Chapter 12
Nella rapped the wrought-iron knocker and waited. Seconds later, the door of the cottage next to hers opened, and there he was.
‘You’re here,’ said Nick.
‘I’m here.’ She nodded in confirmation. Yes, it was good to see him again. Yes, he was still as seriously attractive as she remembered. And yes, she’d wondered what it was going to be like working with him, of course she had. But it went without saying that it would be a bad idea to get involved with your boss.
Plus, that was assuming he would be even remotely interested in her, when in all likelihood she wasn’t his type at all.
‘Welcome to Starbourne.’ And now he was smiling that smile of his, the one that made her melt.
She wasn’t going to melt. ‘Thanks. I’ve just been to the churchyard. Did you put those orange roses on my grandad’s grave?’
‘Me? Definitely not.’ But he was teasing her; who else would have done it?
‘It’s really nice of you.’
‘They happened to have them in the shop. I was buying flowers for the other houses. It’ll be one of your jobs from now on.’
‘Can’t wait.’
He collected a key from the table behind him and took her next door. ‘I need to head up to London for a meeting, so I can’t show you around the properties until tomorrow. But can I help you with your cases?’
‘It’s fine, no need. I’ll settle myself in and try not to make too much noise tomorrow morning.’ Deadpan, as Nick started to laugh, she said, ‘I promise to be a considerate neighbour.’
Twenty minutes later, as she was unpacking her clothes upstairs in the bedroom that overlooked the street, Nella saw him jump into his car and head off. After another hour, as she was eating chilli-cheese on toast in the kitchen, Tommy’s number flashed up on her phone.
‘All OK? Settling in?’
He and Juliet were still flying under the radar, hiding out in Thailand. Still blissfully happy together, too. Nella licked melted butter from her fingers and said, ‘It’s a dear little cottage. Feels kind of strange to be back. But nice.’
‘Better than that bloody awful hotel you were working in. I really hope everything works out for you down there. Have you heard how the clubs are doing?’
Predictably, within days of them going on the market, his clubs had been snapped up by Jed Diamond. Nella said, ‘Do you want the good news or the bad news?’
‘Both.’
‘And there’s your answer. They’re doing really well.’ She was certain he already knew this. ‘Which is good for Manchester. And bad because you were hoping he would fail, but he hasn’t.’
‘Yeah. Still, we can always live in hope.’
‘Jed’s an astute businessman. He’s great at his job.’
‘I know.’ They’d once been friendly rivals, pretending to hate each other because it made for a good story. Now the friendship had soured for good and Tommy and Juliet were living in exile. Nella just hoped she was worth it.
‘Are you happy over there?’
‘Course I am. We both are. We love each other,’ said Tommy. ‘If this is what we have to do to be together, we’ll do it. Have you heard who he’s seeing now?’
‘Jed? No.’ Of course Tommy was keeping himself up to date with the situation back in Manchester.
‘Karina Carr.’
‘OK. Wow. Bit of a change.’ Karina had featured in one of the syndicated reality shows about wealthy married couples, the kind that made you boggle at their luxury lifestyles then made you realise there was more to life than seven-carat diamonds, flashy holidays and designer gold-plated loos, because all those people ever seemed to do was bicker and bitch and spend their days scoring points off their so-called friends. Karina, now separated from her third husband, had evidently chosen Jed Diamond as the latest love of her life.
‘He just wants to convince people he’s moved on. It won’t last.’
‘Better for you if it does,’ Nella pointed out. ‘It could be the real thing.’
‘And I could be Ryan Reynolds. Ah well, you have fun. That new boss of yours is a lucky guy and I just hope he appreciates you.’
‘I’ll tell him you said so.’ She picked up the last triangle of toast. ‘Anyway, speak soon and— Oh wow!’
‘Oh wow what?’ said Tommy.
Nella dropped the toast back onto her plate and raced to the window. ‘I think I’ve just spotted someone I haven’t seen for years.’
Ending the call, she pulled open the front door and yelled out, ‘Hey!’
Bit embarrassing if she’d made a mistake. But then he turned and she saw that it was indeed him.
‘Hugo!’ Waving madly, she raced barefoot up the street and saw his expression clear as recognition dawned.
‘Nell? What’s going on? This is amazing – what are you doing here?’
‘I just moved in.’ She pointed at the cottage forty yards down the road behind her.
Hugo looked surprised. ‘With Nick?’
‘No! Next door. I’m his new concierge. You know Nick, then?’
