if you can organise to have someone start as soon as possible, I'd be grateful.”

  Bea wished she could simply ask him about his business partner and what went wrong, but couldn’t risk becoming involved in something that could end up with her losing her home, or even worse, having to move in with her father and stepmother. She shivered.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  Bea nodded. “Fine, just a bit stressed that’s all.”

  “Your ex?”

  “Yup, he sends me texts every so often with a countdown of the days until D-Day.”

  “D-Day? What the hell is that?”

  “Debt Day.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s a moron, what can I say?”

  “I wish I could do something to help you, Bea. Really.”

  She smiled at him. He obviously meant what he was saying. “Thank you, but I’ll think of something. The thought of losing this house because of him is not something I’m going to let happen that easily.”

  ****

  “I’ll see you two tomorrow,” Bea said to Shani and Paul as she left their flat. She pushed her hands into her bag to find her car keys, catching her nail on an old paperclip at the bottom. “Damn.” She sucked her finger, groaning when she heard Mel shouting from along the precinct towards her.

  “Hey, wait for me.” Bea could hear the click clack of her sister’s heels as she ran along the pavement towards her. “I know you can hear me.”

  Knowing when she had no choice, Bea turned slowly, forcing a smile onto her face. “Melanie, I’m in a rush to get home, can’t this wait?”

  “No. I gather you’ve been seeing Tom, what-his-name from years ago? Why didn’t you tell me?” She pushed her huge Dior sunglasses up onto her head holding back her shiny bob.

  “It didn’t occur to me that you’d be interested.” Bea wondered how long it would take Mel to turn the conversation into one about her wedding. She listened as patiently as she could manage.

  “But he’s gorgeous. I always liked him.” She seemed lost in a memory for a couple of seconds. “He reminded me of one of those immaculately suited sixties film stars, without the cigarette, though.”

  Bea shook her head and laughed. She doubted Mel remembered Tom at all. “You hardly met him, so I don’t know what you ever found to like about him. Apart from maybe the way he dressed.”

  “Rubbish.” Mel frowned, or tried to. Bea stared at her sister’s forehead; there wasn’t a line on it. “Have you had botox?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Mel waved the notion away with her perfectly manicured hand. “I’m twenty-five, why would I need anything like that?”

  Bea smiled. “Mel, I was born with more lines on my forehead than you have now. There isn’t one.”

  Mel attempted to raise her eyebrows, or so Bea suspected. She tried to hide her amusement. “Now, I was thinking, if you’re seeing Tom, then he’d make a perfect best man for Grant.”

&nb
sp; What? “Grant doesn’t even know him.”

  “Who cares.” Mel tapped Bea’s arm and lowered her voice. “He’d look perfect for the wedding photos.”

  “Never mind his wardrobe,” Shani said coming out to join them and shooting Mel an irritated glance. “Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing your comments.”

  “That’s because you must have been listening at the door.”

  Shani smiled. “Really, Mel, you should run a shop or a salon. Your interest in grooming and fashion is wasted on a legal assistant.”

  “Maybe,” Mel said. “but I earn far more as a legal assistant, which is why I can afford to buy the clothes I like and pay someone else to do my manicures.”

  “Mel is right, though,” Paul sighed, carrying out a tuna melt and taking a bite from it. “I always found it hard to imagine Tom as a scruffy uni student; he was always so smart whenever I saw him.”

  “He wasn’t ever scruffy, that’s why it’s hard to imagine. He was the only immaculate student I remember mixing with, which is probably why I fancied him so much. He always smelt so clean.” Bea laughed at the memory. She couldn’t help picturing Luke, not at all smart, scruffy in fact, but always smelling so heavenly.

  “I think we can all understand why Bea would find Tom attractive. Can’t we, Shani?” Paul said, nudging Bea. “Stay with us, love.” Bea could see he was trying to make a point, but wasn’t sure why he was determined for Shani to grasp it. “Let her take some risks in her life. You do,” he added.

