Dreams to Sell (25 page)

‘I knew it!' cried Flo. ‘I knew you'd never say no!'

‘I'm keeping my eyes wide open,' said Roz. ‘I'll be all right, Ma, I promise. Now don't be down-hearted, I mean it.'

‘After all you said! It's just friendly, nothing romantic, it's not going to lead to anything, just this once – why did I listen to you?'

‘Ma, just believe me. I trust Laurence, I'm going to be all right.'

‘Oh, dear,' sighed Flo. ‘Oh, dear, oh dear.'

‘Don't be down about it, Ma. Promise me! Think of me being happy, eh?'

‘If only I could. Chrissie, give me a hand to bed, will you?'

‘Yes, Ma.' Chrissie, catching Roz's eye with a sympathetic glance, went with her mother from the room, leaving Roz to sigh as deeply as Flo before a smile curved her lips and she sat on, lost in remembering. She should have felt bad, giving in as she had, but in fact she felt good. ‘Be happy,' Laurence had said. ‘Let's take what comes – why not?' Why not, indeed? OK, she'd said she didn't want to risk being hurt again, but she'd changed her mind. Now she was prepared to take any risk there might be, and if the worst happened, it happened. But there'd be no regrets. That was a promise she'd make to herself. No regrets.

Everyone agreed that Tarrel's Bellfields brochure, produced by Angus Appin and Reggie MacEwan, was a great success – a triumph, no less, with much interest being shown by prospective buyers who'd received it after following up advertisements. There'd even been enquiries from over the border, and as the requests for viewing came flooding in Mr Banks expressed himself well pleased, which, if it didn't surprise Reggie, smoothed the worried frown from Angus's brow. The only person who didn't seem happy was the owner, whose spirits grew ever lower the more likely it seemed that there might soon be a sale.

‘Laurence, I know you don't want to sell,' Roz told him over one of their frequent dinners, ‘but if it has to happen, at least you should get a good price. I mean, Angus and Reggie did such a wonderful job – a lot of people have been attracted and that's sure to bring in the offers.'

‘Oh, I know,' he said, drinking wine despondently. ‘I know I should be grateful to the chaps. Reggie's photographs were amazing – how he managed to make everything look so perfect, I can't think. And Mr Appin's write-up was excellent. Even got in a bit about my family history, did you notice?'

‘Certainly did. I was really interested.'

Roz paused to reflect on what she'd learned about those early Carmichaels, wealthy Edinburgh merchants who'd built a fine country house on the site of the present Bellfields, only to see it burn down and require re-building in the eighteenth century – this at the same time as they'd lost most of their money in the South Sea Bubble trading disaster. They hadn't given in, though – they'd held on to the new house and handed it down to their descendants, even if with little capital, who in turn had kept it going until Laurence had made the decision to sell.

‘I don't like talking about my family much,' he told Roz. ‘It brings it home to me that I'm the one who's let them down. There never was much money around – I think you know that the land had to be sold, which meant that there were no rents coming in, but everyone before me kept Bellfields afloat. Now it's going and I'm responsible. Don't expect me to be happy about it.'

‘You have to remember that you had no choice!' cried Roz. ‘Things aren't the same for you as for your ancestors. You need staff to maintain Bellfields and in the old days workers were cheap. Now – and I'm glad of it – they expect better, which means it's just too much for you to hang on any longer.'

She covered his hand with hers and held his eyes with her own direct gaze. ‘Don't blame yourself, Laurence. You've done all you could. Try to think of that.'

His look still moody, he shook his head. ‘I bet if the house had been yours, you'd never have given it up, would you? You're a fighter, aren't you? You'd have kept it even if you were living on beans on toast and doing all the work yourself. Come on, admit it!'

‘How can I say what I would have done? Maybe, like you, I'd have had to sell in the end.' Roz lowered her eyes. ‘But it would have broken my heart.'

‘Now you know how I feel, Roz.'

‘Laurence, I've always known how you feel. About Bellfields, anyway.'

