Chapter 21
‘LET’S GO AGAIN,’ HE SAID. ‘PRESS DOWN SLOWLY ON the clutch.’
She pressed down slowly on the clutch.
‘Now move the gear stick into first.’
She jabbed at the gear stick. Why were first and third gears so close together?
‘Remember,’ he said, ‘try not to look down. Watch the road, and your mirror.’
She looked up, lifting her foot without thinking. The engine cut out, causing the car to give a little hop forward. ‘Blast!’
He smiled. ‘It’ll get easier. Let’s go again.’
He was the soul of patience, and she was hopeless. Just as well they were still on the lane after twenty minutes. He had more sense than to let her loose on the open road. She couldn’t imagine ever having the courage to go near it.
His car was old and grey and rusted in parts. The earthy smell inside reminded her of Noel’s stone shed. Newspapers covered the back seat. He’d brought a cushion for her to sit on: ‘I thought the seat might be a bit low, and I can’t adjust it.’
This had been a mistake, a crazy, ill-judged idea – what had she been thinking? She should have waited until after the baby. Dublin driving instructors would keep her away from busy roads too, until she was ready for them.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said at the end of the half hour. ‘It’s a lot to think about, but it will all come together. Few more sessions and you’ll be flying it.’
‘I’m a disaster.’
‘Everyone is at the start. Susan was terrible until she got the hang of it. You needn’t tell her I said that. You’ll be fine, I promise.’
She doubted it. She might be his first failure.
‘I’d better get off,’ he said, and she thanked him and got out. He threw her cushion into the back and slid over to the driver’s seat.
‘Same time tomorrow?’ he asked.
It was the last thing she wanted, but she couldn’t very well give up after one lesson. ‘Yes, if you don’t mind.’
She’d said she wanted to pay, and of course he hadn’t given her a price. I like to help people out, he’d said. If you pay, it turns it into something else. She’d have to get some gift ideas from Susan.
She’d meant to tell him about the American, see what he thought – but she’d been too focused on trying to manage the clutch and the accelerator and the brake, not to mention the blasted rear-view mirror, and it had slipped her mind.
She was finishing breakfast when her phone rang. She saw Deborah’s name – already? He must have got his offer in first thing.
‘Deborah.’
‘Lydia – you’ll know why I’m ringing.’
‘I have a fair idea.’
‘You should be sitting down for this.’
She sat down.
‘You’ve had an offer on the house from the gentleman who called to you yesterday.’ Deborah named a sum.
Not quite twice what they’d looked for, but not far off it. Despite his ‘Name your price’, Lydia hadn’t expected that. She would have thought he’d start lower. Madness.
‘Are you still there?’
‘I am.’
‘Needless to say, I’m recommending you accept it. I don’t generally advise vendors to accept the first offer that comes in, but I’m pretty sure you won’t do better.’
‘Did he tell you why he wants it?’ Lydia asked.
‘He said he has family connections.’
‘Just that?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘He said something to me about . . .’ What had he called it? ‘Property acquisition, I think. What does that mean?’
‘It means he’s in the business of buying and selling. Maybe he’s buying it on behalf of another party, for commission. It could be something like a hotel chain that has plenty of money.’
‘Oh . . .’ That made sense. Name your price.
‘It’s your decision, Lydia. I can only advise you. He’s given you until the end of the month to decide, so you can have a think.’
Deborah was right. There was no chance of anyone topping that bid.
If Lydia accepted it, she could afford a house in Dublin in a good area, one with three or four bedrooms, and a garden with room for the sandpit and the swing and the seesaw, and she would have enough left over to take her time about looking for work.
Maybe she could be a stay-at-home mother for the first vital year of her child’s life.
She still wished she knew his plans for it. A hotel that was part of a chain wouldn’t be so bad. They could put a good finish on it, fill it with decent furniture. They could install pretty tables and chairs on the patio. They might even adopt the cat as a feature.
It could be a high-end boutique hotel, rooms pricey enough to attract only the wealthiest clientele.
Gareth probably wouldn’t like it – they’d surely put a pool somewhere – but it would be good for the village to have people with plenty of money staying in the area.
Someone might open a little craft shop. The Saturday market might expand.
Her parents would tell her to take the offer. They’d think her crazy to be hesitating. Logic dictated that she accept it, common sense told her to jump at it – and still she couldn’t bring herself to say yes. Couldn’t let it go, not yet.
‘I’ll think about it,’ she said.