Chapter 2
Although preparing to go to Willow House to ‘find herself’ was going to take a little time, getting her remaining clients to work with Rufus wasn’t as difficult as Maeve had imagined.
They were all delighted to have him. With his flashy good looks and impeccable manners, even Ava had to admit he was a welcome addition to the firm.
Maeve found herself beginning to wonder whether he’d take over while she was away.
But by this stage she was so tired, she didn’t care.
It was a relief to take a little time to herself, to get her tiny flat tidied up and her clothes sorted.
Rufus’s partner managed to squeeze her in the next day at the fashionable salon where she worked, and this was one of the high points of Maeve’s week.
The curvy blonde – aptly named Barbie – cut Maeve’s hair into a lovely shoulder-length bob and gave her a fancy conditioning treatment.
Maeve gazed at her reflection in the mirror and smiled.
Her shiny auburn hair now softened her square jaw and gave her green eyes a sparkle she hadn’t seen for a long time.
The new hairdo did wonders for Maeve’s mood and gave her a new pep in her step. It also made her favourite Holland Street client, a tall, silver-haired man, smile at her with a twinkle in his eyes.
‘You’re looking very fetching, if I may be so bold,’ he said, as she stepped into the still-unfurnished hall.
She smiled back at him. ‘Thank you, Mr Taylor. I had my hair cut.’
‘Very nice.’ He led the way into the living room, which had been painted the green called ‘Arsenic’ in the fancy Farrow & Ball range.
The few pieces of antique furniture were swathed in dust covers and the paintings were stacked against the far wall.
The bare sash windows overlooked a tiny but well-tended garden, and the traffic of the city was only a distant murmur.
‘As you can see, they’ve finished painting.
But I’m afraid we’ll have to cover it up with wallpaper.
My fiancée has changed her mind. So if you’ve brought some samples, we could take a look and see if you have what she wants… ’
Maeve had only met Belinda once, but knew that it was typical of her to constantly change her mind.
She’d get an idea from a celebrity home she had spotted in Hello!
magazine and then want the same thing, until she saw something else.
Then she would phone Maeve and announce in her affected baby voice that this was the ‘in’ look and she wanted it, like, yesterday.
She was at least thirty years younger than her future husband and very determined to get her hands on his money once they were married.
What a relief that she was so busy with her wedding plans and had let her charming fiancé take over.
Maeve smiled at him and placed the big canvas bag on a small table by the window. ‘I did bring some wallpaper books and fabric samples, just in case.’
‘Ah, good. My son’s coming a little later to help out. I have a feeling he wanted to stick with the green, though. But Belinda…’
‘Maybe I should talk to her directly?’ Maeve suggested.
Mr Taylor smiled and shrugged. ‘Not possible, I’m afraid. She’s at a yoga retreat in India and will be back tomorrow. But then she’ll need at least a week to rest, or so she told me when I spoke to her yesterday.’
Maeve sighed theatrically. ‘I know. Yoga can be so draining, with all that stretching and chanting and breathing through your nose. I tried it once. The corpse pose was my favourite.’
Mr Taylor laughed. ‘Not my kind of thing, I have to confess. But she says it makes her chakra stronger.’
‘Oh, the chakra.’ Maeve nodded, even though she hadn’t a clue what it was. ‘It’s good she gets that one looked after. But maybe you should put things on hold until she comes back and is ready to tackle things again?’
‘Not a good idea, as we have booked the workmen and they have a tight schedule. And Belinda wants to get it all started and on the way. We’re getting married in two months, so…’ He brightened as there was a sound from the hall. ‘Ah, that must be Stephen now.’
The parquet floor creaked as a man walked into the room.
Momentarily dazzled by a shaft of sunlight, Maeve couldn’t see him clearly at first. Then he stepped a little further towards her, out of the light.
As tall as his father, with the same bright blue eyes, he had gleaming blond hair and a smile so dazzling Maeve couldn’t help smiling back.
Dressed in a grey suit that shouted Savile Row and a light blue button-down shirt, he exuded confidence and wealth.
He held out his hand. ‘Hello. I’m Stephen Taylor. And you’re the lovely Mary, I take it?’
‘Well… No, my name’s Maeve,’ she mumbled, slightly flustered by his deep voice and broad smile. She pulled herself together and shook his hand. ‘Hello. Nice to meet you.’
‘It certainly is,’ Stephen said, holding her hand a little longer than absolutely necessary. ‘Sorry about the name. Maeve, of course.’ He looked around the room. ‘So where were you when I came in?’
‘We’re debating about wallpaper,’ his father said.
