by Susan Lewis
Alicia shook her head as she ate. ‘I guess he wouldn’t tell me if he did, but according to him he only had one beer and a brief chat with Annabelle before he left. Apparently she was high as a kite.’
‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’
‘According to Simon that particular set is well known for the kind of things they get up to, so I definitely don’t want Annabelle anywhere near Darcie. I think Robert will understand, because he’s already suggested that it might not be a good idea.’
‘Are you going to tell him about the party?’
Alicia sighed. ‘I don’t know. I feel I should, but Nat doesn’t want me to. He says everyone will know it’s come from him, and that’s not going to make a great start for him, even though he’s not particularly interested in becoming part of that set.’
‘Mm, a difficult one,’ Rachel murmured, and smiled up at the waitress who came to deliver their plates of fresh gambas.
They were in the garden of the Traveller’s under a large blue parasol that sheltered their picnic table completely from the sweltering sun, and overlooked the quiet high street the other side of the wall.
‘Anyway, I’m glad you dropped in,’ Alicia said, shaking out her napkin. ‘I was in need of a break – and actually, I have some news.’
‘Oh?’ Rachel responded, all ears.
Alicia grimaced, as her heart contracted. ‘I had a call from my solicitor in London this morning. The house sale is now complete. So,’ she went on, picking up her wine, ‘shall we drink to my new life?’
Looking as concerned as she felt as she reached for her Coke, Rachel said, ‘How well are you really taking it?’
Alicia thought of all their lovely furniture, the paintings and rugs she and Craig had chosen together, the tables, sofas, beds, the beautiful bathrooms and state-of-the-art kitchen, and felt as though something deep inside her was being taken apart. ‘Badly,’ she admitted, ‘but thankful it’s happening at a distance. It would feel a lot harder if I was still there.’
‘Of course. You did the right thing leaving before it all went through. This way the real break’s already happened. How did Nat take it?’
‘I haven’t told him yet. He knows the completion’s imminent, but I don’t want to make a big thing of it. If he asks I’ll tell him, otherwise I’ll just let him assume it’s done.’
‘Where is he today?’
‘Gone to the cricket again. I can’t make him spend his whole holiday cooped up in the shop, so I’m doing the ceiling myself, as you can see by my hair.’
Rachel smiled at the random white blobs that speckled Alicia’s fringe and ponytail. ‘Staying with the shop and your new life,’ she said, breaking open a prawn, ‘Dave’s been doing some ringing around for you regarding permits, et cetera. He’s printed out what he’s found so far …’ Wiping her hands on a paper napkin, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small buff envelope. ‘Basically, if you’re going to do it legally, and you won’t want to do it any other way, then I’m afraid there’s no chance of opening for at least six weeks, and even then you might still have to wait before you can actually work in the studio.’
Alicia’s appetite died as despair folded around it. ‘Why can’t anything ever be easy?’ she murmured in frustration.
‘From what I can tell,’ Rachel went on, ‘you have to start with a change-of-use application to register the place as an arts and crafts shop. The fee is £335, which you send together with details of how many square metres will be used for retail, and how many for workshop. You need to list the kind of equipment you’ll be using to make your sculptures, which is where the big delay could kick in, because, as we know, you do a lot of welding, and to get that cleared you have to contact the environmental protection people and building control. Possibly the fire brigade too. It’s all there, most of it as time-wasting and farcical as you might expect when dealing with the local authorities.’
Alicia’s face was paling with strain.
‘However, the good news is,’ Rachel continued in an upbeat tone, ‘Dave has a contact at the planning office who’s going to try to fast-track things for you, and we’ll come round later with the kids to help you measure the place up.’
As Alicia looked at her, she was barely registering what Rachel was saying. ‘How could I have been so stupid?’ she said. ‘Why didn’t I realise I’d have all these official channels to go through? I’m like some idiot airhead who thinks everything’s possible just because it feels like a good idea.’
‘You’re new to this, so how could you know?’ Rachel said defensively. ‘And besides, no one can be expected to think straight when they’re going through as much as you are.’
