A Walk in the Park (19 page)

Twenty-four hours later, they pulled up in the Maybach outside Gray and Erskine, Wine Merchants. Harry said, “Listen, don't flirt with Gigi, OK? You'll just annoy Flynn.”

“Oh my, I'm so scared.” Enjay was entertained. “Trust you to worry about that, Harry.”

“It's just a matter of common decency, being polite. He's her father.” Sometimes dealing with Enjay was like having to steer a wayward toddler across a busy road; he knew no fear and was infinitely distractible.

“Hey, it's all cool. How do I look?” Enjay admired himself in the car window, preening and checking that the collar of his white Flying Ducks shirt was just so.

“Extremely vain. No change there. I'm just saying you should behave yourself,” said Harry. “It's basic good manners, that's all.”

He breathed in as Maz and AJ followed them into the main building. The air was heavy with the aromas of wood and wine. Bottles were stacked in crates and in boxed shelving lining the roughened whitewashed stone walls.

“Cool.” Enjay checked that Maz had started recording then raised a languid hand, superstar style, as Gigi and the customer she was dealing with looked up and saw them. “Hey, baby, I need a beautiful assistant to… assist me.”

A door opened and Flynn made his way across the shop floor. “Hi there. Can I help?”

“Thanks, but I'll wait for the beautiful assistant.”

The air crackled with tension and Harry realized Enjay had never had any intention of behaving himself. This was two alpha males vying for the upper hand. Harry, who couldn't imagine anything more alarming than being an alpha male, said pointedly, “If you're here to buy wine, Flynn's the one who knows about it. He's the expert.”

“I don't want wine,” said Enjay. “I don't drink wine. Only champagne.”

Harry cleared his throat. “Shall we order some then?”

“Hang on, she'll be free in a minute. We can take a look around while we're waiting. I've never been to a British wine merchant's before. Kinda nice.”

The elderly customer was soon dealt with and dispatched. Gigi came over and said, “How did it go last night in London?”

“Ha. Harry loved it.”

“I did not. It was pure torture. I wore earplugs,” said Harry.

“He did. Any time anyone tried to say anything to him he'd go, ‘I'm frightfully sorry, I'm afraid I can't hear you, I'm wearing earplugs.'”

“Did you dance?” asked Gigi.

“No.” Enjay was shaking his head. “He sat there drinking tomato juice and reading a book about Roman Britain.”

Gigi said, “That sounds like Harry. How about you, then? Did you have fun?”

“Hey, I always have fun.” Enjay winked. “And I wasn't spending my time reading about the Romans, I can tell you.”

Harry shrugged, unoffended. It didn't bother him in the least what other people chose to get up to in their spare time. When they'd left the club last night Enjay had been accompanied by two lithe girls wearing barely more than bra tops, the tiniest of skirts, and heels so high it was a miracle they could remain upright. All the way back to the hotel they'd entwined themselves like snakes around him. And this, according to AJ and Maz, was par for the course. Enjay's chosen form of entertainment was sex, pure and simple, with no question of any emotional involvement. In the morning he would send the girls off and never spare them a second thought. As far as Harry was concerned, it was a miserable, soulless way to pass the time. Personally he'd far rather read a book.

“So is there any danger of you spending some money with us,” said Gigi, “or are you just here for fun?”

“I'm here to spend a lot,” Enjay announced. “On Cristal. How much ya got here?”

“None at all,” said Flynn.

Enjay looked appalled. “Oh, man, are you
serious
? What's wrong with you guys?”

“Ignore him.” Harry shook his head. “He's obsessed with designer labels. It's a form of insecurity.”

“Hey, cut it out!” said Enjay.

“OK, come over here.” Flynn led the way across the shop to the floor-to-ceiling glass-fronted fridges. He selected a bottle from the second shelf, deftly removed the foil and the wire, then expertly turned the bottle to remove the cork with a delicate
pft
. Gigi lined up a row of slender glasses along the wooden counter.

“There you go.” Having poured a scant inch into the bottom of each glass, Flynn handed the first one to Enjay.

“Hey, I want more than that, man.”

“You see?” Harry shook his head in disappointment. “This is
precisely
what marks you out as a philistine.”

