Dreams to Sell (24 page)

‘It'll be your turn to talk at Duthie's,' he warned. ‘And it's coming up soon. I hope you'll like it.'

She told him she was sure she would and, it was true, she did. A comfortable Scottish restaurant without too much tartan, it wasn't a place she'd visited with Jamie, which meant she needn't be reminded of him. Needn't, but somehow was, which presented a mystery. She was long over him, so why all these memories? Perhaps because this was her first time out with another man and she was subconsciously comparing them? If that were true, she knew that the man she was with now was very different from Jamie. Thank the Lord for that!

‘This is so nice,' she told Laurence as they took their table in the restaurant amongst a number of other diners. ‘I like it very much.'

‘I'm glad. My choice, so I feel responsible. Now, what shall we have?'

For some moments they studied their menus, Roz trying not to be too worried about the prices; there would be no point in trying to choose the least expensive dishes for everything seemed to be equally dear to her eyes, and she could only hope that Laurence was not so strapped for cash as he'd indicated. Everything was relative, of course. His idea of having no money, for instance, might not be the same as hers.

‘How about salmon soufflé for the first course?' he asked, his blue eyes seeking hers over the top of his menu. ‘Or, smoked salmon pâté, perhaps?'

‘I think I'll pass on the first course. Sometimes seems too much.'

‘All right, then. How about going straight to the gigot lamb chops, with the mushroom sauce?'

‘That would be lovely.'

Having ordered the lamb and a half bottle of wine for Laurence, with a soft drink for Roz, who said she was no great wine drinker, they gazed at each other across the table, not speaking yet seeming quite at ease.

‘Remember, we said it would be your turn to talk when we were here,' Laurence said after a little while. ‘But of course you needn't, if you don't want to.'

‘Talk about myself, you mean?' Roz shrugged. ‘I don't mind.'

‘That's good, because I'm interested. I've been interested in you from that first time when we shared a table for tea.'

‘Most people would think you were more interesting.' Roz twirled the stem of her glass.

‘Most people would be wrong, then. Bellfields is interesting. I'm not.'

‘Well, maybe there's more to say about you, anyway. Not much to say about me. My dad worked for the electricity station at Portobello, until he got called up in the war. When he was killed my mother took it very badly. For a long time she was very depressed and we had to look after her – I mean, my brother and I, and my sister.'

‘I'm sorry to hear that,' Laurence said quietly. ‘It must have been hard.'

‘Yes. Well, she's much better now and has a job in a restaurant on the cash desk. My sister's a waitress and my brother's in the army.' A shadow crossed Roz's face. ‘He's in Korea now, in fact, fighting in the war.'

‘Oh, God, that's a worry!' Laurence stretched his hand across the table and touched Roz's. ‘I am sorry, Roz. We thought we'd finished with war, didn't we? And now some of our chaps are back in it. Let's hope they sort that one out soon and send our soldiers home.'

Their lamb arrived and, as they began to eat, Laurence pressed her for more details about herself. ‘I haven't heard much about you yet. How did you come to work in Tarrel's property department?'

‘I did reasonably well at school, and while it wasn't possible for me to go to university, I did a typing course and found a job. I'd always been interested in houses, so when the Tarrel job eventually came up, I applied and got it.'

‘And you've been happy there?'

‘Yes, very happy. I'm not a lawyer, though, which means I'm not likely to be able to run the department myself.'

‘Though you could,' said Laurence, drinking his wine. ‘I bet you could do it standing on your head. Why don't you move into an estate agent's office? Somewhere where you don't have to be a lawyer?'

‘In England, you mean? That's been suggested before. Perhaps I should try it.'

‘Oh, Roz, please don't! Don't go away over the border! I was a fool to mention it!'

They both laughed then and continued their meal, choosing Drambuie cream as a pudding and finishing with coffee, after which Laurence called for the bill.

‘That was truly delicious,' Roz told him when they were out in the warmth of the fine July evening. ‘Thank you very much, Laurence.'

‘My pleasure, Roz.'

