by Lynda Renham
Andy looks apprehensively at William Ellis and then to the other builders before yanking up his trousers and saying,
‘Your husband hired us to turn them there outbuildings into offices.’
I sigh heavily.
‘He isn’t my husband,’ I snap.
‘Shall I get started?’ says the blonde eagerly.
‘No …’
‘If you could, the cleaning things are under the sink,’ interrupts Ellis.
‘Just a minute …’ I hold my hand out like a traffic policeman.
‘The thing is,’ says Ellis. ‘It seems your great aunt left the house to me also. Two wills, two solicitors, same day, very confusing.’
It seems like everyone is frozen, motionless as if the pause button has been pressed, and then, in unison, the blonde enters the house and the builders resume their building.
‘I’ll put the kettle on then Mrs Ellis,’ says Andy as he follows the blonde into the house.
Chapter Eleven
‘You’ve got to be kidding; she must have lost the plot. But if she wasn’t of sound mind, as they say, when she made the will then you can argue the case, after all, he isn’t family like you is he?’
I rummage through the suitcase for my facial wipes, pressing the phone against my ear. I really am finding this hard to believe. How could Aunt Vera have left the same house to two people? She had to be crazy right? Trust me to have a crazy aunt. And why is it I have never heard of this William Ellis?
‘Huh,’ I scoff. ‘Apparently he’s phoned just about everyone. He’s as keen to get me out as I am him.’
‘You can’t stay there,’ squeals Muffy. ‘What if he’s a nutter or something? You hardly know the guy.’
‘Which is exactly why I can’t leave. He will no doubt change the locks, and you know what they say about possession being nine-tenths of the law, I daren’t leave. The whole thing is a bloody nightmare. I have to risk him chopping me up and burying me under the floorboards. Anyway I thought I knew Oliver but look what he did to me, not to mention bloody Ben Newman.’
‘Little shits,’ she affirms.
‘Exactly, it would be a bloody man who takes my inheritance. Honestly, I never get left anything and when I do a man comes along to steal it from me.’
Muffy sighs.
‘Is he good looking?’ she asks.
‘Muffy! Don’t let the side down,’ I grumble, pulling my socks off. If it gets any hotter in here I’ll pass out.
‘Just curious,’ she says nonchalantly.
‘Well yes, but I’m not interested in men, and most certainly not in this one,’ I say, hanging my things in the pinewood wardrobe.
She gasps.
‘God Binki, what if he’s a sexual predator?’
I feel a tiny tingle run through me. I’ve been too long without a man if the thought of a sexual predator turns me on. Well, that’s not strictly true is it? If a sexual predator turned me on I’d be flinging myself on Ben Newman right? Who is most certainly a sexual predator and I can categorically state that the thought of Ben Newman and his wart does not turn me on in the least. Call me weird, but there it is.
‘Well, he is quite good looking and he has a nice body, I saw it in the bathroom remember?’
‘Binki!’ she exclaims.
‘I know, only joking, but I can’t leave, not tonight anyway. Honestly, if Aunt Vera wasn’t already dead I’d kill her myself. How could she do this and on the same day too, can you believe it?’
‘Surely whoever she left it to last is the owner, it’s her last will and testament that counts isn’t it?’
Oh yeah Muffy, like we hadn’t thought of that. Seems Aunt Vera made both wills on the same day three years ago. His was at 2 p.m. but my solicitor doesn’t have any record of when my will was made, no appointment book or anything. He probably put the appointment book in his pipe and smoked it for all I can tell. Honestly, what a bloody cock-up.
‘I don’t believe it,’ mumbles Muffy. ‘How did he know her anyway? You don’t think he was her bit of posh do you?’
God, what an awful thought. Then again, William Ellis as a bit of posh doesn’t seem so bad. Obviously only if you’re desperate I mean. I wouldn’t give him a second glance, obviously.
‘Apparently he helped her with investments and stuff,’ I say, placing my teapot on the dressing table.
‘I bet he did,’ she scoffs.
‘No, that’s what he does and a lot he did for her free of charge.’
‘I bet he did,’ she scoffs again. ‘Little shit.’
