by Susan Lewis
Immediately arrested by the unusual blue eyes, Claudia felt a swell of gratitude toward the woman as she shook her hand. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” She grimaced. “I got caught up on the coast road, I’m afraid.”
“Roadworks, I know, but don’t worry, I have plenty to do here to keep me occupied. Let’s go in out of this gale. It’s still pretty much a shell, as you’ll see, but at least the main structure is complete and the windows are in. Kitchen not finished, I’m afraid, so I can’t offer you tea or coffee, and plumbing not connected either, so if you need to spend a penny you’ll have to go behind a hedge or along the lane to the Portaloos.”
“Where are the builders?” Claudia asked, taking in the spacious entrance hall with black and white checkered floor tiles, ungrouted, freshly plastered walls, and large oak staircase. “Everywhere seems so quiet, and didn’t I read on the sign that completion is due by Christmas?”
Andee groaned as she went through an open set of double doors into a substantial room with a granite fireplace at its center, built-in bookshelves, two large smeary windows at one end and double French doors at the other. “They’ve just been fired,” she explained. “They only got the job because the firm the developer normally uses was tied up elsewhere. Fortunately, the builder of choice has unexpectedly come free, so he and his team are starting tomorrow, which gives us a fighting chance of completing by early spring.” She held up two fingers, firmly crossed. “Late, but not as bad as it might have been.”
Claudia smiled and stooped to set down her bag and books. “Are they all sold?” she asked, not sure whether she was interested, but there was no harm in finding out.
“I know that six have deposits on them,” Andee replied, “but there are two left on the south side, closest to the moor, and frankly they’re going to be dark.”
Claudia wrinkled her nose. They certainly didn’t want a dark house.
“Are you looking?” Andee asked. “Because if you are there’s a gorgeous old Georgian coach house that’s just come on the market. It belongs to the original Haylesbury estate. We’re on the Haylesbury estate here, by the way. It’s in serious need of renovation, but the structure seems pretty sound. Would that sort of thing interest you?”
Claudia’s heart had already tripped with excitement. “Absolutely,” she confirmed. “It’s a dream of mine, bringing an old Georgian property back to life.”
“Then I think you’re going to love this one. It’s mostly single-story, for the carriages to drive in and out of once upon a time, with a clock tower at the center and beautiful arched windows along the front of each wing. We can take a look at it after, if you like. It’s not accessible from this plot; we’ll have to go back to the main road and in through the old estate gates about a hundred yards farther on. The manor burned down about ten years ago and was never rebuilt, so there are just open fields behind it that lead onto the moor.” Picking up a laptop from the small trestle table she was using as a desk, Andee said, “I’ve got some photographs of it here somewhere, but before we get to it we probably ought to focus on this place. I can show you the sort of thing I have in mind because the developer wants it to be similar to another show home we did together last year. Which isn’t to say I’m not open to new ideas, if you have any.”
“Is the developer someone you work with often?” Claudia asked, taking out her iPad ready to present her own portfolio.
“And also live with.” Andee’s smile was so infectious it made Claudia break into one of her own.
As they swapped devices Claudia said chattily, “Are you from this area?”
“Indeed I am. Graeme, my partner, isn’t, but he’s been here so long he might as well be. And you?”
Claudia felt herself flush. Although she’d expected to be asked about her life before Kesterly-on-Sea, she already didn’t want to deceive this woman. “Oh, I—I’m from London,” she said awkwardly, and opening up Andee’s show-home file on the laptop she began to scrutinize what had been done before.
Minutes later she was feeling almost childishly proud as Andee swiped through the shots of her work on the iPad, murmuring words like, “Wow,” “Amazing,” “Stunning,” and “So original.”
Realizing she might be appearing too interested in her own designs, Claudia continued scrolling through Andee’s photographs, but she hadn’t gotten far before Andee said, “Put that down. What you have here is so much more . . . sophisticated, different, but please don’t ever tell Cassie I said that. She’s who usually does the drapes and soft furnishings for me. She’s gone to take care of her invalided father, by the way, and isn’t expecting to be back anytime soon. Did you do all the cushions and throws in these shots?”
Claudia nodded.
“And the bedspreads?”
Claudia nodded again. “Making things is my passion,” she said, trying to sound modest, but not sure she’d succeeded.
Andee swiped through the presentation again. “You have an incredible eye for color and detail,” she commented admiringly, “and presumably a thriving business—unless all these pictures were taken in your own home.”
Claudia laughed as a flutter of nerves went through her. “No, they’re from clients’ homes,” she replied, “or past clients.” She couldn’t think what to add to that apart from, “I’m glad you like what you’ve seen.”
“I love it, and if you’re interested in the commission we need to start talking dates, styles, fabrics, pricing . . . You mentioned on the phone that you haven’t built up a team of workers yet, but there’s a good chance you can take over Cassie’s. Do you have someone to do the installations?”
“I don’t,” Claudia admitted, “but if . . .”
“Not to worry, I can help with that. Now, if you take a look at the show home on my laptop you’ll see the furniture that we’ll be bringing here. The colors have come out reasonably well, but it’s probably best if we visit it in storage so you can be certain of shade. Before that though, we should discuss style. So, over to you. Can you talk me through how you see these windows and French doors being dressed?”