Stephen looked at the walls. ‘What’s to debate? This is the right colour and wallpaper would be wrong. In any case, the place will be plastered with paintings, so whatever is underneath is of little importance.’
Mr Taylor Senior winked at Maeve. ‘What did I tell you?’ He looked at Stephen. ‘I’m afraid Belinda has changed her mind. She wants wallpaper. The William Morris one called—’ he thought for a while ‘—Strawberry Thief? In blue. With matching curtains.’
‘Oh, yes.’ Maeve rummaged in her bag and brought out a folder. ‘I have it here. Quite right for the period, but perhaps a little busy with matching curtains and all those paintings you’re going to hang…’
Stephen Taylor glanced at the pattern in the book Maeve had opened. ‘Nice. But too much. This room will be a total nightmare with all the patterns.’ He shrugged. ‘But Belinda rules, right, Father?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ Mr Taylor Senior said ruefully.
Stephen consulted his watch. ‘What’s next? I’m meeting Zoe in Sloane Square in half an hour. Not sure what I’m doing here at all, to be honest, as good old Belinda seems to decide everything all the way from India.’
‘Just the rest of downstairs to do for now. The kitchen and what will be the dining room,’ Maeve replied. ‘That’s as far as we’ve got. The study and bedrooms upstairs are fine for the moment, your father said.’
‘Yes,’ Mr Taylor Senior agreed. ‘That can wait until she comes back and then we’ll have another blast.’ He laughed.
‘I haven’t really a clue about bedrooms and bathrooms and such.
She’s putting in a four poster and we’re looking at Jacuzzis.
And we’re knocking out a wall to make an en-suite and a walk-in closet, that’s all I know. ’
‘Sounds enchanting,’ Stephen said in voice that was dripping with sarcasm. ‘Let’s have a look at the rest, then.’
They continued down the corridor to the bright, sunny kitchen, where the original cupboards and marble counter tops would soon be replaced by new units.
Maeve looked around with a feeling of regret.
Such a pity to rip out the solid oak cupboards when they could have been painted and lovingly restored instead of being replaced by something soulless and modern.
‘Vandalism,’ Stephen exclaimed, as he looked at the plans. ‘And she wants a bloody island? Whatever for? She can’t cook, for God’s sake!’ He shot a puzzled look at Maeve. ‘You agreed to all of this? Turning an architectural gem into something from a trashy magazine?’
Maeve sighed. ‘You’re right. It’s a great pity. I said so to your father a few weeks ago. But the clients have the last say.’ She glanced at the older man. ‘I’m afraid I agree with your son, Mr Taylor. But in the end, I’ll do what you want, of course.’
Taylor sighed and shrugged. ‘Belinda is going to cordon bleu cooking classes. Then we’ll have dinner parties here, in what will be the kitchen-diner when the walls are knocked out.
She thinks it’ll be great fun.’ He paused as he looked at his son.
‘I’m looking forward to that. Dinner parties with Belinda cooking – and maybe even burning – the dinner!
It’ll be a laugh. She’s a real tonic and has truly brightened up my life. ’
‘And she has been spending your money like water.’
Mr Taylor Senior shrugged again. ‘So what? It’s only money.
Belinda loves being pampered and I love making her happy.
So there might not be much left by the time I pop off, but in the meantime, I’m having a ball, as the kids say.
If Belinda wants to turn this house into an amusement park, I’m going to let her.
So you can wipe that sour look off your face, Stephen. ’
‘She’ll be the death of you, Dad.’
Mr Taylor winked. ‘Then I’ll die happy. Please stop worrying. I’m having more fun than you are. Maybe that’s your problem?’
Maeve stepped away, pretending to check her messages on her phone. The conversation between father and son was turning a little too personal for her taste.
‘Oh, whatever,’ Stephen muttered. ‘It’s your life. I have to go. Thanks for coming, Maeve.’ He touched his father’s shoulder. ‘Sorry about the sour face. Things are a little tricky right now with the divorce and custody problems. We’ll have dinner before Belinda comes back, okay?’
Mr Taylor nodded. ‘Okay, Stephen. Say hello to Zoe.’
He looked at Maeve with a touch of embarrassment when his son had left. ‘Sorry about that. Stephen has a bit of a temper, I’m afraid.’
‘He doesn’t get on with Belinda?’ Maeve asked.
‘That’s putting it mildly.’
‘Must be hard.’
‘Not really. I ignore his bad temper and do my own thing. He has a lot of problems at the moment.’
‘Oh? That’s a pity.’ Maeve took out her phone. ‘So, let’s just go through this, shall we?’