‘I just feel …' She stopped and he bent to look into her face.

‘Feel what? Don't tell me, I can guess. If I've been giving you the impression that I can't afford a decent dinner, that's not true. Refurbishing Bellfields from top to bottom is one thing. Affording a dinner is quite another.' He took her arm and tucked it into his. ‘Now, it's a fine night. The car's quite close but I was thinking we could drive to the Meadows and walk a bit, couldn't we? Before I take you home?'

The Meadows. Another reminder of Jamie. His flat had been in that area.

‘Good idea,' she said swiftly. ‘Let's do that.'

Though the children had left the Meadows, there were still plenty of people about, walking, playing ball games, enjoying the summer evening. Roz and Laurence were enjoying it too.

‘The perfect end to a perfect evening,' Laurence remarked. ‘Our first time out together has been terrific – don't you think so, Roz?'

‘It's been lovely, Laurence …' She hesitated.

‘Hey!' He stopped and turned her to face him. ‘Do I detect a “but” in there somewhere?'

‘Well, you said our first time out together was terrific—'

‘So? It was, wasn't it?'

‘Yes, but I don't really think there should be any more times. Together, I mean.'

‘No more times together?' His look was baffled, almost stunned; it was clear he'd never for a moment expected her not to want to see him again. ‘Why do you say that, Roz? If you're happy being with me, why not want to see me again?'

‘It's not that I don't want to see you, Laurence. It's just that – well, for a start, you're a client. It's not really the thing, is it? For us to go out together?'

‘Oh, come on! Are you telling me anyone's going to object? Why should they?'

‘Mr Banks can be a stickler for, you know, doing the right thing.'

‘Well, we're not doing the wrong thing, in my view. I've a perfect right to ask you to dinner, and you've a perfect right to say yes. If that's all that's worrying you, we can forget it.' He gently held her shoulders, his gaze seeking hers. ‘But you said for a start, didn't you? Is there something else troubling you?'

She looked away, desperately watching some young men in the distance packing up their cricket stumps, for the fact was she didn't know what to say. How was she to put into words what the problem was? How to explain what he should be able to see for himself?

‘So, there is something else,' he said softly, releasing her. ‘Look, there's a vacant bench over there – let's sit down for a minute and knock this thing on the head once and for all.'

Sitting close on the bench, he took her hands in his. ‘I think I know what it's about, and it's to do with Bellfields, isn't it?'

‘I suppose it is.'

‘You won't go out with me because I live in a place like Bellfields, and you don't?'

‘That's a funny way of putting it.'

‘It's true, though, isn't it? The point is it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter where either of us live, or who we are, or what we do, if we're attracted to each other and want to meet. If we enjoy being together, why shouldn't we be just that?'

‘You make it sound so easy, but people don't live in a vacuum, do they?' Roz shook her head. ‘Look, I'm going to be very honest, Laurence. Going out with someone can lead to a relationship and I don't want one. I've been hurt once and I don't want to be hurt again.'

‘And you think I would hurt you? Roz, that would never happen. Trust me, it wouldn't.' He made her look at him, meet his eyes that were so sincere. ‘Please believe me.'

‘I believe you wouldn't want to, but things might be too difficult for you if we went any further.' Roz stood up, glancing at her wrist watch. ‘I think we'd better go back now, Laurence. It's getting late.'

After a long pause, he sighed and turned to go. ‘As you wish,' he said quietly and, without speaking again, they returned to the car.

It was only when they were back in Deller Street again, with welcome dusk enfolding them, that Laurence stopped the car and turned to speak to Roz.

‘I've no right to ask, but this chap who hurt you – who was he? What sort of an idiot was he?'

‘He wasn't an idiot. He did love me, but I don't want to go into it. He let me down – and someone else too. I couldn't trust him.'

‘You can always trust me.'

She smiled sadly. ‘I know you'd want to do the right thing.'

‘Well, then!' He took her hand. ‘But I hate to think of you being hurt. I know what it's like.'