‘Of course I do. We were at school together. You must have heard me talking about him back then. When I was being bullied, he stood up for me. That’s why I sold the land to him. And now he’s your boss? This is outstanding news!’ Hugo Peverell swept her up in an enthusiastic hug. ‘It’s so good to see you again.’
‘You too. But you have to put me down before you drop me.’ Maybe he’d grown less accident-prone over the years, but she doubted it; Hugo’s clumsiness had always made him a bit of a liability.
The elder son of Constance and Henry Peverell of Starbourne Manor, Hugo had been sent away to boarding school at a young age. Sensitive and somewhat shy, but as eager to please as a Labrador puppy, he had been home for the summer holidays when Nella had met him for the first time, when she’d moved here aged fourteen. She was new to the village and he had no friends living locally, so they’d struck up a friendship out of necessity. It had endured too, despite their drastically different social backgrounds and the fact that Constance and Henry had done their best to discourage them from spending time together.
For three years they’d remained close. Well, relatively speaking. Most of the time Hugo was away at school, and sections of the holidays had been spent abroad with various relatives. Their lives couldn’t have been more dissimilar, and nor could their personalities. When Nella had left the local comprehensive and moved up to Edinburgh to embrace nannydom, they’d stayed in touch for a while, but over time the connection between them had loosened and reduced, chiefly because Hugo was rubbish at keeping up with social media and had gone to live and work on a game reserve in Kenya. Last year she’d sent him a message on his birthday, but by this time his Facebook page had become a wasteland and she hadn’t heard back from him.
Now, though, he was here in Starbourne, hugging the life out of her. One of the wealthiest men she’d ever known, he was wearing a polo shirt with a frayed collar, a purple cashmere sweater holier than a colander, and crumpled beige corduroy trousers that concertinaed around his ankles and probably belonged to his father. Hugo was rich, he was clever and he had a kind heart; if only she could fancy him, she’d be made for life.
But she didn’t, never had. They were always destined to be just friends instead.
‘You haven’t changed,’ he told her now.
‘Nor have you. Tell me everything. Wife? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?’
‘The occasional girlfriend. No one special. They never seem to last long.’ He shrugged, as self-deprecating as ever. ‘As soon as they find out how dull I am, they’re off.’
‘Stop it,’ Nella told him. ‘It’s their loss. One day you’re going to meet the perfect woman for you and she’ll be so lucky.’
‘Well, fingers crossed.’ His cheeks flushed slightly. ‘Anyway, how about you?’
‘I’ve been living in Manchester, enjoying working and being single. And now I’m here. How’s the family?’
‘All good, all good. Parents are getting on a bit now, and Pa’s arthritis is bad, which is why I’m back, being trained up to take over the running of the estate. Ma’s the same as ever. And Tristan hasn’t changed.’ He gave her the kind of wry smile that said it all, because Tristan, his brother, five years his junior, had always been a nightmare, cheeky and attention-seeking, the apple of his mother’s eye.
‘What’s Tristan doing these days?’
‘Vodka shots, mainly. And probably cocaine. He’s living it up in London most of the time, comes down here every week or so to see Ma and Pa. We don’t have much in common, but when he’s here he still likes to take the mickey out of me, tell me where I’m going wrong.’
Nella guessed this meant Tristan continued to be the bane of Hugo’s life and was still living off a hefty allowance from his adoring parents. Oh well, it was none of her business.
‘If I see him, maybe I’ll tell him where he’s going wrong,’ she said with a smile. ‘Look, I need to finish getting unpacked, but we can meet up again soon, yes? There’s so much to catch up on.’
‘Definitely.’ Hugo gave her another hug and managed to get the end of her hoop earring caught up in one of the moth holes in his purple sweater. When they’d finished disentangling themselves, he said, ‘Sorry about that. I never did figure out how to be suave.’
Nella checked; no blood, which was good. ‘I wouldn’t want you to be suave. Look, I don’t have my phone with me, but tell me your number and I’ll call you as soon as I’m settled in. You can come over for something to eat.’
He rattled off the string of figures. ‘You can still remember phone numbers then?’
‘It’s my super-power.’
He regarded her with fondness. ‘Along with chasing away the village kids when they tried to throw my pushbike into the pond. You and Nick both rescued me when I needed it. And now you’re working for him. Did you hear what happened with the last concierge?’
Nella nodded. ‘He told me. I’ve promised not to do anything like that.’
‘Best not.’ Hugo patted her on the shoulder, trapping a strand of her hair between the steel links of his watch. ‘Oh God, sorry, done it again . . .’