Alicia still looked annoyed with herself.
‘It’s going to work out, I promise,’ Rachel told her firmly. ‘It’ll just take a little longer than you’d hoped.’
‘But I don’t have time on my side. I have to start earning soon or God knows what we’ll do.’
‘OK, Dave and I have talked about this…I know you’re probably going to say no, but hear me out…’
‘I’m not taking a loan. It’s the quickest way to lose friends, and losing you isn’t an option.’
‘I’m not offering a loan. I’m offering to buy into your business. I can be a sleeping partner, or a shareholder if you like, and take a percentage cut of the profits when they come. Meanwhile, you’ll have a little capital to tide you over.’
Alicia was shaking her head. ‘It’s a wonderful offer, but I know what a terrible mess the property market’s in, so with Dave’s income being reduced…’
‘He has six rental properties on the outskirts of Frome,’ Rachel reminded her. ‘If anything, they’re in greater demand than ever, so we’re a long way from having to exist on my income alone.’
‘I’m glad to hear that, but all the same, I can’t take your money.’
‘What else are you going to do? OK, there are banks, but there’s no way of knowing how much joy you’d get from them these days, plus you have to think about the interest they’ll charge, and how long it might take for the application to go through. You just said yourself, time isn’t on your side.’
‘I’ll think of something,’ Alicia said. ‘I’ll get a job of some sort. Do you need a receptionist? Maybe Maggie wants help here, in the pub.’
‘You should to be building up inventory for the shop,’ Rachel reminded her. ‘At the moment you’ve only got six sculptures and with the best will in the world, you know they don’t exactly fly off the shelves.’
‘I’ll bring the prices down.’
‘Even if you do that, you still need more stock, and for that you have to be creating and finding other artists to promote.’ She looked up as someone behind Alicia caught her attention.
‘Who is it?’ Alicia asked, glancing over her shoulder.
‘I’m not sure,’ Rachel said, smiling and waving politely at a well-groomed man who’d just come into the garden. ‘I know I’ve seen him … Oh, that’s right, he brought his dog in with an injured paw last week. He probably doesn’t know who the heck I am out of context. Anyway,’ she went on, picking up where they’d left off, ‘there is one other alternative.’
Alicia swallowed. ‘If you’re thinking of Robert, he’s already offered and I turned him down too.’
‘But why?’
‘Because I don’t even want to think about how that whore would react if she found out he’d loaned me money, especially for a shop that she’s trying to stop me from opening. Not that I’d mind one bit sending her off into orbit, you understand, but I certainly don’t want my brother’s life turned into a living hell.’
Taking her point, Rachel picked up her drink and took a sip. ‘Then it’s me or the poorhouse,’ she declared.
Alicia still wasn’t going for it. ‘I told you just now, I’ll think of something,’ she said. ‘Meanwhile, I still have a bit left in the bank, and a five grand overdraft facility which they haven’t had any reason to cancel yet,
thank God. It should feed us for a while, and buy what Nat and Darcie need for school. It might even stretch to some supplies so I can start making jewellery, because I won’t be able to do any welding in the old playroom.’ She sighed heavily, and shook her head as she stared down at her drink. ‘You know, I was actually starting to think I might make my own deadline to open at the beginning of August.’ Her laugh was bitter. ‘I know Sabrina doesn’t make the rules, but I still can’t help blaming her for this.’
‘It’s true, round one does seem to have gone to her,’ Rachel conceded, ‘but this is only the beginning, and I know you, Alicia Carlyle. It’ll take a lot more than a bit of paperwork and a scheming bitch with more venom than brains to fell you.’
Alicia’s eyes came up. ‘It’s not going to be pleasant, though,’ she said.
‘No, because that’s not an adjective one ever uses where your sister-in-law’s concerned.’
Alicia’s smile was weak. ‘Actually, I spotted her coming out of the village shop yesterday morning. The way she stalked back to Holly Way was like a one-woman victory parade. It was so obvious she was hoping I was watching that it might have been comical, if it weren’t so pathetic.’
