A Desirable Residence (33 page)

‘Did you enjoy the rest of the party?’ he said, in a low but friendly voice. ‘You’ve just missed Alice. She was a bit tired, I think.’ Liz stared at him as though in a stupor. Was he suddenly very stupid? Was he playing games with her?

‘I suppose Alice told you everything,’ she said, in a voice roughened by worry. Jonathan clutched the mug more tightly, but his expression didn’t change.

‘Alice told me nothing,’ he said evenly. ‘I don’t think there was anything to tell.’ He smiled. ‘Now sit down, and I’ll make you a nice mug of tea. With sugar.’

Two weeks later, Jonathan sat in Marcus’s office and looked at him with a clear, enquiring gaze. Marcus met his eyes, coloured slightly, and looked away.

‘It’s very good of you to come in,’ he said. ‘Especially on a Saturday. I can appreciate how busy you must be.’ He paused, and his eyes fell on the local paper, open on his desk for reference at the display property advertisements. ‘Did you see the piece in here about the scholarship?’ he asked, picking it up and turning to an inside news page. ‘Quite a nice item, I thought. Anthea’s idea,’ he added.

They both looked at the grainy photograph of a grimly smiling Daniel; at the headline local prodigy wins top award. ‘I don’t think Daniel was too wild about it,’ continued Marcus. ‘But I hope it’s been some good publicity for the tutorial college.’

‘It has, as a matter of fact,’ said Jonathan, giving a small smile. ‘I had no idea there were so many children taking Common Entrance in Silchester who needed coaching.’ He looked at his watch. ‘In fact, I’ve got a class a bit later on. We’re fitting them in at all times.’

‘Oh, right you are,’ said Marcus, abruptly closing the paper. ‘I’ve got to shoot off myself, actually. But this won’t take long. I just wanted to tell you, first of all, that Ginny and Piers Prentice have given notice on the house in Russell Street.’

‘Oh dear,’ said Jonathan, his face falling. ‘That didn’t last long.’

‘Yes,’ said Marcus, frowning. ‘I’m not sure what the reason is. They’ve already left, with quite a lot of their stuff, and they’re having the rest sent on. Some friend of theirs is sorting everything out. They’ll pay the rent due in full,’ he added hastily. ‘But to all intents and purposes, the property is now vacant.’

‘What a shame,’ said Jonathan. ‘I had gathered from my daughter that they’d left Silchester for the moment. She was rather upset when she found out that they’d gone.’ His brow wrinkled. ‘But I didn’t realize it was for good.’ He looked up anxiously at Marcus. ‘We really needed the income from their rent, you know. How long do you think it’ll be before you find another tenant?’

‘Well, there may be no need for that,’ said Marcus breezily. ‘As it turns out, it’s not such bad news for you after all.’ He paused, and studied his fingernails for a few seconds. When he looked up, his face was blank. ‘I believe,’ he said slowly, ‘that I may have found a buyer for your house.’

‘What? Really?’ Jonathan looked at Marcus in amazement. ‘I’d almost given up on that front.’

‘The buyer,’ said Marcus steadily, ‘is a foreign purchaser who wishes to make an investment in the Silchester area. I have advised him to make an offer of two hundred thousand pounds for the property.’ There was a short silence. He looked up. Jonathan was gaping at him in astounded disbelief.

‘I should add that the buyer wishes to remain anonymous,’ added Marcus quickly. ‘So all the dealing would be done with myself. If you were to find the offer satisfactory.’ Jonathan recovered himself.

‘Find the offer satisfactory?’ he said, in an incredulous voice. ‘My God, it would solve everything.’

‘Good,’ said Marcus in neutral tones, needlessly rearranging the pile of property details on his desk. ‘So I can take it that you accept?’ He glanced up. Jonathan still looked stunned. Unsuspicious, but stunned.

Marcus thought rapidly, then said lightly, ‘It’s been a very fortunate turn of events for a number of vendors in your position.’ He smiled at Jonathan. ‘This particular buyer is planning a number of purchases in the area. He wishes to take advantage of current depressed prices.’