“Smell it first. No, like this.” Flynn showed them how. “Stick your nose right in and breathe in deeply. Cristal's a fantastic cuvée but I truly believe this one's better. Right, now have the first taste and tell me what you're getting. Try to separate out the different elements…”

Having got to know him over the course of the last couple of weeks, Harry had discovered that beneath the brashly shallow exterior, Enjay liked to learn about new things. Despite making fun of Harry for reading books, he had actually borrowed and enjoyed his copy of Khaled Hosseini's latest. Yesterday he had been taught by Don about the clarity and cut of various diamonds. And now he was listening intently as Flynn described the qualities of different grapes and growing conditions, production methods and vintages. Far more intelligent than he let on, Enjay preferred to keep this aspect of his character hidden.

At this rate he'd soon be giving Stephen Fry a run for his money in the cleverclogs stakes.

And thirty minutes later the order had been placed. As well as the champagne, Flynn had persuaded Enjay to select a variety of high-quality wines from New Zealand, Italy, and France. Pinot Gris, Sauvignon Blanc, and Burgundy all featured, along with a case of Pinot Meunier demi-sec champagne from a new producer destined for great things.

“So when are you going to be drinking all this?” said Gigi as the crates were stacked up. She looked disappointed. “Back in London, I suppose.”

“Not so, baby.” Enjay playfully looped a stray strand of hair away from her face. “In fact, I'm hosting a party at the Ellison tomorrow night. My way of saying thank you.”

Harry said, “It's actually his way of saying sorry for the living hell he's been putting the staff and guests through.”

“Hey, man, it ain't no living hell.”

“You've been a nightmare. Playing that hideous music. Singing at all hours. Spending half the night in the swimming pool. There are little old ladies,” Harry went on, “flattening themselves against the walls every time they see you.”

“And tomorrow I'm inviting them to my party,” said Enjay, “where I shall charm the pants off them.” He paused. “Not literally. That would be revolting.”

Maz put down the camcorder and said, “Want me to carry these out to the car, boss?”

“Yeah, do that.” Enjay knocked back the last of the Chablis in his glass and nodded at Gigi to refill it. “I may like the older ladies,” he added, “but not that old.”

Then he grinned and glanced at Flynn and in a flash Harry guessed what he was about to say next. Leaping into the breach, he blurted out, “So he's throwing this party to make up for all the misery, and then he'll blast them with
more
of that dreadful music…”

“Are we invited too?” Gigi had never been backward at coming forward.

“Sure, come along, the more the merrier.” Now resting his arm across her shoulders, Enjay drawled, “Bring your mom too.”

Harry winced; was he doing it deliberately?

No question. Of course he was.

“Hey,” Enjay gave Gigi a friendly squeeze, “did she tell you about what happened yesterday?”

“She did. You went into the shop and bought diamond earrings for, like, ten million pounds or something.”

“I meant after that.” Enjay winked at AJ and behind him Flynn stiffened.

“She didn't say.” Gigi's eyes were widening. “What happened?”

“Oh, nothing major. Bit of kissing, that's all. But pretty nice.”

“No!” Gigi let out a squeal. “I don't believe it!”

Enjay shrugged. “It's all on camera. Or you can ask Harry. He was there.”

Oh
great, drag me into it.

“Right, sorry, could you take your hands off my daughter?” Flynn reached out and for a moment looked as if he was about to forcibly remove Enjay's arm from Gigi's shoulder. He stopped short of physical contact but gazed levelly at him. “Thank you.”

Enjay waited a couple of seconds then let go of her. “Just being friendly, man. Not doing anything wrong.”

“Maybe not. But I'd be grateful if you didn't do it anyway.”

“My, my.” Enjay half smiled. “Something's bothering you. And to think I just spent a fortune in this store of yours.”

“I can cancel that. Feel free to take your business elsewhere.” Flynn stood his ground.

“Dad!”

“You must think you're pretty special,” Enjay continued silkily, “if you're talking like this while my crew's here.”

Flynn's jaw tightened. “You must think you're pretty useless if you'd stand back and let them fight your battles for you.”

Shit
, thought Harry who never swore, not even inside his own head. Oh good grief, and now man-mountain Maz was lumbering back into the shop in search of the next case, and AJ was clenching his oversized knuckles…

“Hey, no problem. It's cool.” Enjay raised his hands and stepped away from Gigi. “She's your daughter and I respect that. You can trust me, man. I give you my word.”

Harry waited. Everyone did. Finally Flynn exhaled and visibly relaxed.

“OK.”

“See?” Enjay winked at Gigi. “Your daddy's still lookin' out for you. That's a good thing. Shows he cares.”

