Love for Auction

by Karen Klyne

Kim got up and shook Jan’s hand, then hugged her. “Why not? After all, it could work out well for everyone, and what have we got to lose?” It was a lifeline, one that fit the puzzle of Kim’s life, no matter what happened between her and Phil.

  ***

  Phil sat at the table cradling a cup of strong coffee. She couldn’t help but think about Kim. The sex had been simply amazing. All her life she’d thought of herself as the pleasure giver, but last night it had changed, and she was as much on the receiving end as the giving. It was a new and thrilling experience.

  She wasn’t into heart-to-heart discussions. She’d never had to be. Her heart had never been involved. Was it now? Something was different. When she’d sat having breakfast with Kim, she waited…and waited…for the shit to hit the fan. Come on. Where was it? Why wasn’t it showing itself? Where were the palpitations, the chest pain, the choking, the sweating, and the dizziness? Had the panic attack taken flight? She tried to shrug it off. Maybe the bacon sandwich had taken her mind off it. That’s a good one.

  It was worrying, because she couldn’t help but think about Cass and Rebecca’s relationship, and how they’d ended up all boring and cosy. And yet, she couldn’t think of a better person than Kim to get bored and cosy with. That might suffice for a few days, or weeks, or even months, but then she’d lose interest. It was just a whim, and her desire would dwindle as it always did. She certainly didn’t want to hurt Kim, but she couldn’t imagine that this relationship could last. And did she want it to anyway? That would mean commitment, and she was definitely averse to that. Wasn’t she? Somehow, she wasn’t as sure about that as she’d always been.

  On her way to work, she whistled a happy tune. She parked outside the bakery and picked up some Danish pastries for Carole and Abby in the office. She waltzed in and dropped the pastries on Carole’s desk. “I’ll go make some coffee to go with those. It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”

  “Phil, it’s Monday. Nobody can be happy on Monday unless they’ve got out of someone’s bed the right side.”

  Phil winked. “Got it in one.” She brought the mugs of coffee over and perched on the edge of Carole’s desk.”

  When Alan walked down from his office, both the girls rolled their eyes.

  “Ooh, coffee and pastries. Is there enough for me?”

  Phil nearly choked on her pastry and spit crumbs all over the carpet. Alan wasn’t known for his chirpiness, and it came as quite a shock. She fetched him a coffee and offered him a Danish.

  “Lovely. Isn’t this pleasant? We must make a regular thing of this.”

  Carole and Abby exchanged suspicious looks. Phil couldn’t blame them. When Alan left them, he was chirpy and humming a monotonous tune. That was even more out of character. Phil was all for making the most of it. Alan seemed happy to look after the office side of things, and she loved to deal with the valuations. Conventional house sales were up this year, and their auction properties had increased. The next one was February, and she’d have plenty of time to prepare for that over the next two months. November had been a quiet month, and it looked like December and January wouldn’t be too hectic. Just a question of consolidation. Her biggest concern was she’d have to compete with another auction house for a property on a rather large site. She hadn’t seen it yet, but the sooner she did, the sooner she’d know if Farrell and Young stood any chance. She phoned the occupants and arranged an appointment for mid-week.

  As soon as she saw the house and the land, she knew the potential. It was old and Victorian and painted in a sort of indigo blue. It was funny how she’d never seen it before. Possibly because it stood a long way from the road in grounds of one and a half acres. She’d done her research. She was sure from the location and history of planning permission granted in this area that this would be judged solely as a building plot, and they’d knock the existing house down. God knows how many houses they’d get on it. Odds were, with higher end housing, they’d build maybe four or five of them. Of course, the other agents would be thinking the same, so it was up to her to convince the owners to go with them. She’d have to go all out to impress and keep her cards very close to her chest. As she got nearer the house, she could see it was slightly dilapidated, but that wouldn’t really matter to the builders since they’d be knocking it down anyway. They couldn’t give a toss about the memories the owners cherished. It was all about making mega bucks.