‘I wouldn’t call two hundred thousand pounds a depressed price for our house!’ said Jonathan. His eyes were faintly shining.

‘Relatively speaking,’ said Marcus smoothly. ‘I take it the sale will help you out financially?’ he added, in unconcerned, polite tones.

‘I’ll say,’ said Jonathan. ‘You may not realize it, but the tutorial college is mortgaged up to the hilt.’

‘Really?’ said Marcus. ‘Well, then, this is good news.’ He beamed at Jonathan.

‘It certainly is,’ said Jonathan in heartfelt tones. ‘How can I begin to thank you? We thought we’d never sell the place.’ Marcus waved a self-deprecating hand.

‘Just our job,’ he said, in professional tones. ‘There is one other thing,’ he added lightly. ‘It may not be of interest to you.’

‘Oh yes?’

‘The purchaser,’ said Marcus carefully, ‘has expressed a willingness to let the house out. At very reasonable terms, if he can find the right tenants.’ He paused. ‘Before advertising it, I thought I would give you first refusal.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know if you’re interested in the idea. Perhaps you’d prefer to stay where you are.’

‘I don’t know about “prefer to”,’ said Jonathan, giving him a rueful grin. ‘Try “have to”. Until the business is really off the ground—’

‘You may find that the rent is sufficiently low for you to consider it,’ said Marcus. ‘The buyer has expressly said that he values quality of tenant over rental income. He is, after all, purchasing the property primarily for capital gain.’

‘Goodness,’ said Jonathan. ‘Well, I don’t know. I mean, what sort of sums are we talking? Per month?’

Marcus got up from his chair. He wandered over to the window, and stared out at the courtyard for a few seconds. A lone daffodil stared bravely back at him. Then he turned round, and named a sum.

For a moment, he thought he’d got it hopelessly, disastrously wrong. Then Jonathan’s brow cleared.

‘Well, I’m not sure,’ he said. ‘But I think we might be able to manage that.’

‘The buyer is open to negotiations,’ said Marcus hastily. ‘If necessary.’

‘I don’t think they will be necessary,’ said Jonathan. He beamed at Marcus, and Marcus, after a moment, smiled back. ‘I’m going to have to talk about this with my wife, of course,’ Jonathan added.

‘Of course,’ said Marcus sagely. ‘She might, perhaps, prefer to stay where you are?’ he risked. Jonathan gave him a rather strange look.

‘I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘But I’d better talk to her, anyway.’

Liz felt grey. Grey in body and grey in soul. Outside, a pale spring sunlight served not to cheer her spirits, but simply to thrust her melancholy into sharp relief. She sat gloomily in one of the classrooms, trying yet again to drum up some inspiration for the modern languages department, shrinking into her chair as she heard tutors and stray pupils passing cheerfully by the door; wincing as the sound of Alice’s pop music penetrated the walls with its dull thudding.

It had taken Alice a mere week to recover her spirits. For seven days she had refused to eat, refused to look Liz in the eye, burst into tears at the slightest provocation, and sat most of the time, holed up in her room, wrapped in her duvet, listening to music which seemed to get louder and louder and gloomier and gloomier by the day. It had taken all Liz’s self-control not to go in there and pick a fight. But the knowledge that a row would probably only augment the problem, allied with an inarticulated fear of what secrets Alice might choose to divulge, had kept her from saying anything. And, in part, she had sympathized with Alice’s blatant, public display of woe. Her own dull misery was something to be hidden, fought and, if possible, one day overcome.

Which was why she was so outraged to hear Alice now, giggling and shrieking behind her closed door, as though nothing had happened. A pang of envy filled Liz as she imagined the hilarious scenes in that little room; the jokes; the stories; the inexhaustible capacity for giggling. Alice and Genevieve, back together again.

The arrival of Genevieve for a month’s home leave had taken them all by surprise. Her manically giggling phone call from Heathrow had turned Alice’s black scowl into a cautious smile; within half an hour of hearing Genevieve’s voice she was grinning again. Now she bubbled over with excitement every day. Liz marvelled at her rubber-like resilience. And, at the same time, resented her for it. Now she was alone in her apathetic misery.