I exhale.
‘Not all men are little shits, Muffy.’
I suppose she’s right though. So far all the men I’ve met have been little shits, apart from my dad of course, but for all I know he could be a little shit too. I look out of my bedroom window to a view of a field with horses grazing. Oh, it would all have been so lovely if only William bloody Ellis wasn’t here.
‘Want to bet?’
‘He’s been here two weeks already. The place is furnished and everything. I think Aunt Vera was renting it out. He’s renovating the outbuildings and turning them into offices, and he’s got a Lamborghini, and oh Muffy, what am I going to do?’ I say, beginning to cry.
‘It will be okay Binki,’ she says.
‘Don’t tell Oliver will you? I don’t want him to know it all went wrong. He would love that,’ I hiccup, wiping my eyes on the facial wipe.
‘Of course not, but he is sorry Binki. You could come back and start again.’
Bloody hell, is that Muffy speaking. Feminist, down with men and up with the Hovis Muffy?
‘Are you serious?’
‘I hate you being upset.’
There is a rapping at the door and Ellis pops his head round. I tell Muffy I will call her back.
‘I could have been naked,’ I snap.
He cocks his head and says,
‘Then we’d be even. I’m popping out to get some Chinese. Do you want some? We could talk things through over a chow mein and a glass of wine. What do you think?’
I think you can’t get me to change my mind with a chow mein is what I think. God, some men are unbelievable. Mind you, I am starving and if he’s paying, God knows he can afford it with that bloody Lamborghini sitting outside.
‘Well …’
He grins.
‘Great. Chow mein, sweet and sour and maybe a satay, you okay with that?’
That sounds fabulous.
‘I guess it will suffice,’ I say huffily, hesitantly reaching for my purse.
‘It’s on me,’ he says.
‘I couldn’t possibly,’ I protest.
‘Oh yes you could, or else you’d have been in your purse a lot quicker. Don’t think of locking me out. I’m quite capable of climbing through a window and if I have to smash one you can bet it will be yours. See you in a bit.’
What an arrogant bugger. I call Muffy back.
‘Oh well, at least it was chow mein and satay, better that than kwik wank or vee dee,’ she laughs.
‘It’s not funny,’ I snap. ‘He’s obviously trying to get round me with food and wine. Well it won’t work. I’ll phone you later. I’m going to nose around my house while he is gone.’
I hang up and watch him reverse out of the driveway. I look around my bedroom which is very cosy with lovely pine wardrobes and dressers. Just a shame it doesn’t have an en suite. It seems I’ve got to share the bathroom with Mr Arrogance which is just what I don’t need. I wander along the white painted landing and open the bathroom door. His scent hits me and my stomach flutters, and I find myself wondering if he has a girlfriend and where he lived before. I bet Muffy is right and he did take advantage of poor Aunt Vera. Maybe if I can prove that then I’ll get him out of the house.
The bathroom is clean but his things are everywhere. A razor sits on the sink with shaving gel beside it, the top off of course. What is it with men and shaving gel? I sigh and replace the top. I gingerly open the bathroom cabinet and l
ook inside. Maybe I can find something to incriminate him. Dental floss, yes well flossing hasn’t yet become a crime has it? Painkillers, they’re still legal aren’t they? Multi-vitamins, at least he looks after himself. Deodorant, nail clippers and aftershave balm. No illegal drugs then, that’s a relief I suppose. He’s pretty clean living. Not even a bottle of aftershave. I sniff his shower gel, and realise that is the fragrance that lingers about him.
I move a comb to one side and see a small packet of something. Ah, what’s this? I pull the pack towards me and drop it in shock. My God, condoms and not one pack but two. Muffy was right, he is a sexual predator. I quickly replace them with shaking hands. What’s the matter with me? The man is entitled to condoms isn’t he? He must only be about thirty, so he’s obviously having sex with someone. I curiously find myself wondering who she is and what she looks like.