‘You’re going to come face to face with her sooner or later,’ Rachel said. ‘Have you thought about how you’re going to handle it when you do?’
‘I guess it depends on where and how it happens. I have to admit though, the longer it’s dragging on the more anxious it’s making me. I just hope it doesn’t turn into some all-out slanging match, or worse, because if it does …’ She took a breath and shook her head slowly. ‘I just hope to God it doesn’t,’ she said, and left it at that.
After accompanying Rachel to her car, which she’d left outside the church, Alicia walked back along the high street, her spirits weighted by the small brown envelope she was carrying. No matter how fast a track Dave’s contact could find for her application, common sense was telling her that she had to abandon all thoughts of opening in August, because it simply wasn’t going to happen. Instead, she’d have to spend the time driving back and forth to local government offices taking them every last tedious piece of information they’d forgotten to ask for the last time she was there, adapting her application in ways to suit someone who probably knew nothing about her line of work, or waiting hour upon hour outside some planning officer’s inner sanctum while he or she enjoyed the little power they had over lesser mortals.
With all these gloomy thoughts going round in her head, their edges sharpened by what she’d like to do to Sabrina, it took her a moment to register the fact that a man was outside the shop, peering in through the window. Annoyance tightened the band around her head. Surely some official bod from the district council wasn’t dropping by uninvited already? It would be just like Sabrina, with all her contacts, to put them up to it, and being in no mood to deal with the stranger politely, she was sorely tempted to take an about turn towards home. However, on closer inspection, the expensive-looking white polo shirt and khaki shorts, combined with the shock of silvery hair that lent him a decidedly distinguished air, sat somewhat at odds with her image of a local council snoop.
Shielding her eyes from the sun as she approached him, she said, ‘Can I help you?’
As he turned round she noticed the striking contrast of his black eyebrows against his much lighter-coloured hair. His face was tanned, making his teeth appear whiter as he smiled in a way that transformed an otherwise serious face.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘I’m looking for Alicia Carlyle. I was told I might find her here, but the place seems to be all locked up.’
Suddenly realising he was the man Rachel had recognised at the pub, and feeling, oddly, as though she too had seen him somewhere before, she said, ‘I’m Alicia Carlyle. Please don’t tell me we had an appointment and I’ve forgotten.’
His smile deepened the creases around his navy blue eyes, and she wondered if he wasn’t much closer to forty than the fifty she’d first assumed. ‘Cameron Mitchell,’ he said, holding out a hand to shake.
She swallowed, and tried not to do a double take as she put her hand in his. She was having no trouble recognising him now, because anyone in her world knew exactly who he was. As a highly respected art dealer and critic he’d launched several stellar talents. He’d also stopped others dead in their tracks, which was why he was viewed with some trepidation by fringe hopefuls like her, who still dreamt of discovery. So what on earth was he doing here? Which bottle had she rubbed for this kind of genie to pop out on the very day her dreams had been sold by an estate agent in London, and throttled by red tape in Somerset?
‘It seems we have a mutual friend in Antonia Bassingham,’ he explained. ‘She asked me to say hi if I managed to catch up with you.’
Alicia’s jaw almost dropped. She’d lost count of the times she’d all but begged Antonia for an introduction to this man, but Antonia, one of London’s glittering hostesses and a very successful social networker, had never come through. Now, suddenly, here he was on her doorstep in, of all places, Holly Wood. ‘Hi,’ she said, as though Antonia were there, and they both smiled.
‘It’s good to meet you.’
‘Likewise.’ She gestured awkwardly towards the shop. ‘Did Antonia tell you … ? As you can see, we’re not open…’
‘Don’t worry,’ he said, ‘she warned me you probably wouldn’t be up and running yet, but I’m not actually here in a professional capacity. That’s not to say I wouldn’t be interested in taking a look at your work,’ he added politely, ‘it’s just that I’m thinking about buying somewhere in the area, and Antonia informs me that you’re from this neck of the woods so you might be able to give me some pointers.’
