A Springtime Affair: Chapter 7
‘Mrs Claire? It’s Leo Simmons, the house valuer.’
Gilly wouldn’t have admitted to anyone how excited she was to hear Leo’s voice at the other end of her landline, a couple of days after he had valued the house – and not because she was desperate to know the value.
‘Gilly, please. Hello, Leo.’
He laughed softly. ‘Hello, Gilly. I’ve rung to tell you how much your house is worth.’
‘Go on then. I’m keen to know.’
‘Well, I hope you’re sitting down.’
‘Goodness,’ she said when he had told her. She’d thought she had a rough idea of how much her house was worth; this was quite a lot more.
‘Don’t make any hasty decisions,’ said Leo, ‘but if you do decide to sell, I’d be delighted to advise you. While I’m not really an estate agent – more a property consultant – there are a lot of charlatan estate agents out there and I could help you stay out of their clutches.’
‘I’ll definitely consult you if I decide to sell.’ She paused. ‘So, how much do I owe you for the valuation? And where and how do I pay?’ She wasn’t sure if you did pay for valuations but thought she’d better make sure.
‘Nothing. I did it as a favour.’
‘You can’t! You don’t even know me – I mean – before. I insist on paying.’ Gilly hated getting things for nothing.
‘I can, because I have a favour to ask you in return.’
‘Oh, well, that is a bit different. What can I do for you?’
He didn’t speak immediately. ‘It’s a bit awkward and you might think it terribly forward besides being very short notice …’
‘What is it?’ Gilly was on tenterhooks.
‘I was forced to buy two tickets for Music at Gainsborough tomorrow night. Do you have a clue what I’m talking about?’
Gilly laughed, feeling relaxed and very happy. ‘Of course! I’ve been a couple of times. It’s our local Glyndebourne, only they have it in a barn. It’s a shame it’s so early in the year but apparently they have it then because the singers are cheaper to hire or something. The gardens at Gainsborough House would be such a perfect setting for opera. Then it really would be like Glyndebourne.’
‘But it’s only extracts, isn’t it? Being new to the area I don’t know what to expect. Will you come with me? You’re probably going already – it’s such short notice,’ he repeated.
‘I’d be delighted to come with you, but as a pleasure, not a favour.’
‘Tell you what, you bring the picnic and we’ll call it quits. But let me do the wine. It’s a hobby of mine.’
‘Then I’ll do the food. It’s a hobby of mine.’
A second later she wished she hadn’t said that. Food definitely was a hobby of hers and ideas for a sumptuous picnic were already going round in her head but she didn’t want him to expect too much.
‘That’s wonderful! I’ll ring you tomorrow when I’ve worked out the details. I’ll arrange a cab so I can enjoy the wine.’ He sounded very pleased. ‘This is so kind of you,’ he said.
‘It’s so kind of you to invite me!’
‘To be honest, I don’t know any other attractive women in the area I could ask, so I’m thrilled you said yes.’
Gilly laughed. ‘I think I’d better end the call now,’ she said. ‘Ring me when you know the details.’
She went round the house in a haze of happiness, wishing she had someone she could tell about this rather surprising conversation. She didn’t want to tell Helena because she didn’t want to have to explain that she’d had the house valued. She would go mad with rage at her brother and sister-in-law. No, she just wanted to enjoy the anticipation. Going to a big local event with an attractive man was a real ego boost. She was going to savour every second of the event, and the run-up to it.
But Gilly’s joy was marred by the burden of knowing how much her house was worth. While it was lovely in some ways, was it fair of her to sit on a property valuable enough to give both her children sizeable amounts of cash and leave enough for her to buy a little cottage somewhere? Probably not.
She was researching high-end picnic options when her son rang her. ‘Martin? Is everything all right?’
‘Mum! Does there always have to be something the matter? I just rang for a chat. That’s OK, isn’t it?’
‘It’s very OK, darling, it’s just very unheard of. You’re always so busy!’