In her element now, Claudia began to describe her ideas, illustrating them with examples of drapes she’d made before, suggesting modifications here and there, varying lengths and swags, pleats, tucks, linings, and waterfalls, always careful to gauge Andee’s responses before continuing.
Two hours later, having been into every one of the six downstairs rooms and all five upstairs, with Claudia taking photographs, making sketches, and explaining her vision, they were back in the hall and laughing at how fast the time had flown.
“I think we’re going to work very well together,” Andee announced, clearly as pleased with their new partnership as Claudia was, “especially if you can pull most of it off inside a month. Obviously you’ll need plenty of backup for that, so I’ll make some calls from the car on my way home to pave the way for you.”
Claudia said, “Thank you, and I’ll try to email over estimates of cost by tomorrow. If I think I’m going to have any problems sourcing the fabrics we’ve discussed I’ll let you know right away.”
“Excellent. And thanks so much for coming today. I finally feel as though everything’s going to be possible again.”
Thrilled, Claudia tucked away her measuring tapes and camera and heard herself saying rashly, “I’d really like to see the coach house before we go?”
“Of course, I’m glad you reminded me. If I’d known I’d have brought the keys with me, but you’ll get a pretty good idea of it from the exterior and if you don’t fall in love with it on sight I’ll have to review my already high opinion of you.”
It took all of three minutes to drive back down the lane and along the road to where a set of dilapidated gates was wide open and partially unhinged. Claudia drove in behind Andee and followed the Mercedes along a short track with one simple curve, and although the rain was coming down heavily now nothing, absolutely nothing could detract from the charm of the house they saw before them as
they pulled up. It was just as Andee had described it, with a central clock tower, and two single-story wings on either side of it, each with three huge arched windows that had clearly once been carriage doors. Apart from its perfect symmetry and the exquisite limestone facade (badly stained and cracked, but repairable), its character seemed so alive and welcoming that Claudia was ready to believe it was waking up just for her.
Her passenger door opened and Andee jumped in, quickly closing it behind her. “What do you think?” she asked eagerly.
Claudia couldn’t tear her eyes away. “I already love it,” she murmured, gazing at the weather-beaten front door with a broken transom above it and crumbling pillars holding up a storm-damaged porch. “I’m going to take a closer look, if that’s OK?”
“Be my guest. In fact, I’ll come with you.”
Pulling up their hoods they picked a path through what must have once been a carriage turning space, now cracked and weed-strewn, and went to peer in through the arched windows to the left of the front door. Claudia’s heart instantly swelled at the sight of a huge, old-fashioned kitchen swathed in grime and cobwebs, with a boarded-up window on the far side above a grimy butler’s sink, and barred French doors leading to the backyard. It had so much potential that she simply couldn’t stop her imagination from flying.
“Something else, isn’t it?” Andee commented.
“It certainly is,” Claudia agreed.
Through the arched windows to the right of the main door was a large rectangular room with a high corniced ceiling, an eyesore of a tiled fireplace, an upturned chair and rags on the dusty floorboards, and a staircase in one corner.
Not caring about getting wet anymore, Claudia stood back to look up at the tower. “Are there rooms up there?” she asked.
“Two quite big ones,” Andee replied. “And there are more either side of these main wings—you see the smaller windows? I’m guessing the old coach master lived at one end and probably other staff were housed at the opposite end. More recently they’ve been converted into bedrooms, but they can be anything you want them to be.”
Rain was running down Claudia’s face as she shook her head in wonder, taking in the sheer elegance of the place in its secluded setting of old trees and ragged bushes. “I don’t have to go inside or around the back to know that this is perfect for us,” she declared.
Andee quickly took out her phone. “I should have done this before,” she muttered. “I need to check with Graeme that it’s still available.”
Claudia stiffened with horror. It hadn’t occurred to her that it might not be, but moments later Andee was smiling again as she gave the thumbs-up and Claudia unraveled with relief.
“I expect you’d like to know the price?” Andee suggested as she rang off.
Claudia was ready to pay anything.
“They want five hundred and fifty thousand, but I reckon you could probably get it for five. And being realistic, you’ll probably need about the same to fix it up.”
“It’s not a problem,” Claudia assured her. “We can make an offer right away, although I probably ought to let my mother and daughter see it first.”
Clearly delighted, Andee said, “Let me know when they can make it and we’ll come again with the keys.”
As they returned to their cars Claudia said, rashly, “We’re thinking of having a little celebration later, to mark my first commission since arriving here—I mean, if I get it . . .”
“You’ve got it . . .”
“. . . So I was wondering if you might like to join us?”
Andee’s eyes lit up. “I’d love to,” she said warmly. “Just tell me where and when.”
Surprised and thrilled, Claudia said, “Does seven work for you? We’re in an apartment at the station end of the Promenade. I’ll text the address. I thought I’d ask Leanne if she can make it too. After all, it’s thanks to her that this has come about.”
“I’m sure she’d love to come if she’s free.”
