* **
Lying in bed that night, Cherry picked up her book while she was waiting for Daniel to come out of the bathroom. She heard him come in and then he got on the bed and tilted the book away from her face. She looked up to see he had a small box in his hand.
“I wanted to wait until we were alone for this one,” he said.
She looked at it in delight. It was turquoise blue velvet. A box like that could only mean jewelry. Tentatively she opened it up and gasped. Lying on the silk lining was a slim gold bangle set, with a single stone of soft, shimmering blue.
“It’s a moonstone. For your birth month, apparently, although I have to confess that bit was a coincidence. I just liked it. Thought it would suit you.”
She threw her arms around him. “Thank you. I love it!”
“Happy birthday. Again.” He kissed her and then took it out of the box and she held out her slim, tanned wrist. He fastened the clasp and she watched how the stone gleamed mysteriously as she moved her arm. It was the most beautiful piece of jewelry she had ever seen. It was then that Cherry made her decision. Nicolas wasn’t the only one who could get married. She was going to have Daniel Cavendish.
15
Friday, July 4
LAURA CAME HOME TO EXCRUCIATING NOISE. HER NEIGHBORS’ basement extension was in full swing, and as irritating as it was, she had to tolerate it, for only twelve months before she’d been doing the same thing. She was supposed to be working from home that afternoon on some proposals she’d pitch to ITV at her lunch in a couple of weeks.
Soon after she got back from the airport, a writer arrived, one Laura liked and enjoyed working with, and who was favored by ITV after a respectable success with a miniseries for them the previous year. She opened the door to him and they had to shout their hellos above the noise of the excavator. They worked hard on a joint idea they had about a drama set in an exclusive private school, and despite the racket, they made good progress. The only interruption was a brief power cut from the builders, which meant that the Internet was down for an hour or so, hampering research.
By midafternoon, the writer had enough material to go ahead and write a treatment, a summary of the series. It was an investment Laura would have to bear the cost of, and at his rate, not a cheap one, but drama development was notoriously expensive. She felt it was worth it, as she sensed there was a good chance Alison and Sean would go for this project.
After he left, the builders packed up and went home too. It was late afternoon, but Laura knew the weekend would not yet have started for everyone. She toyed with the idea a bit, and then, before she lost her courage, she picked up her bag and left the house.
* * *
Laura walked the short distance to Highsmith and Brown real estate agents and browsed the window outside. Lots of beautifully photographed houses, some costing millions, some casually stating their price was on application. After she’d spent what she thought was a reasonable time looking, she stepped inside. A dapper-looking man, who was with a gentleman of retirement age, looked up. He seemed harassed, perhaps more so when a young girl approached her hesitantly.
“Hi, can I help you?”
Laura wanted to speak to the well-dressed man, not this girl, who was clearly much more junior. She knew from the website he was the manager—she reminded herself of his name: Neil.
“I’m just going to take a look at these,” indicated Laura, and she moved over to a stand of house details. The girl left with a grateful nod, glad to have escaped.
Laura wondered how long she would have to pretend interest in the houses. Perhaps she could write something down, take some notes. She was about to dig in her handbag for some paper and a pen when she heard the retired man finish up. Her heart was hammering as he left, but she made herself catch Neil’s eye.
He smiled at her. “Was there something I can do for you?” He was forthright, professional. She would have to be careful.
“Yes. I’m looking for something with four bedrooms. I’ve always fancied a mews . . .”
He indicated a chair on the opposite side of his desk. “Would you like to take a seat?”
She did.
“Perhaps I can start by taking some details?” said Neil, and Laura realized it would be better if she made up a false name and address. She panicked and could think of nothing exceptIsabella’s, which she gave, mentally asking her forgiveness, just recovering enough to alter her mobile number and e-mail address slightly.
He started to scroll through some houses on his iPad.
“You’re very busy,” began Laura.Lamely,she thought.
“Yes. Time of the year.” He looked up and nodded at a couple who were waiting impatiently; she knew she had to do this sooner rather than later.
“We have this rather lovely place,” he started, showing her some photos on the screen, “in Lexham Gardens. It’s not a mews, but it’s four bedrooms and three bathrooms.”
“Great. Can I take a hard copy?”
He delved into a file at the side of his desk and pulled out a luxurious printout. Then he began to scroll through again.
