Hide in Time (2 page)

Laura dwelt on that last word rather
too long before she returned to professional mode. “Ah yes, I
almost forgot. Here are the details of Art Kumar.” She allowed
Xandra a few moments to absorb the sparse details that Art would
give. Laura enthused, “He really is a fine-looking man.”
She watched as Xandra’s finger paused on Art’s photo in
the file. “Very industrious and certainly knows how to make me
laugh. What do you think? Will you meet him?”

“My instincts whisper ‘no’.
But I will. I like plants.”

Laura knew they had little else in
common.

Arrangements were made with Art to meet
on Saturday lunchtime in the coffee shop in Waterstones.

Laura picked up the file from the table
where Xandra had left it. She tapped Art’s photo. “He
said you’ll easily recognize him.” Waiting for someone in
a public place could be embarrassing but the bookshop had earned
Brownie points. Her clients could peruse the shelves and then appear
to bump into an old friend and decide on coffee, cake, and a chat on
the top floor café’s comfy sofa.

“He’s quite a character,
Xandra.”

Laura watched Xandra leave. She saw her
looking in the multi-paned window of the jewellers again. A
professional interest, no doubt. They had always been one of the best
in Kent. Laura felt an affinity for them because she was born the
same year they opened.

Hide in Time ~ Anna Faversham

Laura arrived at her office early on
Monday morning in order to be there well before Xandra. She needed
time to think. When she’d settled here a few years ago, she’d
had little money and no experience of the ways of this world. She’d
even spoken differently from everyone else – not any more, of
course; well, mostly things were ok. It had been essential to blend
in. There, see, these terms came naturally now. The agency had the
tag line, “For People with Traditional Values in Life.”
It helped explain her youthful looks but occasionally antiquated
ways. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered one of the many
embarrassing moments – the time she’d interviewed her
first client and asked if he’d like to purchase her services.
Matt, hovering in the background, had rescued her again. Even now she
hadn’t quite mastered all the nuances of modern English.

She couldn’t settle to do any
work until she’d heard if Xandra’s date had been
successful. This thing with Xandra was taking over, fuelled by the
increasing number of coincidences occurring. She walked to the window
overlooking the street. Pacing the room was unsettling her further,
so she anchored herself to the window ledge with the tips of her
fingers and looked across the pedestrianized road to the jewellers.
‘Cornell ~ established 1796’ was written in the same gold
script above their window. Laura knew as she looked at the ring on
her finger that all her memories gathered around him still. “Adam,”
she said aloud, as if the very act of calling his name would alter
the course of history. Perhaps she had made an error of judgment in
renting an office opposite? She countered with ‘it gives me
roots.’ Besides, the bridal shop on the ground floor had
judiciously given her a reduction in rent. She removed the ring; it
must be kept hidden and she must trust no one – in this case
not even Matt – especially not Matt.

Xandra had said she’d call in at
nine o’clock and it was with relief that Laura caught sight of
her carrying a large plastic bag and glancing at the charity shop
fashions as she sauntered down Archangel Hill. Laura was transfixed
as Xandra paused to look at the jewellers. She forced herself to go
and sit down at the desk and await her arrival. She had Xandra’s
concerns and best interests at heart yet something was working
against her efforts to find Xandra a beau. She corrected herself,
soul mate, that’s the term everyone used now. She didn’t
like this strange feeling, so unlike anything she’d ever known.
The buzzer sounded, Laura pressed the button, acknowledged Xandra
then returned to sit at her desk. Moments later, Xandra burst through
the door clutching a garden gnome in one hand and a pink flowering
plant in the other.

“Another memorable entrance!”
Not diffident now, thought Laura.

“I’ve brought you some
mementoes from my date with Art,” Xandra said. “He was
right – I easily recognized him.”

“You’re not telling me he
was holding these as you arrived?”

“I am.”

Xandra put the plant on the little
table and the gnome beside it. “Fortunately, I had my trusty
Mulberry with me,” she said holding the tote bag aloft. “I
immediately placed the gnome within.”

It was the sort of handbag into which
one could cram a whole family of gnomes, well, certainly enough gold
or jewellery to last a lifetime. Cross with herself, she put that
thought aside and allowed herself a giggle. She did not normally
indulge in laughter; professionalism was what she was known for. “I’m
sorry,” she said with a hand over her mouth, “It’s
good to have feedback though.”