  Shani narrowed her eyes, but ignored him. “When are you going to ask him all about his situation with his wife, ex, Bea?”

  Bea wasn’t sure when the conversation had moved on from Mel’s wedding to her dating plans. She recalled Shani admitting to her about a crush she’d had on Tom years before when they’d been dating, and Bea wondered if she still could have any feelings for him. Maybe that was what concerned Paul right now? “I don’t know what all the fuss is about,” Bea said ignoring her suspicions. “He told me they’ve signed the separation papers. And after Simon it feels, um…”

  “Safe?” Shani volunteered.

  “Yes, I suppose.” Bea nodded, not too sure she liked to admit this point. “He’s easy to be around. I know him and, to be honest, I don’t feel like I’m going to fall for him in any way.”

  “At least he’s not the sort to mess you around,” Mel said, checking her mobile for messages and quickly texting someone. “He seems very loyal and must have married that Vanessa soon after leaving uni.”

  “Which is probably why he took years to return to Jersey. He must have visited his family over here at some point, but I’ve never bumped into him in all that time. He does seem loyal though,” Bea said. “And even though she was the one to have the affair, he doesn’t sound bitter in any way.”

  “Mmm.” Shani shrugged. “Then he’s a bigger man then most would be. I’m not so sure I’d be happy to forgive something like that. You weren’t either, Bea.”

  “Bea is going to do whatever she decides, so let’s not psychoanalyse why she is seeing Tom,” said Paul before taking another bite of his lunch and staring at Mel. “Have you had something done to your forehead?”

  Mel glared at him. “No.”

  “Anyway,” Shani interrupted, “if Tom’s getting a divorce, then she’s nearly an ex-wife. Take note, the emphasis is on the word ‘nearly’. Do you want to be loaded down with more baggage, Bea?” Shani continued; obviously not ready to give up just yet. “You’re still sorting things out with Simon. I know you’re old friends and all that, but there are loads more blokes out there to choose from. Why pick someone who’s going through a divorce? Move on from him before you get too emotionally involved. I mean, why go for him when you can take your pick?”

  “Yeah, right,” laughed Mel. “There’s such a wide choice of available, sane, heterosexual men out there just waiting.”

  “Don’t be so smug.” Shani glowered at her. “And it’s obvious you’ve had Botox Mel, so stop trying to deny it.”

  “What the hell is your problem, Shani?” Mel asked, dropping her phone back into her bag and pulling the strap up onto her shoulder. “Bea’s more than capable of watching out for herself.”

  “I am and I’m enjoying being single for a change. Maybe it’s a relief being with someone who says something and means it, rather than Simon who always said the right thing and was getting up to all sorts behind my back.” Bea was growing tired of their bickering. “If you must know, I’m seeing Tom this Friday.” She patted Shani’s hand. “This isn’t a great romance. We really are just friends. Relax, what can possibly go wrong?”

  SIX

  September - Digging for the Truth

  Bea glanced out of the hall window to see if the taxi had arrived yet and spotted a note on the hallstand that Luke must have left earlier. “Please leave back door open tomorrow morning. Will be bringing round paint samples for you to look at. L” She smiled. His untidy handwriting on the torn piece of paper was similar to others he’d left her over the previous few weeks. Like the writer, she mused, straight to the point and abrupt. Could this man really be involved with something underhand and illegal?

  She heard the taxi’s tyres crunching on the gravel outside the front door and, pushing further thoughts of Luke to the back of her mind, Bea gave Flea a kiss on his tatty head and grabbed her jacket and bag.

  Bea paid the cab driver and walked into Sammy’s Bar. She glanced around the noisy room, but couldn’t see Tom, so bought herself a vodka and tonic and took a seat at a small table with a clear view of the entrance. Tapping the table with her newly painted fingernails, Bea surreptitiously glanced down at her watch for the fifth time. She was contemplating whether to order another drink, or leave, when the door opened and in strode Tom.