Thrown by the unexpectedness of it, but instantly grateful for the opportunity to help someone who could, should he choose, do so much for her, she said, ‘As it happens I’ve just discovered that I’m going to have more time on my hands than I’d expected in the next few weeks, so I’d be happy to help. Do you have anywhere particular in mind? Where are you staying?’
‘Some friends have kindly lent me their house for the summer. It’s in Wyke Champflower, do you know it?’
‘Yes, of course. It’s very pretty around there.’
He nodded. ‘What there is of it. A random bunch of houses and a cheese-making dairy farm, as far as I can tell, but that’s what I’m after, some English-style country living.’
She laughed. ‘Are you American?’ She couldn’t remember registering an accent whenever she’d heard him on radio or TV, but she was picking up on one now.
‘Half, thanks to my mother,’ he replied. ‘My father’s a Scot and I was born in France, but only because I couldn’t wait to get into the world. In other words, I brought an idyllic holiday to an abrupt end by showing up five weeks ahead of time.’
With no little irony she said, ‘So now you make a habit of impromptu appearances?’
His eyes lit with humour. ‘Seems like it,’ he confessed. ‘I’m sorry, I guess I should have called first, but it’s such a lovely day that I decided to venture out for a spot of exploring, and when I found myself round this way I remembered Antonia telling me about you. She said you’ve only recently moved back here, is that right?’
Alicia nodded and felt the warmth fade from her smile. ‘My husband died a few months ago,’ she told him, ‘and we couldn’t carry on …’ She stopped. He didn’t need her life history. ‘Would you like to come in?’ she suggested, taking out her keys. ‘I can offer you some tea, or there might still be some fresh lemonade in the fridge if you’d prefer something cold. One of the locals makes it and sells it in the village shop. It’s very good.’
‘Then I’ll give it a try,’ he replied, following her inside.
‘As you can see, it’s not quite finished yet,’ she apologised as he looked around, and she almost winced as she thought of the glossy, high-end gallery he owned in London. She’d actually been to a preview there a couple of years ago, but she wouldn’t m
ention it now because she couldn’t for the life of her remember the name of the artist he’d been promoting.
‘When are you planning to open?’ he asked, as she walked through to the studio which was still cluttered with boxes, brooms, cleaning paraphernalia and her unceremoniously dumped equipment.
‘If you’d asked me that yesterday,’ she said over her shoulder, ‘I’d have given you a very different answer. As it is, any time this decade would be good.’
He came to stand in the arch. ‘What’s the hold-up?’
‘I think local authority regulations should probably cover it,’ she answered, rinsing out a couple of glasses.
He grimaced.
‘This used to be my mother’s charity shop,’ she explained, ‘now I’m turning it into something else, and like a fool I didn’t think about environmental protection, building regulations, health and safety, trading standards, or the whole nine thousand yards of red tape that has to be got around. Anyway, you didn’t come here to listen to me whingeing on about bureaucracy, which is a pity because I really feel like letting rip right now. However, I’ll spare you, if you promise to come to the opening when it does finally happen. Only if you’re in the area, obviously,’ she added hastily, embarrassed by her temerity. ‘I wouldn’t expect you to come all the way from London…’
‘It’s not that far, and I don’t see why not,’ he said. ‘If I’ve found a place by then it might be a good way of getting to know some neighbours.’
‘Do you really not know anyone?’ she asked, passing him a glass of semi-flat lemonade.
He smiled and gave her a salute before taking a sip. ‘Mm, very good,’ he agreed.
Her eyes twinkled in a way that made him laugh.
‘OK, time to be truthful,’ he said. ‘I’ve been coming to these parts for the last five or six years, usually staying with friends who have a place the other side of Bruton. The Carmichaels, do you know them?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Should I?’
‘Only because Antonia’s related in some way to Felicity Carmichael, so as you and Antonia are friends… Anyway, I’m acquainted with probably a handful of people through them, but most of them are away for the summer and besides, they’re a pretty horsey sort of set which isn’t really my thing. Apologies if you’re a keen rider.’