“Well now you have a gnome too.”

“A gnome to home,” Laura
felt her composure slipping away. As quick as an ant changes tack,
she said, “I have an idea. I have a friend…”

“An idea and a friend. You have
more than I.”

Laura beamed, oh how she warmed to this
client. “I should like to introduce my friend to you. You’ve
had some practice – just as you suggested – time for you
to meet Mr Right?”

Xandra smiled. “Is there such a
man and is he a client?”

“There is and he is,” said
Laura. “He’s also a friend. I met him when I first…
well that’s beside the point. My idea is for him to treat us
both to afternoon tea at Claridges.” Her formal manner was
slipping; she must maintain it. ‘Hang on in there,’ Matt
would have coached her, oblivious of the irony.

Xandra shook her head. “I
couldn’t intrude.”

“Oh you wouldn’t. Although
we had already arranged to meet, this would be an ideal time to
introduce you personally. Claridges is his second home. Well,”
Laura backtracked, “It’s his favourite hotel, shall I
say.” This was not a chat with a friend; she must be wholly
accurate with clients. She struggled back to her professional manner,
gestured at the chair opposite her desk and said, “Take a seat
and I’ll show you his details.”

Laura slid the blue folder across the
desk. To allow Xandra time to assess the profile, she eased herself
from her chair and went to the window. As was her custom, she threw
in a few aids to appraise. “It’s important to have the
same values’ system as each other and it certainly helps that
our agency is for people with traditional values. Matthew Redfern
does not need to work. Centuries ago, I could have recorded his
occupation as ‘Gentleman’.” Drat! She was slipping
into the old ways, Xandra seemed to induce these attacks. “These
days, everybody works, of course.”

Xandra looked up. “Hmm, it says
his occupation is Psychologist.”

Laura bit her lip and hesitated before
replying, “Yes, he sees patients privately at various clinics
including Harley Street. He’ll also,” she paused, “help
those who,” she faltered again, “perhaps through no fault
of their own, cannot afford his assistance.” Laura inhaled
deeply. “He’s one of the best, um… he raises
considerable sums for his various charities.”

“His charities?”

Laura fidgeted and hurriedly added,
“He’s Patron of quite a number. If you’re
interested, I shall ask him about them over tea, though it’s
not something he talks about generally.”

“I’d like to meet a man who
puts something back into life.”

“It took me a while but I’ve
learnt now that he gives more than he has ever received.” She’d
recovered her cool; she was greatly relieved. Silently she
congratulated herself on using the word ‘cool’ in her
thoughts. She must relax and sound contemporary and not like a
match-making old aunt.

“How so?”

“I’m not talking just about
money. I’m talking about the way he lives his life,”
Laura said firmly.

Without any discernible reaction,
Xandra continued to study the profile of the man who was most likely
to be the best match and catch that Laura would be able to find.

Doubt, ever present, failed to halt the
head of steam rising.

~

By chance, or the politeness of kings,
they all arrived at Claridges together – Laura and Xandra by
taxi and Matt by Jaguar XKR. He was just giving the keys to the
Commissionaire when he caught sight of them. As he turned, Laura felt
that familiar catch in her breath. He was tall, dark-haired and had a
pronounced smile line either side of his mouth. She loved that; it
reminded her of Adam, but Adam had an extra line, caused by a nick
from a blade. Matt bent to kiss Laura lightly on her cheek,
lingering, indulging in the scent of her.

“Lovely to see you again. I’m
so pleased you both could join me for tea.”

“Let me introduce Xandra
Radcliffe.” Laura turned to Xandra. “Xandra, this is my
good friend, Matthew Redfern.”

Xandra held out her hand and Matt took
it firmly in his. “Good to meet you, Xandra. I hope you’ll
call me Matt.”

Xandra’s response was in her
customary low voice and Laura noticed the effect she had on Matt
whether he liked it or not. She must give them every chance.