‘Yes, well, we have plans to change that. We’ve decided we need to reassess our lives. We just don’t get enough time together as a family.’
‘Oh, darling, that’s wonderful! Little Issi – I mean Ismene – won’t be little for long; they grow up so fast. You don’t want to have missed it. Either of you.’
‘I’m so glad you agree, Mum. So you’re thinking about our suggestion? You need to cut down on the hours you work too.’
‘Running my own B & B is hardly the same as a high-powered, full-time job!’
‘It is very hard work. You’re always saying so.’
‘Yes, it is hard work but I do love it.’
‘You could love it just as much if you did it a bit less.’
Gilly was aware that she was breathing too quickly. She knew what Martin meant and it was making her anxious. ‘Sorry, I’m not with you. I could cut down on the number of rooms I let but then I wouldn’t have a profitable business. Then it would just be the work without the money.’
‘What we’re suggesting is that if you sold Fairacres, and we bought the house we showed you online, you could run a couple of the extra rooms as B & B rooms and the extra income would mean me and Cress could work less intensively.’
Remembering what the hypnotherapist had told her after her divorce, Gilly did some measured breathing, making sure the outward breath lasted longer than the inward. ‘So you’re suggesting that I do the work and you get the money?’
‘Mum! Don’t go all mercenary on me! If you sold your house you wouldn’t need the money.’
‘I think I would, darling, because all the money would go into buying your house.’ This wasn’t quite true. If Leo’s valuation was correct, there’d be quite a bit left but she wasn’t inclined, just at this moment, to share this with her son.
He hesitated. ‘I’m sure not all of it. It must be a very valuable property.’
‘It was your childhood home, Martin,’ Gilly said. ‘It’s not just “real estate”.’
‘I know,’ he said soothingly, ‘but everything has its time, Mum, and we don’t need a childhood home any more. We need homes for now, when we’re grown up. And Helena needs somewhere for her loom.’
‘I’m not saying I won’t think about selling, darling, but I won’t be running a B & B in your house.’ Gilly was very particular about how she treated her guests and presented the rooms and she wasn’t going to risk Cressida telling her how to do it differently. And she would.
‘Fair enough!’ said Martin, not quite getting it. ‘It wouldn’t be a deal-breaker. You could still come to live with us!’ he said generously.
‘Or I could buy a little cottage somewhere, then you wouldn’t need a house with a granny annexe. Which would be much cheaper.’
‘Oh, but we need you on site – for Ismene. You know you’d love that!’
‘I’ve said I’ll think about it,’ said Gilly. ‘And that will have to do for now.’
But she was so enraged by his suggested plan that she had to have a cup of tea and one of the shortbread biscuits she continually made for other people, but never ate herself.
She was certain she was right not to tell Helena she’d had Fairacres valued – she might let slip about Martin’s call and then Helena might ring her brother and rant at him. They’d always got on well as children but since he’d married Cressida and Helena had stopped being the baby sister, relations were sometimes strained. Far better that Gilly should think things through on her own and make her own decision.
She decided to make sausage rolls for the picnic but didn’t go as far as making her own puff pastry. She mixed caramelised onions into the sausage meat though, which was a lovely addition. Then she made smoked salmon Scotch eggs before focusing on some little fruit tarts using her own frozen raspberries. While she baked she didn’t let herself think about selling her house, she just focused on providing the perfect picnic for two. Helena would have said she was providing for twenty-two, but baking kept anxiety away and she was good at it.
Leo collected her the next evening in a limousine. He looked extremely handsome in a dinner jacket and Gilly was very glad she was wearing a rather expensive full-length coat to go over her favourite dress. She felt dressed up but not overdressed, and, most importantly, a pashmina meant she wouldn’t be cold.
‘You look sensational!’ he said when he’d taken the picnic hamper from her and kissed her cheek.