  She made her way up the wooden steps that led onto an open porch. Perched on the left was a well-used, broken patio swing seat. There were tubs of old flowers scattered around the veranda. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. They smelled of lavender. She loved that aroma: it reminded her of her childhood, particularly of her grandmother. Her cottage garden had been a mass of lavender bushes. She remembered how her grandmother used to make homemade lemonade and serve it to her on the terrace. She never realised how poignant that smell had been until now. How often had this couple sat here doing much the same?

  She tapped on the door. It was only a few seconds before the door opened, and a lovely little old lady stood the other side. Her smile, tucked among the deep laugh lines in her face, looked genuine. Phil held out her hand. “Mrs Gilbert?”

  “That’s me.” She shook Phil’s hand. “Come on in, dear, and let’s shut that cold wind out.”

  She followed Mrs Gilbert down the hall, through to the lounge, and into a conservatory.

  Phil smiled and put her hand out to the gentleman who’d just risen from his seat. “Mr Gilbert. I’m pleased to meet you and your wife. My name’s Philippa Young, from Farrell and Young.”

  Mr Gilbert shook her hand vigorously. “Pleased to meet you, young lady. I’m William, and this is Enid. We spotted you coming up the path. I knew it was you. We’ve seen you on the telly.”

  She smiled. “Please call me Philippa or Phil, if you like.”

  William nodded. “I like Philippa best. It rolls off the tongue nicely.”

  Phil smiled. “Philippa it is then.”

  “Tea?” Enid asked.

  “Please. That would be lovely.”

  “Do you want to take a look around the house first, dear? Feel free.”

  “Good idea. I’ll be back shortly.” There wasn’t really any point looking around, because she knew any developer would bulldoze the place. Still, there was always the odd chance that someone would buy it for the land and the property, though she doubted it. She wasn’t about to insult the Gilberts by declining the opportunity to look around. After all, according to the records they’d lived here all their lives, and there must be so many happy memories attached to the house. She wanted to treat that aspect with respect.

  The house was much as she expected, and when she’d finished, she went back and sat with William. Enid came in right away with a trolley carrying a pot of tea, possibly her best china cups and saucers, a small jug of milk, and a sugar bowl. On the bottom of the trolley were the plates and a selection of cream cakes. Phil’s eyes lit up. “They look nice.”

  William chuckled. “I like you, Philippa. You’re funny. I like you a lot more than that man from that other company. I didn’t like him at all.”

  Phil held back a grin. Score one for the good guys.

  “William tends to speak his mind. He’s right, though. And just because we’re in our eighties, it doesn’t mean we’ve lost our minds. He was patronising,” Enid said. She poured the tea and passed it over, along with a plate and napkin. “Help yourself.”

  What a treat. Phil picked a cream slice. As she bit into it, the cream squirted out from each side. She finished her mouthful, then scooped up the cream with a finger, and put it in her mouth. There was a surplus of cream on her lips, so she licked them. No way was she wasting any of that delicious cream. Enid and William laughed. When she looked up, they were watching her. Neither of them had a cake, but she’d been too wrapped up in her own to notice. “Aren’t you joining me?”

  They shook their heads. “Oh, no. We’re both diabetic. We bought them especially fo
r you.”

  “How sweet of you both.” What a lovely couple they were.

  William pointed to the cream puff. “That one’s good. I remember it from long ago.”

  There were five more on the plate. How on earth was she going to manage them? Even her sweet tooth couldn’t cope with any more. “Enid, William…” She looked from one to the other. She shook her head. “No, I can’t possibly ask you.”

  Enid leaned forward. “You can ask us anything, Philippa.”

  Phil motioned toward the tray. “The thing is, I’m having dinner with my friend tonight. You might know her. Kim Besson? She’s just moved into her new home, and I said I’d bring dessert. Honestly, I just haven’t had the time to buy one. Would you think me awfully cheeky if I took one or two of the cakes with me? It’d certainly put me in good books.”

  They were all smiles. “We’d be delighted. You can take them all. I bet you’ve still got the box, haven’t you, Enid?”

  “I have indeed. I’ll just go and pack them away and put them in the pantry.”

