A Perfect Proposal (29 page)

‘Oh, Uncle! If I ring it’ll take me half an hour to explain who I am! They send you Christmas cards! They obviously love you dearly!’

‘After my money, probably.’

‘I don’t think you’ve even got any money but you will have if we pull off this thing, won’t we?’

‘He will,’ said Luke. ‘We’d have to find someone interested in leasing the rights, of course, but there will be someone.’

‘Oh all right, I’ll telephone, but I’m only doing it for you, Sophie, because you’re a good girl.’

Uncle Eric wanted to wait until after six, when calls were cheaper, but they persuaded him that wasn’t worth the saving. Sophie would have offered the use of her mobile but she was running low on credit. Luke had to have some way for people to contact him and hers was the only number anyone knew.

‘Hello?’ Uncle Eric shouted. ‘Is that m’cousin Mattingly’s widow?’

Sophie cringed, wishing she’d made it easier for him by writing down the name of the person he was calling. She should have remembered how bad he was with names.

‘Eric here. Listen, I’ve got a young great-niece, name of Sophie, wants to come and visit you about some drilling rights. Would that be convenient?’

There was a long pause while ‘Mattingly’s widow’ worked out who was calling her and then asked, presumably politely, what on earth her late husband’s cousin was talking about.

‘Can’t be bothered to explain,’ said Uncle Eric, ‘but young Sophie will come and visit you. She’s got a young man with her. A Yank, but decent enough. Goodbye!’

‘Well, that’s ensured us a warm welcome,’ said Sophie, dryly. ‘I’d better write down her details.’

‘I really need to catch up on my emails,’ said Luke the next morning. ‘And see how Ali is getting on sorting out my cards and my cell – phone,’ he added. ‘I may need to go back to London right away if I can’t get some money soon. I don’t like sponging off you.’

Sophie smiled at him. ‘I don’t mind, really! But I need to get an internet connection too. I’d like to see if there have been any replies to my ads. If we do go to Cornwall to find “Mattingly’s widow”, we should find that out first.’

‘I have at least a week before I need to be in London if I’m not needed there to get my affairs in order. Much as I love my grandmother, I can’t just go to Cornwall on a whim – I need some evidence that this house is still standing.’

Sophie, who would quite happily have gone to Cornwall on a whim, said, ‘OK, we need to find a computer. We’ll try the library. I know where it is. I just don’t know the opening hours.’

Sadly for them, Tuesday morning was not one of the ones the library was open. It would be open in the afternoon but neither Luke nor Sophie wanted to stay with Uncle Eric too much longer, and so didn’t want to wait.

‘There must be an internet café or something,’ said Luke.

‘Or a café with Wi-Fi.’ Sophie felt this was slightly more likely in the town where Uncle Eric lived. ‘There’s a nice little place down here that might help us out,’ she said. ‘Uncle Eric and I had a snack here when I took him shopping once.’

There was a card in the window that declared it now had Wi-Fi and to ask for the password at the counter.

‘No use without a computer,’ said Luke.

‘Don’t be so negative.’ Sophie opened the door and Luke followed her in.

The place was a bit of a shambles, thought Sophie. Almost every table was cluttered with dirty crockery. The man who appeared behind the counter as they approached it seemed harassed. Not the best time to ask anyone a big favour, Sophie realised. She smiled at him. ‘Two pots of tea please.’ She heard Luke rumble behind her, probably wanting coffee, and ignored him. ‘You look as if you’ve been busy.’

‘Yup. Coachload of sightseers – well, minibus full – all wanting coffee and cake. And I’m short-staffed. I’ll clear you a table in just a moment.’

‘Don’t worry about that. Luke, I think we should have something to eat.’ She prayed that he would hear the emphasis in her voice and not say, ‘I’m not hungry.’

‘I guess I’ll get a chocolate muffin,’ he said.

Sophie made a face. ‘I don’t like muffins. Inferior cake. I’ll have a slice of lemon drizzle, please. Are all your staff off sick?’

‘Flu bug. Damn nuisance.’

‘It does seem to be everywhere.’ Then Sophie got to the point. ‘If you have a laptop we could borrow I’ll work for you for two hours, for nothing. I’ll clear the tables, wash up …’ She noticed a plate with a solitary scone on it. ‘And make you a fresh batch of scones or something.’ A second later she wondered if society was ready to return to the bartering system.

The man frowned. ‘Come again?’ He began putting teapots on a tray and filling a jug with milk as he struggled to make sense of what Sophie had said.

‘We really need to check our emails. We’re staying with my uncle who hasn’t got a computer. The library’s shut and I just
wondered whether, if you have a laptop or something, I could swap the use of it for some work. I’m very experienced in bar work and I’m a brilliant cook.’ She crossed her fingers behind her back. She
was
a good cook but boasting went against the grain. However, necessity overcame her modesty.

‘Oh. I see. Well, I don’t know.’

‘Pass me a tray and I’ll sort us out a table.’ She stacked a couple of tables’ worth of dirty crockery on to the tray with a practised hand. ‘Have you got a computer?’ Sophie felt if the answer was yes, she could overcome any other obstacles.

‘Upstairs in the office,’ said the man doubtfully.

‘I promise you, we only want to check our emails. If it’s a laptop you could bring it down here so you don’t need to worry about security. You’d be amazed at how much work I can do in two hours.’ She put the loaded tray on to the counter for him to take.

He hesitated for a very short time. ‘OK. I’m desperate. I’ll bring it down. You finish those tables. There’s an apron you can borrow on the back of the door in the kitchen.’

Just as he said this a crowd of women with shopping bags came in. ‘If I don’t get a cup of tea in one second I’m going to expire!’