‘You look pretty smart yourself,’ she said, trying not to hyperventilate. She hadn’t felt like this about a man since she’d first met her ex-husband, Sebastian. It was lucky she was no longer in her twenties and was now very sensible, she thought.
‘It’s so kind of you to come.’ He sat down in the back seat next to her.
‘The pleasure is all mine, really,’ said Gilly. ‘I had fun making the picnic.’
‘If I’d done it, it would have been sandwiches from M&S followed by one of those tubs of brownies or fudge bites or whatever they are.’
‘Which I happen to love!’ said Gilly.
‘Next time,’ he said. ‘But I’m looking forward to what you’ve brought with you.’
‘We are going for the cultural experience!’ said Gilly, laughing. She realised she was completely giddy with excitement and what could quite possibly be lust. Whatever it was, it was lovely and she was going to enjoy every second.
‘I can’t believe that apart from everything else, you are a sensational cook,’ said Leo a few hours later, on his second smoked salmon Scotch egg.
He had found a delightful place for them to eat in the garden room of the main house, with views over the lake and the woodlands beyond. ‘I’m not sensational,’ Gilly replied, trying not to giggle, having had two glasses of champagne. ‘I just have a knack with pastry.’
‘I’m not eating pastry,’ said Leo, ‘so you must be sensational.’
Gilly looked at him over her glass, trying to think of something sensible to say. ‘It’s time for the second half of the performance,’ she said eventually.
‘Really? Do we have to go? Couldn’t we just stay here and eat this delicious food and get drunk? After all, neither of us has to drive, and how often can one say that?’
‘Not very often but I’m afraid we do have to see the second half. There are quite a lot of people I know here and if we didn’t reappear there would be talk.’ Privately Gilly was thrilled at possibly being the subject of gossip and speculation. Currently she was known as a good woman and while she didn’t want to be a bad one, it was fun to challenge people’s ideas about who she really was. She felt her reputation was rather dull.
Leo put the picnic hamper in a safe place and they walked back together into the main barn. Gilly was just settling herself in, wondering if she needed her pashmina or not, when she caught someone waving at her.
It was Amy’s mother. Although not as close friends as their daughters were, she’d known Michelle since the girls were at school together. Now Michelle was raising her eyebrows, smiling and looking at Leo. There was no chance Gilly could pretend that she and Leo were just sitting next to each other by chance.
If it had been any of her other friends she’d have been thrilled to be seen with such an attractive man at her side. But Michelle would tell her daughter Amy, and Amy would tell Helena faster than the speed of thought. What would Helena have to say about her mother going to the opera with a man like Leo? The first thing she would want to know is where did Gilly meet him. And if Gilly told her, Helena would want to know the details and if Gilly told her about getting her house valued, Helena would be outraged.
She took a breath. She didn’t have to worry about that until tomorrow. She looked up at Leo and caught him smiling down at her. Her stomach flipped. She was thrilled that her stomach could still do that. She’d sort of assumed that it was an ability one lost with age, like being able to do the splits.
This thought amused her so much she almost laughed out loud. Leo caught her expression and gave her a very wry look.
This was worth any amount of interrogation from Helena tomorrow, she decided.
Gilly felt incredibly like a teenager on the way home. She sat in the back of the car with Leo wishing she lived a lot further away than she did. He picked up her hand and looked at it. ‘You have lovely hands,’ he said.
Gilly used to be proud of her hands but felt that work and the passing years had spoiled them. She managed not to argue with him though and was proud of herself. ‘Thank you.’
Then they were outside her house and the driver was taking her up the drive to her front door.
Leo got out, ran round the car and opened the door for her. He ushered her up to the door. ‘Thank you so much for a lovely evening,’ he said, stealing her line. ‘I do hope we can do something like it again.’
‘I’d like that very much,’ said Gilly, suddenly desperately shy. ‘I’ve had such a nice time. Thank you so much.’
He kissed her lightly on both cheeks. ‘I’ll be in touch. Soon.’