The classroom door suddenly opened, and Genevieve’s face appeared around it. It still managed to take Liz slightly by surprise. Genevieve was now deeply tanned and a good half-stone lighter than before going away, and her face was decorated with a newly acquired nose-ring.

‘Mrs Chambers?’ she said. Her voice had acquired a slight American twang which Liz found alternately charming and trying. ‘Is it OK if we make peanut butter?’ Liz looked at her blankly. What for? she wanted to ask, but instead, she nodded.

‘I don’t see why not.’

‘Cool.’ Genevieve’s head disappeared.

‘Don’t make too much mess,’ added Liz automatically. But it was too late. She thought about going after Genevieve and saying it again. Then she decided that she simply couldn’t be bothered to.

As Jonathan walked with Marcus into the foyer of Witherstone’s he saw Anthea and the two boys sitting in the waiting area.

‘Mr Chambers!’ Anthea rose and charmingly took both hands in hers. ‘Did you see the piece in the paper?’

‘Yes,’ smiled Jonathan.

‘I showed it to him,’ said Marcus.

‘We’re still so thrilled about it all!’ continued Anthea. Daniel was trying to catch Jonathan’s eye.

‘Do you think,’ he said, ‘that the article in the paper will get you more pupils at the tutorial college?’

‘I should think so,’ said Jonathan. Daniel immediately looked at Andrew, as though to say,
You see
. . .

‘You still looked like a nerd,’ said Andrew placidly to Daniel. Jonathan’s mouth twitched, and he looked at his watch.

‘I’ve got to dash,’ he said apologetically.

‘Of course,’ said Marcus. ‘Well, just let me know about the house. No hurry,’ he added. ‘No hurry at all.’

When Jonathan arrived back from Witherstone’s, Liz was standing in the kitchen of the flat, disconsolately stirring a mug of coffee. Alice and Genevieve were pouring peanuts into the weighing dish of the scales, giggling helplessly as they bounced off the plastic, onto the counter and onto the floor.

‘Not enough,’ announced Genevieve. ‘Let’s go and buy some more.’

‘OK!’ said Alice. She looked up at Jonathan with bright eyes. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked utterly happy.

‘Before you go, let me tell you the good news,’ said Jonathan. ‘We’ve had an offer on the house in Russell Street.’

‘Oh, right,’ said Alice, picking a peanut off the floor and nibbling at it.

‘Cool,’ said Genevieve politely. Liz said nothing. She felt as though their life had been taken out of her control.

‘And there’s a possibility,’ said Jonathan, ‘that we may be able to rent it back off the new owners.’

‘Wow!’ said Alice. ‘Like, live there again?’

‘Yes.’

‘Excellent!’

‘I think that’s really good,’ said Genevieve surprisingly. ‘I mean, this flat’s really nice, and everything,’ she looked around kindly, ‘but your old house was better.’

‘Thank you for that insight, Genevieve,’ said Jonathan, his eyes crinkling humorously. He tried to catch Liz’s eye, but she was staring blankly ahead.

‘That’s OK,’ said Genevieve equably. ‘C’mon, Alice.’

When they had gone, Jonathan looked at Liz.

‘You haven’t said anything,’ he said. ‘Aren’t you pleased?’ Liz shrugged despairingly.

‘I don’t know. I mean, moving back to our old house. Isn’t it a bit of a backwards step? Will we really be happy there?’

‘No, it’s not a backwards step,’ said Jonathan. ‘And yes, we will be happy there.’ He regarded her plainly. ‘We will move back there and we will be happy.’

‘Is that an order?’

‘If you like.’ Liz gave a resentful, heaving sigh.

‘I can’t just start being happy. Just because you want me to.’

‘You could,’ said Jonathan, ‘if you really wanted to.’ Liz gave him a baleful look.

‘I could
pretend
to be happy, if you like,’ she said in sarcastic tones. ‘If that would help.’

‘Yes, actually it would,’ said Jonathan. ‘It would help a lot. Why don’t you start straight away?’ And he picked up a peanut, popped it in his mouth, and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Liz staring after him in nonplussed silence.