“Shows he's bossy, more like.” Gigi was torn between pride and teenage embarrassment.

“No hard feelings, man. Come along to the party tomorrow night. Right, we need to head off now. Three houses to look at and the realtor's waiting for us.”

“Realtor?” Gigi's eyes were bright. “You mean estate agent? Oh wow, are you buying somewhere in Bath?”

“You never know. If the right place comes up.” Enjay signaled a genial good-bye to the two of them as the group made their way out of the shop. “See ya, guys.”

“See you tomorrow,” Gigi said eagerly.

Harry waited until they were all ensconced in the car. Then he shook his head at Enjay. “I thought he was going to hit you.”

“Honestly?” Enjay sat back and sprang open the pull-tab on a chilled can of Coke. “For a moment back there, so did I.”

“And you aren't looking to buy a property in Bath.” The viewings had been arranged purely in order to provide more material for the show; as the producer had explained, TV audiences like nothing better than to see footage of amazing homes they could never afford to live in themselves.

“Never say never.” Enjay ramped up the volume of the music. “This is life, man. Anything can happen.”

“Codswallop,” said Harry. “You only said it to wind up Flynn.”

The word codswallop amused Enjay no end. “I like winding people up. It entertains me.”

“For goodness sake,
why
?”

Enjay raised his mirrored shades and regarded him with affection.

“Oh, Harry, don't tell me you ain't noticed. That guy made out he was bothered about me and Gigi, but it wasn't her at all. What really made him mad was when I mentioned the thing with Lara.”

When Lara arrived home from work on Friday, there was a picnic hamper sitting on the doorstep. Lifting the lid—it was a beautiful wicker hamper and her stomach was rumbling—she folded back the white cloth to reveal amazing picnic food, asparagus quiche, assorted tiny sandwiches, chilled wine, mushroom frittata, mini Scotch eggs, and individual pots of hulled strawberries with clotted cream.

It was like the best present ever. And really,
so
many sandwiches… chicken and bacon, rare roast beef, smoked salmon and cream cheese… surely one or two would never be missed?

OK, three. Skillfully peeling back the cellophane, Lara helped herself to one of each kind then covered the rest up again. She glanced longingly at the mini Scotch eggs but exercised iron control. Mustn't be greedy. Unless the hamper was a present for her, in which case she could go crazy.

The next moment she heard a male voice inside the house and hurriedly closed the wicker lid. Then the door was pulled open and she came face to face with Joel, looking more than ever like a fallen blond angel.

“Oh, it's you. Do me a favor and tell Evie to sort herself out.”

He looked upset and resentful, and was wearing a cream linen jacket and jeans. “One day she might change her mind and discover she's left it too late.” As he said it, he picked up the hamper and marched off down the drive.

Lara grabbed the door before it swung shut and let herself into the house. Evie was pacing the living room like an ex-smoker desperate for a cigarette.

“Let me guess. He wanted to take you out for a romantic picnic, and you said no.”

Evie heaved a sigh. “This isn't as easy as I thought it was going to be. I'm all up in the air. I think I'm sorted, then Joel comes along and it's like he puts my heart in a blender.”

“Are you hungry?”

“No.” Evie abruptly stopped pacing. “Actually, yes, I am.”

“Damn, I should have stolen more.” Lara took the hand out from behind her back and said, “They were calling out to me from inside the hamper. You have them.”

“We'll share. Thanks.” Evie took a bite of the chicken sandwich, chewed, and swallowed. “That's really nice.” She looked miserable. “Oh God, why do I feel so crap?”

“Tell me what he said to you.”

“He said I think someone better's going to come along, but who knows if that will happen? What if it doesn't? Maybe I'll regret being like this and wish I hadn't been so stubborn because I could end up with some complete no-hoper like the guy he saw me with outside Brown's.”

“Well, that's rubbish, because you said Ethan was nice. You got on well together.” Lara was indignant. “You liked him. Just because he's not as
pretty
as Joel, what does that matter? Honestly, what a bloody cheek.”

Evie flung herself down on the sofa and covered her face. “OK, this is what makes it worse. I didn't say it before, but I more than liked Ethan. I wasn't expecting it, but I ended up
really
liking him. We had such a good time. It gave me confidence, you know? I didn't feel like such a failure. And I thought he'd be in touch. I really expected him to call.” She slid her hands away and shook her head in defeat. “But guess what? He didn't. I've waited and waited all week and it hasn't happened, so now I feel like a complete failure, a hundred times worse, and maybe Joel's right, I can't expect to end up with anyone at all.”