  His eyes twinkled as he smiled at her. “Hi, gorgeous,” he said, striding across the room dressed in his trademark bespoke suit, his sandy hair combed to one side. “You look perfect, as usual.” Unable to help grinning back at him, Bea couldn’t help notice the admiring stares he was getting from other women in the bar.

  He leant down and kissed her on both cheeks. “Good to see you tonight,” he said settling down in the seat opposite her. “I’ll get us some drinks.”

  “Red wine for me, please.” She watched him go to the bar and when he turned to smile at her, she pointed to the Ladies. Tom nodded.

  She washed her hands and touched up her lip-gloss. Hmm, she didn’t look too bad, considering she’d been painting for a couple of hours since getting home from work. Bea rubbed her thumb across her newly applied nail varnish. She missed having decent nails.

  “I could do with the weather dropping a few degrees,” Tom said, undoing the button on his linen jacket. “September, and it still feels like mid-summer.”

  Bea took a sip of her drink as he looked her up and down. She wanted to ask him about Luke’s involvement with the money laundering case, but could see he was about to say something.

  Tom leant across to her, and taking her lightly by the wrist, pulled Bea towards him. She could feel his breath against her ear, and wondered if he was going to kiss her. “The label from your knickers is hanging out of the top of your trousers,” he whispered, trying unsuccessfully to stifle his laughter.

  “Oh,” muttered Bea, quickly tucking the offending label back inside her pants, while surreptitiously glancing around the bar to see if anyone else could have possibly noticed her faux pas.

  “Hey, don't look so embarrassed,” he said, “it looked sexy. I didn’t want to tell you, but thought you'd like to know.” He winked at her.

  “So,” she said, mustering as much dignity as possible. “How’re things going with your separation?”

  He looked at his drink, a grimace passing across his previously happy face. “Well, if you’re sure you want to know?” She nodded. He sat back in to the chair and turned his wine glass by the stem for a few seconds. “As I told you I found out she was seeing someone else, she actually had b
een for about eighteen months.”

  “That’s awful. How did you find out?” Bea winced at the unfeeling way her question had come out. “I meant who told you?”

  “I wasn’t told exactly. She was meeting up with a guy who I discovered was one of the beneficiaries of one of the bigger trusts I looked after. I’ve had bi-annual meetings with him over the past five years, and we've always got along well. So, last year, instead of meeting up at the office, he suggested we go out to lunch and discuss everything away from the office.”

  Bea was surprised Tom appeared so happy to tell her everything, and wondered if maybe it was because she'd asked him after he'd had a drink. She waited for him to continue.

  “Well, you know how it is,” he said. “Do business, have lunch, knock back a couple of glasses of wine. Him that is, not me,” he explained, raising an eyebrow. “He started to relax and began telling me about this woman he was seeing.”

  “How horrible,” Bea murmured, wishing she had ignored Shani, and not been quite so nosy after all.

  “Not at first,” he continued quietly. “He didn’t know he was describing my wife. We chatted like old friends and he told me how great she was and although she had a husband the marriage was all but over. How it was only a bit of harmless fun for both of them.” He shrugged at the memory. “I agreed with him on that point, too. It never occurred to me for one second the poor fool we were discussing was me.”

  Bea winced, bloody Shani, now she felt truly intrusive. “When did you realise?”

  “It was at the following lunch, six months later. I asked him how everything was going and he happily told me, although this time mentioning her first name, and describing her titian hair. At first I felt a little unsettled, but shrugged off the notion.” He made a loser sign with his thumb and forefinger. “I thought I was being paranoid. Up until that point, it had never occurred to me Vanessa could ever be unfaithful. Then, when he said how he looked out for her drop-head silver Audi, the penny dropped. I mean, let’s face it, Jersey is a small enough place and there aren’t that many of the same car, especially ones driven by redheads.”