  William shook his head. “Kim Besson, eh? Haven’t seen her since she was a kiddie. I knew her father well, though. He was a splendid chap. I had the greatest of admiration for him. Such a sad business.”

  Phil nodded. “It was. I never had the pleasure of meeting him, but they say his daughter, Kim, is a chip off the old block.”

  Enid returned and refilled their cups.

  Phil slapped her leg. “Do you know, I was so enjoying myself that I almost forgot why I was here.”

  Enid nodded. “Yes, that’s funny. I think we all feel the same way. Still, I suppose you’d better give us your verdict.”

  “Your home is delightful and so full of character. And I’m sure you’re aware that you’re sitting on a prime piece of land.”

  They nodded.

  “I honestly don’t think I could put a value on it today. I’d like to give it a lot more thought and talk it over with my partner, Alan Farrell. How would you feel about another meeting? Perhaps I could bring Alan with me?” There were lots of questions Phil wanted to ask, but she wanted to do some research first and come up with an estimated valuation before she asked too many. She didn’t want to overwhelm them.

  “That’s an excellent idea. What say you, William?”

  “I say wonderful if it means we’ll get to see you again.”

  Enid picked up her diary and turned the pages. “Same time next week would be good for us.”

  “Sounds perfect.” Phil rose to her feet, and William followed her to the door whilst Enid went to fetch her cakes. “Thanks so much for these, and I’ll see you next week.”

  Phil drove home in high spirits. The meeting had gone well, and it wouldn’t be long before she saw Kim. Her private project, one only Cass knew about, was on track. While there might be issues with it down the line, for now, she was happy about it. She got back, showered, and put on some casual clothes. She packed an overnight bag and a change of clothes for the morning. She’d leave them in the car, just in case Kim didn’t invite her to stay. Was she being too pushy and presumptuous? She’d soon find out.

  Kim greeted her at the door.

  “Hello, gorgeous.” Phil thrust a box of cakes into Kim’s hand. “I’ll explain later.”

  Kim placed them in the fridge, and when she turned around Phil took her in her arms and gently pushed her against the countertop. She kissed Kim hard, and she responded in kind. She pulled out Kim’s blouse and slid her hand beneath. Kim pushed her away.

  “We’re eating first. Then you can do whatever you like with me.”

  Phil grinned. “Guess I’ll have to wait. Do I take it you’ll let me stay?” Say yes. She was itching to find out if the panic attacks would return at a second breakfast opportunity. Sometimes they seemed like an old friend, a nice familiar blanket of sorts. What would she do if that old friend deserted her?

  Kim tilted her head from one side to the other and smiled. “Yes. As long as you don’t behave.”

  “No chance. In that case, can I bring a change of clothes in?”

  “Go ahead. Sounds like you’d already made the decision to stay.”

  “No. I always carry around a change of clothes and a toothbrush.” She winked. “Never know when you might get lucky.”

  Kim winced. “After that, make yourself useful and lay the table.”

  Phil bit her tongue, knowing she should stop making such flippant comments. It would be fine coming from anyone else, but it was too close to the bone coming from her. Phil tried to make light of it. “Did you say lay you on the table?”

  Kim ignored her, but at least she smiled before she disappeared into the kitchen.

  Over dinner, Phil told her about the meeting with Enid and William and how she’d come about acquiring the cakes. “With a bit of luck, I’ll have some more next week if you invite me over for dinner.”

  “I bet you have everyone eating out of your hand.”

  “No, actually. I’ve become quite picky these days. My incredibly talented hands are reserved only for the lucky few.”

  “That’s what I love about you, Phil, your modesty.”

  “Talking of modesty, let’s go and get indecent.” Phil stood, took Kim’s hand, and led her up the stairs.

  The following morning over breakfast, Phil waited yet again. Her panic attack was absent. It hadn’t given any notice, and she certainly hadn’t given it permission to leave. As it had deserted her, even if it was temporary, she decided to bring up a subject she’d normally avoid: Christmas. She’d always spent it with Cass. That was fine. She was a friend. Now she was contemplating spending it with her girlfriend. Girlfriend? Was that the territory they were in? She tried to stop overthinking. “How do you feel about spending Christmas together?”