The Commissionaire held the door open
for them as they made their way inside. The concierge acknowledged
Matt’s arrival as he led them across the black and white
chequered marble floor towards afternoon tea being served in The
Foyer. As the waitress showed the way to the reserved table, Matt
allowed Xandra to go ahead and stole a quick moment with Laura.

“You’re right. She’s
delightful. Have you noticed how alike you are?” His dark eyes
focused on hers.

Laura was used to Matt’s teasing
compliments and she merely dipped her head. And he was so like…
Snap out of it, Laura.

Once seated, and tea chosen, Matt
turned to Xandra. “Laura tells me you’re a jeweller with
premises in Covent Garden. A stimulating place to work, I imagine.”

“Indeed it is,” said
Xandra, also sounding very formal. “Though my workshop is not
in Covent Garden itself; it’s in a quieter back street.”

Laura looked at Xandra. “Back
street? Just to be near Covent Garden is like being in the middle of
the earth.” No, try again, Laura. “At the centre of the
universe, I mean.”

Matt smiled warmly at Laura then asked
Xandra, “Do you have retail premises too?”

But Xandra did not pick up the ball and
run. “No,” was all she said as her eyes flicked from Matt
to Laura and back again.

Laura touched Matt’s jacket
sleeve and marvelled at how well she had adjusted. She had not been
brought up to be so intimate. “Oh Matt, you should see some of
the pieces she fashions,” she corrected herself, “makes.
She has commissions from such eminent people and creates the most
exquisite necklaces and brooches. I’ve even commissioned her to
copy something for me as she specializes in Georgian and Regency
jewellery, don’t you, Xandra?”

“I do.”

Matt turned his attention to Xandra.
“I’m very fond of the Georgian era. Does your interest in
that period extend beyond the reproduction of jewellery?”

Oh dear, thought Laura, Matt is still
sounding formal. That was his style really and in the early days it
had been reassuring for her. Or were they both nervous? Perhaps it
was a good sign.

“Yes,” replied Xandra. Then
she took a tentative step along this avenue. “I’ve often
thought I’d prefer to have lived then.”

Laura shivered visibly. The tingle it
caused only dissipated when the waitress attracted her attention.
“Darjeeling? Was that for you, madam?”

Matt noticed Laura’s uneasiness,
glanced around him, guided the waitress on who was having what and
commented on how relaxing the quiet buzz of conversation was.

Laura tried to appear preoccupied with
handing around the finger sandwiches; she must give them every
opportunity to get to know each other and, so far, they were both
sounding like two maiden aunts sizing one another up. She didn’t
feel much better either.

Matt took two sandwiches and switched
to being the entertaining host. He turned to Laura and said, “Have
I ever told you how I came to regard Claridges as my second home?”

“Not yet,” Laura said with
a grateful smile; he instinctively understood her.

“It was my sister’s
eighteenth birthday and, as an extra celebration, I invited her and a
few of her girlfriends to afternoon tea. It was my fervent hope she
might change from The Tomboy to The Lady if she caught the magic of a
fine hotel. We had a splendid tea, crowned by liveried waiters
processing towards us, just like they used to do. They were carrying
a huge cake with lighted candles, and singing ‘Happy
Birthday’.”

“Ah,” said Laura, relaxing
at last, “Fond memories endear a place…”

“Particularly if, when one goes
to pay the bill, there is no charge made for the cake,” Matt
said with a flourish. “Kindness? Astute business instincts? It
worked on both levels. I have rarely eaten or stayed anywhere else in
London.”

Two hours later, they left in the black
Jaguar, ‘with the lid off,’ as Laura always said.

~

“I cannot fault him,” said
Xandra when she rang Laura the following morning.

Here comes the but, thought Laura.

“But he’s not for me. He’s
too perfect.”

“Xandra, I don’t think you
know your own worth.”

“I’m not comfortable with
someone who already has everything. Claridges really was his second
home. All the staff behaved as if he lived there.”

Laura could not respond to this easily.
But she must not let Xandra misjudge someone as she once had.
“Xandra, I know Matt very well. He uses his wealth to further
the cause of…of…”

While Laura searched for words that
might persuade the determined Xandra to think again, Xandra said, “I
didn’t feel ‘at home’ with him and the BlackBerry,
the Jaguar and all the other accoutrements of his ultra-modern
lifestyle.”