Chapter Five
One of the benefits from working as an estate agent is getting inside info. Getting the heads up on property valuations. Knowing mortgage brokers. Having a working relationship with conveyancers. Also, identifying from our client database, who might be interested in a potential sale or purchase days ahead of a property’s details being uploaded online. And right now, I fell into the latter category and wanted first dibs on Starlight Cottage.
‘This property sounds perfect for you,’ said Lisa cosily. ‘It’s certainly affordable. After all, you should achieve a good price for your place. You and Robin own an executive house with several empty bedrooms.’ She caught my expression and swiftly moved the conversation forward. ‘Your property is also perfectly placed for schools, bus routes, railways stations, shops and motorway links.’
Together we did the maths. If the sums were right, I’d just about have enough to buy Starlight Cottage with a manageable mortgage, but time was of the essence. I’d need to give in to Robin and let him and Samanatha buy me out.
That afternoon, the vendor came into the office. Lisa shook Albert Garroway’s hand before going through the paperwork with him. After some chit-chat, Mr Garroway handed over a housekey. Now that his wife’s funeral was out the way, he wanted to head off to Dorset and spend a week with family recharging his emotional batteries. Meanwhile, he was entrusting the agency to oversee the internal photographs and take care of any viewings.
When Mr Garroway left, Lisa turned to me.
‘After work, why don’t you drive over to Starlight Croft. Do a recce of the village. Have a peek at the outside of the cottage. You could also give Robin a call. Let him know that you’ve come round to his way of thinking and might even consider moving out immediately.’
‘I can’t vacate at the moment,’ I protested. ‘I have nowhere to go.’
‘You can have my sofa until the conveyancing is done,’ said Lisa generously.
‘But what about you and Phil?’ I asked.
Phil had been in touch again. He was badgering my bestie to pick up where they’d left off.
‘What about him?’ Lisa sniffed.
‘I presumed you were thinking about getting back together.’
She shook her head.
‘Nah. I blew him out.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. What did he do wrong this time?’
So she told me. Apparently, Phil, despite being a rather bland and non-descript fifty-five-year-old, was a fan of an app that promoted no-strings hookups for couples who wanted threesomes.
Lisa pursed her lips.
‘Phil told me that life was short, and that I should be adventurous while I still had the chance. That I needed to let my hair down and’ – she adopted a silly voice – ‘ be more fun. ’ She rolled her eyes. ‘The stupid prat. He also said that a threesome was every man’s fantasy, and that it was now or never.’
‘Bloody cheek,’ I said, affronted on my friend’s behalf.
‘I said I’d think about it.’
‘What?’ I squawked.
She gave the ghost of a smile before continuing.
‘Don’t look so shocked. Phil was initially delighted. He said, “Oh, babe, that’s amazing. I just know you’re gonna love being sandwiched between me and another woman.” Whereupon I retorted, “Who said anything about the third person being female?” Phil then got the right hump. He called me a pervert for even thinking he could get it on with another man. Pot, kettle, black,’ she smirked.
‘Oh,’ I blinked. I gave Lisa a curious look. ‘You wouldn’t really be up for a threesome with two men, would you?’
‘Of course not,’ she snorted. ‘I’m an old-fashioned girl who likes straightforward couplings. Anyway, Phil and I are now on an indefinite sabbatical. If he wants to do threesomes, foursomes, or even fivesomes, let him get on with it. But he can count me out. Currently there seems to be a lot of fifty-something men having some sort of sexual crisis. The amount of guys I’ve come across popping Viagra then going on weird websites to perk up their willies and fragile egos.’ She looked pensive for a moment. ‘Maybe I should chat up the vendor of Starlight Cottage.’
‘Mr Garroway?’ I said in surprise. ‘He must be around seventy.’
‘Mm,’ she mused. ‘The older man. Never had one before. And he’s newly widowed. Ripe for consoling.’
‘Lisa,’ I tutted, shaking my head. ‘Apart from anything else, that’s a twenty-year age gap.’
In that moment, it came to me that if Robin and Sexy Samantha’s relationship endured, then one day she’d be fifty to Robin’s seventy.
‘Think how grateful Mr Garroway would be’ – Lisa interrupted my thoughts – ‘to have a younger companion in his life.’
‘I suppose,’ I said uncertainly. ‘But what about sex? I’m not sure I could do it with someone so much older than me.’ Frankly, I had no idea what Sexy Samantha saw in Robin – other than his wallet. ‘I mean, what about dentures?’ I pulled a face.
The thought of a man popping his teeth into a glass before puckering up for a kiss didn’t make my loins twang.
Lisa looked pensive for a moment.
‘I’m fairly sure Albert has his own teeth. And anyway, why do you think God invented pink rabbits?’
‘Right,’ I said faintly.
‘Meanwhile’ – Lisa shifted in her chair – ‘back to Starlight Cottage. Check the place out after work.’
‘I will,’ I assured. ‘I’ll have to go home first. Let Cindy out. In fact, she can come with me.’