The wonderful thing was that they were so happy together. In the long days of August, when possible buyers were still going round Bellfields, they met often, for meals, for theatre visits, shows at the festival, or long walks on Sundays, always ready to kiss and caress when they could, longing sometimes to progress but never quite going so far. Even in the privacy of Bellfields, where Laurence liked Roz to come, they kept on the safe side of passion – especially as Roz was always nervous when visiting the house privately, conscious that the housekeeper, Mrs Meldrum, didn't approve, though showing it, of course, only by her manner and never by words.

Why should I care? Roz asked herself. No reason, of course, but she did care. Not that there was anything she could do about it, any more than she could persuade her mother to meet Laurence, either in her home or anywhere else.

‘No, I'll wait till I'm feeling happier,' Flo told Roz. ‘Till I believe you're going to be all right with this grand fellow. Time enough to meet him then.'

‘Ma, I tell you I am all right!' Roz would cry, but Flo would only set her mouth and look away, and Roz knew it was useless to say any more.

‘She's got a lot on her plate,' Chrissie told her. ‘Worrying about Dougal, eh? Seems so long since we saw him. He does get leave now and then but only over there.'

‘I know, and of course in his letters he makes out he's fine, but who knows?' Roz sighed heavily. ‘You're right, I shouldn't try to pressure Ma into anything, just in case.'

‘She's been OK lately. Maybe she's getting better?'

‘Maybe. And maybe not.'

Meanwhile, it gradually became apparent that the supply of prospective buyers was drying up, and that of all those who had so far been shown round Bellfields by Angus or Roz, not one had even expressed interest to a lawyer, never mind making a genuine offer.

‘I don't understand it,' Angus said worriedly to Roz. ‘I know some will have been put off by what's to be done, but you'd have thought that out of all the droves we took round Bellfields somebody would have wanted it!'

‘It's disappointing,' Roz agreed. ‘Though Laurence isn't too worried.'

‘You'd know, of course,' Angus said, giving her a shrewd look.

He was one of two people at Tarrel's who'd been told by Roz that she was going out with Laurence, the other being Norma. Best to put them in the picture from the beginning, Roz had decided, for in some ways it would be easier not to hide things from the two who knew her best, and both could be trusted not to say anything to Mr Banks. Really, she would have preferred to have no secrets at all after her early experiences with Jamie, but it might be better if Mr Banks didn't know just yet of her relationship with a client.

Norma, so much wrapped up in her own love life, had opened her eyes wide at Roz's surprising news, but had commented very little, and Angus had simply told her that it was her business and hers alone. He couldn't see any harm, if she was happy about it.

‘Of course I'm happy!' Roz had cried, and he'd nodded and said no more.

Now, when she smiled but said nothing about Laurence, Angus remarked, as he'd done before, that Laurence Carmichael was one of the strangest clients he'd ever known. What seller didn't want any buyers?

‘One who wants to keep his house for himself,' Roz told him.

At last, on a golden day in September, things began to look a little more hopeful when a Mr and Mrs Elphick, who'd made an appointment for a viewing, arrived at Tarrel's and appeared very excited about Bellfields. They were from Perth, looking for a property near Edinburgh to convert into a hotel, this being their way of investing a recent inheritance, and from the brochure which they'd only just read Bellfields seemed to fit the bill. Now they were to be taken by Roz to see it and couldn't be more keen.

Fingers crossed, her eyes had said to Angus as she escorted the middle-aged, smartly dressed couple to the car, and fingers crossed was his unspoken reply as she drove away. They had a splendid afternoon for viewing, that was true, just as long as the sunshine didn't show up all the defects, of course. But one must look on the bright side, Angus decided – Roz was now so expert at showing buyers round, she knew exactly how to present the house to its best advantage.

‘Lovely country,' Mrs Elphick remarked. ‘And so close to Edinburgh, it would be a perfect location.'

‘I agree,' said her husband. ‘Miss Rainey, we have great hopes of this place, I can assure you.'

‘You won't be disappointed,' she told them, her heart lifting as it always did as they neared Bellfields and turned into the drive. Would Laurence be waiting for them at the entrance? she wondered, and when he wasn't, rang the doorbell for Mrs Meldrum while the Elphicks looked around with every appearance of pleasure.