I close the bathroom cabinet and head to the bedrooms. The smaller one at the end has a rowing machine and treadmill in it. God, he’s not one of those health freaks is he? Don’t you just hate those types? I tried running once. Oliver was into this health kick or it may have been a ‘kill Binki week kick’, it certainly felt more like that anyway. I’d downloaded some drum and bass onto my iPod in preparation. Oliver said it was a real motivator but it only managed to motivate me for six minutes before my lungs gave way. I’d felt like a real jogger. I was full of determination and it felt like I was running for a long time but it had only been six minutes and bloody drum and bass was still pounding away. At this point my thighs were trembling and there was a burning in my throat. Oliver was way ahead of me and I tried to signal that I was dying and needed oxygen. He’d beckoned me to hurry and catch up and rather than admit I actually couldn’t take another step I had shamelessly pretended to have twisted my ankle and popped into the local pub. Well, sometimes you have to lie in relationships. I wonder if Oliver has been lying all this time about Miss Brown Nipples. No, I must not think about that.
I reach the other bedroom and hesitate. What am I doing? But it’s my house isn’t it? Of course I can explore. I open the door cautiously. His soft fresh fragrance pervades the room. The bed is made, that’s a surprise, but then again Cara, the cleaner, has just been. There are shirts hanging outside the wardrobe, God forbid he should go that extra mile and hang them inside. A laptop sits on the bedside cabinet and another on a table by the window. A PDA lies on the bed. My goodness, the man is technology addicted. A row of green envelope files sits on the windowsill and several boxes clutter the floor. Well, he’ll have more boxes soon if I have my way. This bedroom is huge. Trust him to take the biggest room, and actually he has two rooms if you count the exercise room, that’s not fair is it? He’s an arrogant pushy bugger, who has far more money than me. That’s it! I fall onto the bed as the epiphany hits me. If he wants the house so much then he can buy me out. Of course, why didn’t I think of that before? I glance at the folders and study the labels. I stare at the one labelled Bank Statements. I could just peek couldn’t I? After all, it is best to know your enemies isn’t it? Don’t they say keep your friends close but your enemies even closer? Yes, I’m doing the sensible thing. I need to know all I can about this guy. I quickly check the drive and see that there is no sign of his Lamborghini. I carefully pull out the folder and scan the sheets for a balance. I gasp. I don’t believe it. The guy is loaded. I close the folder carefully and slot it back into place feeling myself pant with excitement. Yes, oh yes. He can’t possibly refuse to buy me out. I can’t think why he didn’t suggest it in the first place. Oh relief. I find myself actually looking forward to the chow mein. I wish I’d asked for a portion of chips and a curry sauce to go with it.
Chapter Twelve
Muffy said to play it cool.
‘Wait until he’s had a few glasses of wine before you ask him. I spoke to Geoff and he knows about these things, he says don’t leave. The minute you do the guy will change the locks and you’ll have him as a squatter. Geoff said it will cost you thousands to get him out.’
By the time William Ellis walks through the front door I’ve laid the table and changed into a dress which I’ve topped with a cream cardigan. I’d tidied my hair and applied some lipstick and blusher. My aim is to get on his good side but it suddenly occurs to me that he may think I am coming onto him. He looks at me curiously and plonks the food on the table. I blush and feel myself grow hot as I remember the condoms in the bathroom cabinet.
‘You shouldn’t have gone to such trouble,’ he says brusquely.
I grow even hotter. I wish the heating was not so high.
‘It’s only a dress and a bit of make-up,’ I say blushing.
He frowns.
‘I meant the table,’ he says, removing his jacket and casually turning a switch by the door to dim the lighting. God, I really dislike this man and his hurtful comments. He walks past me into the kitchen and helps himself to the wine rack. He’s very much at home in my house isn’t he?
‘Red or white?’ he calls.
Right now I’d drink anything as long as it has alcohol in it.
‘I’m easy,’ I say and bite my lip. Jesus, I can’t believe I said that. I am playing it far from cool. I think I see a smile pass his lips but it’s gone before I can be sure. He returns to the table with a bottle of red which he uncorks expertly.
‘I got some chips and curry sauce,’ he says while pouring a little wine into a glass.
He must have read my mind.
