He straightened himself up. There had to be some way to assist Flick and Brenda. A way that didn’t directly involve him or his wallet.
He looked at the phone still in his hand, suddenly knowing exactly what he needed to do. It pained him, after all, he’d be selling his soul to the devil. But steeling himself ready to dial the number, what other choice did he have?
20
Flick wandered from room to room. She absorbed the chateau’s calming atmosphere as she took everything in. The beautiful claw foot baths, the never-ending coving that flowed from one space to another, the stonework and the beautifully worn wood flooring, what wasn’t there to like? The views from every window were spectacular.
Her admiration continued as she made her way downstairs, fully understanding why the building was a developer’s dream. It was obvious that turning it intounitsrather than selling it on as alotwould make them a shed load of money.But what about the chateau’s soul?Surely money wasn’t everything.
She scoffed. Of course it was. Wasn’t money the very reason she was selling on? Thinking about it, if cash weren’t an issue, she knew she’d be planning an art school by now. After all, ever since Dee had suggested it, the idea had continued to grow in its appeal. Flick stopped for a moment and glancing around again, it seemed unfair to think her dream was so near yet so far. “Why did you do this to me, Dad?” she said, looking up to the heavens before continuing on her way.
Her heart knew exactly why her father had done it. It wasn’t just that she’d been his little princess, he’d wanted her to experience his love affair with France for herself. He’d wanted her to broaden her horizons, having constantly said as much. Most of all though, he’d wanted her to paint and what better place to be inspired?
Her head, however, insisted she needed to be realistic and accept the offer. Falling for some romantic notion was all well and good, but she had to be sensible about this. The last thing her dad would want is for her to be a martyr to his cause, especially if that meant being penniless.
Flick paused in her thinking. When it came to words likerealisticandsensible, was that really her talking? Or was it Matthew?
She headed to the kitchen, stopping short in the doorway when she spotted her mum sat in front of the fire, staring into the flames. She was so engrossed in her thoughts, she obviously hadn’t heard her daughter come in and Flick thought it a shame to disturb her. Maintaining the quiet, she picked up one of the table’s chairs, carried it over and sat down at her mum’s side.
“There you are,” Brenda said. “I was beginning to wonder where you’d got to.”
“You okay?” Flick asked.
Her mother smiled as she patted Flick’s knee. “More to the point, are you okay?”
Flick sighed. “Not really.” She fell silent, her mind still whirring over what to do for the best. The offer for the chateau had been on the table for a few days and she knew the developer would be wanting his answer soon.
“It’s not just a building, is it?”
Flick knew it was a rhetorical question. She also knew exactly what her mother meant. Everywhere she looked she didn’t just see bricks and mortar, she saw her father. Although with his casket of ashesagainstaring back from the mantelpiece, she supposed it was hardly surprising.
She suddenly felt an urge to get out into the fresh air. “Fancy a walk?” she asked, rising to her feet.
“Around the grounds? Why not?”
Flick went to fetch their hats and coats. “We’d better wrap up warm,” she said, handing over her mother’s. “Looks like the clouds are coming in.” Hoping the fresher weather would help clear her head, she zipped up tight and led the way down the hall and out through the front door.
“Who’s that?” Brenda pointed down the driveway. “Looks like a sports car.”
Flick turned, her gaze following that of her mother’s. As it drew nearer, she squinted, failing to recognise either the vehicle or its driver. “I haven’t a clue.”
“It could be the developer. Maybe he wants a second viewing?”
“I wouldn’t have thought so. Not when he’s already made an offer.” Flick continued to watch his approach, her eyes narrowing as her suspicion grew. “Unless he’s come to pressurise us into accepting.” She felt her hackles rise. It wouldn’t be the first time a property developer had resorted to bully boy tactics.
She observed the car coming to a standstill before the driver disembarked. “What’s he doing now?”
“Beats me.”
Professional-looking camera in hand, he took photos of his surroundings.
“The cheek of it,” Flick said. “Like Dee hasn’t supplied him with enough pictures already.”
Finally, he got back into his vehicle and manoeuvred it forward again until he reached the chateau entrance. “Bonjour,” he said. Getting out of the car once more, he held out his hand to greet them, maintaining eye contact and a suave smile.
Listening to his accent, Flick knew an Englishman when she heard one, although admittedly the UK number plate on his vehicle helped. She took in his expensive suit, recognising the quality thanks to Matthew’s equally expensive tastes and oozing confidence and style, the man looked to be around her mother’s age. Like Dee had said, the man before her was clearly successful and, no doubt, used to getting his own way. Flick remained unimpressed however. Standing there waiting for his spiel, it would take more than a flash car, an outstretched palm, and a bit of French to get around her. She leaned into her mother. “Leave this to me.”
Tempted to give the property developer a piece of her mind, she told herself to play it cool. “Can I help you?” she asked, keeping her hands firmly by her side.