When the housekeeper answered the bell, Roz smiled and introduced her prospective buyers, asking if Mr Carmichael was at home.

‘He is, Miss Rainey, but he has visitors,' Mrs Meldrum answered coldly. ‘Please come in. I'll tell him you're here.'

‘Splendid hall,' Mr Elphick was whispering, looking up from his brochure.

‘Perfect as a Reception!' his wife murmured.

‘Here is Mr Carmichael,' Roz said happily as Laurence appeared, his eyes quickly going to her before he shook hands with the Elphicks and welcomed them to his house, assuring them that Miss Rainey would tell them all they needed to know. Now, if they would excuse him …

He turned to Roz. ‘Miss Rainey, if I'm needed, I'll be on the terrace with my visitors.'

‘Thank you, Mr Carmichael,' she said, wondering who his visitors might be. His accountants, maybe – they did come to see him from time to time.

The day had been going so well, Roz had no great worries about showing the Elphicks the house. After all, they'd liked everything they'd seen so far, and if they liked the main reception rooms and could face any sinking cornices, there'd only be the top floor to navigate and then they'd be home and dry. True, many others had fallen at that hurdle, but Roz remained more confident over this viewing than any other so far, and even if Laurence would be downcast if he really had an offer to accept, he knew it was what he had to do. What choice did he have?

All continued to go well as the Elphicks were shown the magnificent drawing and dining rooms, the morning room, the library and the grand staircase, and expressed themselves delighted with everything. As Mr Elphick explained, they were not interested in superficial decoration, only in the size and proportion of the rooms and how well they would respond to the changes required. And though their eyes went over the cornices in the morning room, they didn't actually mention them. Could it be that in these two Tarrel's had found buyers who wanted a house, come what may? Were they the sort of buyers every estate agent dreamed about?

‘I really do like this house,' Mrs Elphick was murmuring. ‘I feel it's right for us – such a lovely atmosphere.'

‘So glad you think so,' said Roz. ‘Should we go upstairs?'

After the Elphicks had admired the principal bedrooms, she told them there were also a number of guest rooms, as they'd have seen from the brochure. Though there was work to be done on these, there was no doubt that the whole place could easily be transformed.

‘Lead on, Miss Rainey!' Mr Elphick cried, laughing, his wife joining in, and Roz, after showing them the guest bedrooms, was beginning to think they were, yes, home and dry – until they reached the top floor and no one was laughing any more.

It was unfortunate that the strong afternoon sunshine had reached the stage of shining directly in through the windows, lighting up in cruel detail all its damp misery of unsafe floorboards, peeling wall paper and general neglect, so that it looked worse than Roz had ever seen it.

For heaven's sake, she thought, why hadn't Laurence done something to make this top floor look even a little better when he'd embarked on his tidying up programme? Just because the maids who'd slept there had been long gone and no one else had used it for years, did he have to ignore it? Even the Elphicks must be dismayed, yet if they really liked Bellfields, they'd be able to look ahead and see how this part could be changed, wouldn't they? But they were both suddenly very quiet.

‘There's a lot to do,' Roz remarked with an effort at cheerfulness. ‘But of course it would be worth it.'

‘A lot to do,' Mrs Elphick said, shivering. ‘My heart fails me to think of it.'

‘And coupled with the work needed on those cornices we saw downstairs, God knows how much it would all cost,' her husband said flatly. ‘What on earth would a structural engineer make of this place?'

‘But if it ended up as the place you wanted, as I say, it would be worth it, wouldn't it?' asked Roz eagerly, but Mrs Elphick was shaking her head.

‘I don't know – there's something upsetting to me, seeing a place like this. Were the maids up here? Was this where they slept? I hate to think of their lives, you know. All those poor girls …'

‘I do, too, but it wouldn't have looked like this when they were here, Mrs Elphick. It would look completely different with just a coat of paint.'

‘Not like those cornices, then,' Mr Elphick declared loudly. ‘Shall we go down, Miss Rainey? I think we've seen all we want to see now.'

‘These rooms could very easily be transformed,' Roz said quickly. ‘Don't let them put you off if the rest of the house is what you want.'