“Oh, don't say that. You
will
. Men are just stupid sometimes.” Lara tore the final sandwich in half and said, “Just keep telling yourself it's not you, it's them.”

“OK.” Unconvinced, Evie said, “Although right now it definitely feels like it's me.”

***

Evie's mobile burst into life thirty minutes later while Evie was upstairs. Seeing Joel's name on the screen, Lara impulsively answered it.

“OK, before you say anything, this isn't Evie. She's in the shower. And you telling her she's never going to meet someone else as good as you isn't fair,” she told Joel. “You can't browbeat her into taking you back. You need to leave her alone.”

“But I love her.” Joel sounded as desperate as Evie.

“You cheated on her!”

“Anyway, that's not why I'm calling. I just tried to return the hamper to the deli and they wouldn't take it back. There were three sandwiches missing. I suppose that was you.”

“OK, two things,” said Lara. “One, you left the hamper on the doorstep. When I got home there was a teenage boy running out of our drive. When I asked him what he was doing I couldn't make out a word he said because his mouth was full. And two, you can't take fresh food back to a shop because you don't want it anymore. That's just wrong.”

“Yes, they said that too. I didn't know. Bloody hamper cost a fortune.” He sounded crestfallen. “Anyway, sorry about accusing you.”

“That's all right. What are the sandwiches like?”

“Nice. I just tried one. To be honest, I've lost my appetite now.”

“Oh, that's a shame.” Lara was sympathetic. “Aren't there any other girls you could get to go on a picnic with you?”

“No there aren't. And stop having a go at me,” said Joel.

“I'm not having a go. It's just that Evie's really hungry. And it seems like such a shame for all that lovely food to go to waste.”

The opportunity to get back into Evie's good books did the trick. Within minutes Joel had dropped off the hamper.

Well, waste not, want not.

“What's this?” Half an hour later, Gigi arrived home.

“Picnic.” Evie was devouring strawberries and cream.

“Indoor picnic.” Lara patted the space next to her on the tartan rug spread out on the living-room floor. “This way we can watch
Coronation
Street
.”

“And
EastEnders
,” said Evie.

“Without having to fight off all the wasps and mosquitoes.” Lara pointed to the last segment of out-of-this-world asparagus quiche. “Try that, you won't believe it.”

“Not the only thing I didn't believe today.” Collapsing down beside her, Gigi said, “Enjay told us what happened yesterday!”

Oh bum. Lara had really hoped he wouldn't.

“And now you're going all red,” Gigi crowed. “So it did happen. Mu-um!”

Honestly. If she could be reincarnated with just one improvement, it would be the ability to remain calm and not blush. “It wasn't me.”

“It
was
you. You kissed him.”

“He kissed me. For about half a second. And I didn't join in,” said Lara. “He was just playing a game.”

“Yeah, I guessed. Ha, it was funny though. Dad wasn't pleased either.”

“No?” That caused a jumble of emotions to stir themselves up.

“I thought for a moment he was going to hit him.”

“
What?
”

“Oh, not over you. That was because Enjay had his arm around me.” Gigi took a greedy bite of Scotch egg. “You know what he's like. Mum, these are fantastic!”

Honestly, Enjay made Jack Nicholson look shy and withdrawn. Lara said, “Oh well, another week and he'll be gone.”

“That reminds me. He's throwing a party at the Ellison tomorrow night.”

“Why?”

“Just more camera fodder. Basically it's his way of apologizing to all the other guests he's managed to annoy. We're invited too.” Gigi's gesture encompassed the three of them. “He wants all of us there, to dilute the old crones.”

Ooh, opportunity. Lara looked across at Evie and said, “We'll definitely go. You might see Ethan.”

Then her phone rang and she jumped, as she always seemed to be doing at the moment. What with still not having heard from James Agnew and waiting for the DNA results from the laboratory, she was turning into a nervous wreck.

But it was only Don, calling to ask her to open up the shop tomorrow morning because one of his crowns had come loose and he needed to visit the emergency dentist first thing.

Lara hung up, then called James Agnew's number again. No answer. If the foreign woman was still there she was no longer even bothering to pick up the phone.

Where was he?

Was he ever coming back?

Had he died?