  Kim grimaced. “Don’t you usually spend it with your friend in London?”

  “Sometimes, for the odd day or two. I thought we could spend this one together, if you’d like.” The strangely vulnerable feeling was new but not entirely unwelcome. Kim’s smile made her light up inside.

  “I can’t think of anything better. You do know I’m going to be tied up at the Pheasant right up until then? And Christmas Day lunch.”

  Phil wiggled her eyebrows. “Tied up sounds fun.” She blinked rapidly, attempting to erase the vision and focus on the moment. “Anyway, I can give you a hand there. Can I stay with you from Christmas Eve to Boxing Day?”

  Kim smiled. “Is this some sort of marathon?”

  Phil stroked her chin. “Could be.”

  “Could be nice waking up on Christmas morning and finding you under the tree.”

  Kim dragged her fingernail up Phil’s arm, making her shiver.

  “I’d prefer to find you in the bed under me.”

  “Sounds even better. That’s a date, then.”

  Phil pondered. The future looked promising. But there was still one big obstacle to overcome, and at some point, she’d have to come clean. It wasn’t a wrongdoing that she’d tried to hide but so much had happened so quickly, and she hadn’t found the right time to tell Kim about the purchase she’d made. Now it was turning into something more, something bigger. She was sure Kim would understand when the time came to tell her about it. She kept her fingers, legs, and eyes crossed just in case.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kim wrote everything in her notepad and set off to Jan’s pub. There were vans parked everywhere. Plumbers, electricians, painters, decorators, carpet fitters, the works. When she got inside, she could already see a difference. Everything old was stripped and gone. New, bright wallpaper adorned the walls, and the fitters were busy laying the carpets.

  “Come up. It’ll be quieter up here.” Jan shouted from the top of the stairs.

  Kim followed her into a small sitting room opposite the bedroom. It looked so cheerful now that Dave had left. It was hard to digest, but Jan’s happy demeanour assured Kim that Jan had made the right decision.

  Kim set her plans out in front of
Jan. “I thought we’d kick off with an Italian night, which are always very popular. I’m thinking lasagne or pizza followed by tiramisu or gelato. We’ll have an offer on wine on each of the evenings. We’ll call it something simple like Buona Sera, Italia. We’ll decorate the pub in Italian style and have Italian music playing. For another one, we’ll do a selection of pies. Then a surf and turf evening, a chilli night, then maybe a tapas night or even a paella.” Kim laughed. “I’m pretty good at paellas now.”

  “I think those are all wonderful ideas, Kim. I’m sure the brewery will love it and back it one hundred percent.”

  “Great. I’ll order the banners for outside. You manage all the advertising, and we’ll organise everything else together.” Kim grinned and leaned back in her seat. “I’m so excited. This is exactly what I needed.”

  Jan stood and went around the table. She hugged Kim tightly. “Me too. We’ll show this village, eh?”

  “Absolutely.” Kim rubbed her hands together. “Right. Back to work. I’m off now to prepare spreadsheets for the costings, and then Phil’s taking me out for dinner.”

  “Sounds wonderful. Lucky you.” She touched Kim’s arm. “How’s it going with you two?”

  “Good. It’s working well.” Kim gave a small laugh. “I know he didn’t intend to, but in the end, Dave did us all a big favour. Ironic, isn’t it?”

  “So true. I have this feeling that for once, everything is falling into place.”

  She hoped Jan was right. But it all seemed too good to be true. It was easy for Phil. She’d lived all her adult life as a lesbian, whereas Kim hadn’t. If it were Manchester, she dared say it would be easier, but living in a village, the village she was brought up in…well, it wasn’t that easy. She still felt self-conscious about holding hands in public, let alone kissing. People stared, even though they’d had time to get used to Phil and her reputation. She was an outsider, whereas Kim had been raised here. She got the sense they might see it differently when it came to her. She supposed she had to come to terms with it herself. And so would everyone else. They just had to give it time.