‘Laurence!' She sat up straight. ‘I never thought – who could have hurt you?'

‘Oh, it was some time ago. We were almost engaged, Meriel and I – until she said I cared too much about Bellfields.'

‘Cared too much for Bellfields? I can't believe anyone could say that!'

‘Well, it didn't interest her, you see. Her family has several properties and to her they're just places to live. They're not important. So, we said goodbye.' Laurence smoothed Roz's fingers. ‘No need to worry, I've quite forgotten her now. Have you forgotten your chap?'

‘Oh, yes.' It was true, she was well over him.

‘But you haven't forgotten the pain. Roz, there won't be any with me, I promise.' He lowered his voice. ‘Look, won't you reconsider – about seeing me again? I do want so much to be with you. Ever since we met in that café in Kirkcudbright, I've hardly stopped thinking of you. I kept wondering how I could see you at Tarrel's, and then it came to me – you worked in property, so when I put Bellfields on the market, which I knew I had to do, I guessed you'd come to the house, which, thank God, you did.'

He let go of her hands and drew her towards him, holding her lightly, then releasing her again.

‘It seemed like the answer to a prayer. We could meet naturally, I could ask you to see me, it was exactly what I wanted – what we both wanted, I believed. You can't really mean I was wrong, can you? You can't say you don't want to see me again? Not now we've found each other?'

It was beginning to seem to her more and more like one of her dreams, that this man, the owner of a dream house like Bellfields, had somehow become dependent on her – had, you might say, put himself in her power, which was not something she could ever have expected, or even wanted. How had they reached this stage so soon? Was he really in love with her? She couldn't help feeling touched by his words, by the depth of the feeling he'd expressed for her when they'd only just met, when he didn't even really know her.

Perhaps he didn't need to know her? Had she really known Jamie when she'd found herself so drawn to him? Events had proved that she hadn't known him at all, yet the strange thing was that though she didn't really know Laurence, she really felt that she could trust him. He'd said she could, and she believed him. And if, as yet, her own feelings might not match his, they might – probably would, in fact – if she gave into them. And for now? She felt herself weakening, all the resolve she'd thought she had drifting away on a cloud of longing to please him, to make him happy – herself too.

‘Don't turn me down,' he was saying, his face close to hers. ‘Don't end things for us before they've even begun …'

‘I don't want to,' she whispered. ‘I don't, it's just …'

‘Just nothing!' he cried, taking her into his arms. ‘Roz, be happy! Let's both be happy! Let's take what comes – why not? Is it dark enough for me to kiss you? Are you afraid people might see?'

‘No, no!' She was still up on her cloud as their mouths met, and for long moments they clung together before finally drawing apart and facing each other with shining eyes.

‘I'll ring you,' Laurence said. ‘Soon. Very soon.'

‘I'll be waiting.'

‘I was thinking we might go to a play. There's a good one at the King's. You'd like that?'

‘I would.'

They were silent for some time, until Laurence leaped out and opened the car door for her. As she stepped out, he put his hand on her arm.

‘Roz, thank you.'

‘Thank you, for a lovely evening.'

‘Was it this evening we had dinner? Seems a long time ago.'

They laughed, and finally, reluctantly, parted – Roz to go to her door, Laurence to watch as she stood and waved, before taking his seat in the car again and with a last lift of his hand, drove away.

‘You're back, then?' cried Flo, when Roz appeared in the living room. ‘I was just going to bed. You're even later than Chrissie.'

‘Sorry. We went for a walk in the Meadows after dinner.'

‘Nice meal?' asked Chrissie. ‘Which restaurant was it?'

‘Duthie's, off Forrest Row.'

‘Oh, pricey! Top quality Scottish, eh?'

‘It was certainly very good.'

‘Glad to hear it,' said Flo. ‘Seeing as it was a once-only thing.'

There was a silence as Flo's pale eyes went over Roz's face and Chrissie gave a knowing smile.

‘Was it?' Chrissie asked.

‘No,' Roz answered, looking bravely from her sister to her mother. ‘No, it wasn't.'