After thanking Andee again, Claudia got into her car, but didn’t immediately drive away. She wanted to look at the house a while longer and continue to feel the sense of connection that had come over her the minute she’d laid eyes on it. She couldn’t remember the last time anything had felt so right in her life, and because the draw was so powerful she wanted to hold on to it for as long as she could.
In the end, after feeling certain that Joel had been watching it with her, she said a silent au revoir and turned the car around to begin the drive home. She needed to call her mother to let her know that their little celebration was on, and she should text Leanne to invite her to join them. Already she was imagining champagne glasses sparkling, corks popping, friends toasting one another, and realizing how widely she was smiling, she broke into a happy laugh.
Chapter Ten
“I thought we were going to the cinema,” Graeme protested when Andee informed him of the evening’s change of plan.
“We can go tomorrow,” she promised, planting a kiss on his cheek as she passed him to get to the fridge with the groceries she’d brought in. “She’s a godsend, she really is. So talented and available and definitely very keen to buy the coach house. She’s interesting too, because I Googled her after I left the Heights and the only Claudia Winters that came up were definitely not her.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Why on earth did you Google her?”
She shrugged. “It’s the kind of thing I do, you know that.”
Of course he did. “And what are you deducing from your lack of findings?” he inquired with mock seriousness, taking the avocados she was passing and putting them in the fruit bowl.
Rolling her eyes at him, she said, “She’s definitely a professional. I saw her sketching and the way she articulated her ideas could only be done by an expert. So, what I’m deducing is that for some reason she’s changed her name—maybe to break with her old life.” She turned to face him and wasn’t surprised to find him regarding her with the expression he usually adopted when attempting to keep up with the way her mind worked.
“So now you’re thinking what?” he asked, amused. “That she’s in witness protection or something?”
With a smile she pulled a box of muesli from the bag to put aside for the pantry. “No, of course not,” she replied, before adding—not able to help herself—“When the Protected Persons Service—that’s its official title, by the way—sets someone up with a new identity they provide social media profiles, pages on search engines leading to past history, all sorts of stuff to give them cover. And Claudia doesn’t have any of that.” Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as a few scenarios played out in her mind, but they were cut short by her mobile jingling the arrival of a text. It was from Leanne.
See you at Claudia’s. So glad she’s able to help. Xx
Replying with I owe you, Andee put the phone down and turned back to Graeme. He was checking his own phone now, scrolling through emails, deleting as he went or thumbing off quick replies, and as she watched him, she found herself feeling sorry there was so little time before she had to go out.
Looking up as she removed the mobile from his grasp and slipped her arms around his neck, Graeme drew her in close and murmured, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“It’s just for being you,” she replied, gazing suggestively into his eyes.
“So, I’m getting something right?”
“You always do, or almost always. Did you see Tom today, by any chance?”
“I didn’t.”
“Then he hasn’t told you that he’s asked Leanne to marry him?”
His eyebrows rose. “No, but I think we saw that coming, didn’t we?”
She nodded and after a moment said, “Can you do me a huge favor and not ask me? Just in case you were thinking of it, which you probably weren’t, but we’re OK as we are, aren’t we?”
His eyes moved curiously between hers. “If you say so,” he replied carefully.
She frowned. “Not quite the answer I was ex
pecting.”
He smiled and kissed her. “You know,” he said, taking back his phone, “I think I’ll give Dan a call to see if he’s free for a bite, seeing as you’re now otherwise engaged.”
Chapter Eleven
“OK, so I need to give you a heads-up on everyone who’s coming tonight,” Jasmine declared as she slotted her neatly cased surfboard into a hall cupboard—this being one of her several new hobbies she’d taken up during the five months since settling here. “You know that Abby’s mum, Leanne, has a partner called Tom who owns the Tramonto Hotel on Kesterly Heights. Abby’s grandma is called Wilkie and she’s a blast, completely eccentric, and you’ll love her on sight, if she comes. Abby’s dad died, which is something else us two have in common besides all the other stuff, and the local theater is named after him, the Delaney. Oh, and she has a half sister who lives in the States called Kate.” She frowned irritably. “Is anyone listening to me?”
“Of course,” Claudia and Marcy answered in unison. They were in the kitchen laying out the canapés Marcy had picked up from M&S on her way back from the community center, while Claudia had rushed home to make sure there was champagne in the fridge and the flat was presentable.
“Good, so who’s Leanne’s partner?” Jasmine tested.
“Tom,” Claudia replied. “Now tell us what you know about Andee Lawrence.”
“Absolutely nothing.” Jasmine smiled sweetly, and taking the pile of hand-embroidered napkins she was being offered she began to fold them into the shapes her mother preferred.
“Actually, I can tell you something,” Marcy offered. “I mean besides the fact that she’s an interior designer. Apparently, she used to be a detective and is who everyone goes to if they’re in any kind of trouble.”
Slightly thrown by that, Claudia turned to look at her. “A detective?” she echoed.
“That’s right,” Marcy replied distractedly. “Henry said she gave it up a few years ago and—”
“Who’s Henry?” Claudia interrupted.
“Oh, just someone I know at the community center.”