‘But if you’re watching your figure,’ he adds, glancing at me. I feel myself blush and fight the desire to stab myself with a chopstick. Honestly, how can three men in the space of as many days manage to make me feel so bad about myself? Is he trying to insinuate I’m fat? I blush and curse myself. Anyone would think I was having dinner with Daniel Craig the way I’m carrying on. It isn’t like I’m not used to good-looking men. Oliver is very handsome; I wonder what he’s doing now. We always used to get a takeaway on a Saturday night. I loved our evenings in with a Chinese and a good DVD. I hope he isn’t with Amanda Rowland. Maybe Muffy is right, perhaps I should go home. What the hell am I doing in a strange house, and what’s more, eating a Chinese with a strange man. I can’t possibly sleep here tonight. I barely know the guy. He sits opposite me at the table and removes the lids from the cartons. I expect him to offer me something but he just helps himself and fills his plate. Oliver would never be so rude
‘So, I’m thinking you could buy me out,’ I announce. ‘After all, you’re good at spending money.’
Whoops, that was a bit uncalled for. I don’t know what came over me. He dips a chip in the curry sauce and lifts it to his mouth in such a way that I have to fight a swoon. His lips are a soft pink, tinged slightly from the wine. Seriously, he is that good looking he could be a film star. No wonder he has condoms. He probably gets through a crate of them each week. I imagine he has a different woman every night. He is probably quite accustomed to slipping them fifty quid, not to mention slipping them a little something else. My dear aunt’s house has become nothing more than a knocking shop. He looks the type who works hard and plays hard. I’m surprised he has got time to do fuck all else, let alone eat Chinese, but I suppose he needs to keep his strength up. I wait patiently and feel myself grow hotter as he deliberates. He lifts his glass and clinks it against mine. I see I still have half a glass left and it suddenly occurs to me he may have spiked the glass before pouring the wine. I don’t normally feel this light-headed after just half a glass.
‘To Driftwood,’ he says, ‘which I can’t possibly buy from you because there is nothing to say you own it.’
I scoff.
‘My Aunty Vera says I own it actually. She left it to me, remember?’
He might be good looking but he’s a bit brainless. He grins in that annoying way of his. His eyes twinkle and his nostrils flare.
‘She also left it to me, remember?’ he says, mimicking me. ‘Only one of us can own the house so I’m not able to buy you out of your share. In fa
ct, neither of us actually has a share, that is until we know which of our two wills is the last will and testament of Vera Cramton.’
This is ridiculous.
‘She was my great aunt so she obviously left it to me.’
He tops up my glass before I can stop him.
‘Both wills were made on the same day, albeit at different solicitors, and they were both titled the last will and testament of Vera Cramton. So, until the solicitors can find evidence to show the time each will was made, both wills are worthless and the cottage remains intestate I’m afraid,’ he says, smiling over his glass.
I look at him suspiciously. I visualise myself being dragged into his bedroom and chained to the bed in the manner of Anastasia Steele. I have to say it is a rather delicious thought. He is a rather appealing Christian Grey lookalike. I imagine being flogged by William Ellis is much more fun than when Oliver tried to do it. Oh, the thought of Ellis saying ‘Come for me baby, come now,’ is too much. I shudder and blush furiously. Good heavens, what is in this wine? It’s turning me into some kind of dirty bitch. Oh God, what am I thinking? I may not get out of here alive. I look into my glass and feel his eyes on me.
‘Don’t panic. I’ve run out of Rohypnol and you’ve exhausted me already. I don’t have the energy to molest you. Do you want the last spring roll?’
He has read my mind. How embarrassing as mine is a definite 18 certificate at the moment. I shake my head. He gleefully picks up the spring roll with his chopsticks.
‘Don’t you have somewhere else you can live?’ I hear myself say.
He tips some chips onto my plate and helps himself to the rest.
‘I want to live here,’ he says stubbornly. ‘Are you homeless or something?’ he adds, looking at me curiously.
Don’t answer Binki, don’t give anything away. I despairingly knock back the rest of the wine.
‘I have a luxury flat in the most sought-after residential area of Notting Hill actually,’ I say proudly.
‘Oh really,’ he says looking impressed and leaning back into his chair.