Fortunately the fact that Sophie had worked in several cafés and wine bars meant she had no trouble finding her way round this one and was a very quick worker. There was no time to hang around. To Luke’s considerable amazement, she had the tables clear in no time, loaded the dishwasher with the cups and was tipping flour into a huge food mixer while she waited for it do its job. He was even more amazed when he realised the dishwashing cycle lasted only minutes and Sophie soon had it empty and was piling in plates and saucers.

Luckily for Sophie’s nerves the man, whose name was Jack, came down from the office with his laptop before she made some hideous mistake, spoiling Luke’s good impression of her for ever and getting them thrown out before they’d had a chance to connect with the internet.

Sophie felt strongly about giving good value, even if in this case it was not for money and she could have done with some. She had told Luke that she didn’t mind him sponging off her and she really didn’t, but she was aware he probably didn’t know quite how little money she had. He was welcome to whatever she did have, but managing on so little would be a shock to him.

While Jack was setting everything up, she trained Luke to dry the cutlery and serve coffee and tea so when he had finished and she wanted to check her own emails, she needn’t feel too guilty about dragging him into the maelstrom that was a busy café.

While he emailed Ali and other people in the office, she glazed the cheese scones she had made with milk and carefully stuck on grated cheese. She had just put them in the oven when Luke told her it was her turn.

‘OK, If I’m more than ten minutes, tell me, and I’ll check on those scones.’ She hesitated. ‘I don’t suppose you’d like to …’

‘No. I’m not taking responsibility for scones. What are scones?’

She laughed. ‘You’ll see.’

She nipped quickly through her emails. Two had Cornwall in the subject line. Her heart leapt with excitement. A response at last! Hooray!

She went and found Jack. ‘Do you have a printer? I have a couple of emails I really need to have a paper copy of. Any chance?’

Jack was delighted by how much Sophie had achieved in such a short time. ‘It’s as if you’re on speed!’ he said.

Sophie laughed. ‘Luke said I had ants in my pants, but there’s a lot to do and you’re doing us a big favour. I want to make it worth it for you.’

‘Well, you’re doing that all right.’

‘Luke, you go with Jack to sort out the laptop while I get on here.’

She checked the scones, decided they needed a few more minutes, looked at her watch and then served a couple of customers. Next she nipped upstairs to the office to see if the men were in print mode yet. She got down just in time to take the scones out of the oven, glad her inner cooking timer hadn’t let her down.

‘Sophie, are you sure you don’t want to come and work for me?’ said Jack as they left. ‘I’d pay double whatever anyone is paying you now.’

‘If I lived here I’d love to,’ said Sophie, ‘but sadly, I don’t. We’re just staying with my Uncle Eric.’

‘And you won’t let me give you any money for all the work you’ve done?’

Sophie could have done with the tenner he was offering her but she’d made her bargain, she wouldn’t go back on it. ‘No, no, two hours’ work for the use of your computer – and printer. We’re cool, thank you.’

‘You are a piece of work, Sophie Apperly!’ said Luke when they had left the café. ‘Amazing!’

Blushing at this praise, Sophie brushed it off. ‘It’s what I do – for work, anyway. When I’m not being a nanny I work in cafés and bars – have done since I was still at school. Not the bars though, obviously.’

‘Don’t put yourself down! You’re a great girl, even if most of your family don’t seem to appreciate you.’

Sophie shrugged, still blushing. ‘Well, you know what families are like.’ Then, wanting to change the subject, she
said, ‘But what about the emails? Two different leads for Matilda’s house!’

‘Yes, that is good.’ He was less enthusiastic.

‘You don’t seem pleased?’

‘It’s not that I’m not pleased, but my cards are proving hard to replace. I can’t transfer money into your account apparently, although why not, in this electronic age, I do not understand.’

‘You don’t need to transfer money into my account.’

‘Yes I do. I am not used to being paid for by …’

‘A girl?’

He grinned sheepishly. ‘That’s about it.’

‘It’s good for you,’ said Sophie firmly, but she was a bit anxious about how long her money would last them. If she found a bank she would check her balance.

‘So, are we going to Cornwall then?’ asked Luke.

‘Are you up for it?’ Sophie was delighted.

‘Sure am.’

‘Well, let’s find out about trains and then we need to get you some different clothes. I’m not going round Cornwall with you in that long cashmere overcoat. It’ll make you look like a tourist.’

‘Sophie, you can’t afford to buy me new clothes!’ Luke was concerned.

‘I can at the shops I shop at. Follow me. I know where all the charity shops are in this town.’

‘Thrift stores, you mean?’

‘Yup!’

‘I have never—’

She took his arm before he could finish his sentence. ‘I know, Luke dear, I know. The station is this way.’

‘I can’t believe it’s so expensive!’ said Sophie through the glass at the man. ‘We could buy a small car for that!’

The man shrugged. ‘Buy one then.’

Just for a second, Sophie processed the idea: finding a car, getting the money, insuring it, and then actually driving it all the way to Cornwall.

‘Or’, the man went on, ‘try the coach. I don’t think you have to change so often either.’

‘A coach! Brilliant idea!’ said Sophie. ‘Would you mind directing us to the coach station?’

Luke, being Luke, wrote down the directions. It was a very long walk.

The coach was far cheaper and, Sophie pointed out encouragingly, meant only one change. She knew Luke wouldn’t enjoy a coach journey of nearly seven hours, she wasn’t going to either, but she was used to long inconvenient journeys. He was used to first-class flights – if he wasn’t using the executive jet he was reputed to have, chauffeur-driven cars, or trains with trolley service. It was going to be a shock, but it would be good for him to see how the other half lived.