Restoring Grace (44 page)

‘
You can't blame me for that. You're beautiful.'
She blushed.

‘
Would you like me to do
the washing up now?' he
asked,
looking at her in exactly the same way that had
so thrown her before.

‘I think that would be a good idea.'

‘Perhaps I should use cold water.'

‘Silly! I'll do it.’

He moved her out of the way. 'I don't want to
leave it
all to you. You'll have Demi to look
after. Are you going
to tell her parents?’

Grace bit her lip and
shook her head. 'I haven't decided!
I know I should,
but I don't know what's to be gained if
I do.' She screwed the lid back on the marmalade jar. 'Her
mother
will go mad and Edward . . . well, Edward might
be very angry, and that is not a pretty sight.' She smiled,
to soften her words. 'Not one I'd put Demi through
without
very good reason.'

‘So you won't tell them?'

‘
It depends
on Demi. If she is genuinely remorseful and shows no signs of wanting to do
anything like that again,
I'll probably slip something into the
conversation in a
casual way. I can't quite
square it not to tell them, but if I rang them now, they'd have Demi out of
here before we
could squeak, she'd
be miserable at home, and the whole
thing
is much more likely to happen again. What do you
think? I'm tired of
trying to be Solomon.'

‘
It's not my
business. I'm not a father myself, you're
not a mother . . . What is it?’

Grace had suddenly felt
slightly sick. 'I've just
thought—'

‘
What! Tell me, woman!'

‘
We had unprotected sex,' she whispered, hugely
embarrassed to talk about what they'd done now they were both dressed and in
the kitchen.

‘
Is that what it was? I thought we were making
love.’

Flynn's expression had an
edge to it, as if he were hurt
in some way, and yet he would surely
accept they had been very irresponsible. 'We were - we were doing both.' Grace
was still blushing ferociously, partly because she
was remembering the conversation she and Ellie had had
about
asking Flynn to give her a baby. Now it seemed a terrible idea - so
exploitative she could hardly bear to think she'd ever made such a flippant
remark.

‘
OK, so
what's the worst that can happen because of
it? You could get pregnant. You want a baby, so how bad
is that?'

‘
Very bad!
Oh, you know what I mean.' She could
hardly tell him what she and Ellie
had discussed, not
when she was agonising
over the fact that he might think
she'd
tricked him into making her pregnant. 'I do want
a baby, more than
anything, but not - not as a single
parent!
I'm not brave like Ellie. I couldn't cope with every
thing - my family,
the shock-horror - on my own.'

‘And why do you think you'd have to? Why do you
assume that I'd run off and never speak to
you again if
I made you pregnant?'

‘
I don't
know! Perhaps you wouldn't, but perhaps we
- I - should do something to
stop it happening.'

‘Take the morning-after pill? Is that what you
want to do?'

‘I don't know!' she said again, lying this
time. 'I'm all confused. I just don't understand how I got myself into this
situation.' She smiled ruefully, trying to lighten the atmosphere. 'It's
totally out of character for me.’

He came up to her and put
his arms round her. 'So you
let yourself
get carried away. Is that such a sin?' He ruffled
her hair and stroked her neck in a soothing way. He smelt
nice,
his arms were strong and his voice was low and comforting. And very sexy. She
struggled gently.

‘
Let's not
worry about any of that now,' she said briskly.
'I need to get the rest of the stuff out of the drawing
room.’

Reluctantly, he allowed her to free herself.
'Tell me: in
a house this size, why did you
choose to have the meal
in the drawing room? There must be a dining
room, for goodness' sake.'

‘There is. We didn't use it because it hasn't
been used
for a while and we tidied up the
drawing room for Allegra
- as you might remember.'

‘
I'd love to
see the dining room. I've always been
curious about this house.'

‘And you've never had a tour? You should have
said. Come and see the dining room.’

She took his hand and led
him out of the kitchen to
the dining room, then opened the
door and drew him
inside. The curtains
which she and Ellie had hung up so carefully had all fallen on to the floor.
Hardly surprising,
she thought,
they'd banged them up with very little care.
And then she realised.

‘Oh my God,' she said. The spaces where the
shutters
and the panels had been were
vacant. She felt sick. Sweat
sprang
from her hairline and palms. She felt herself sway
slightly.

‘What?’

She rubbed her lips together to moisten them,
so she
could speak. 'The paintings. The
paintings are gone! They
must have been stolen!'

‘
What paintings?’

She put her hands up to her face, as if she
needed to hold on to herself so she wouldn't collapse. 'There were
some painted panels, here, on the shutters.
They're gone!'

‘
Well,
who can have taken them?'

‘A burglar! Who else?'

‘Are you sure? Most burglars only take stuff
they can
sell easily down the pub for ready
cash. Who else but
you knew about them?'

‘Ellie does.'

‘You don't think Ellie took them!'

‘No! Of course not.'

‘
Then calm down. Would there be any reason for
Ellie to do anything to them?'

‘
She was going to restore them. They may be worth millions
and I have to sell them to pay for the dry rot.
Which is thirty thousand pounds' worth, I should tell
you!'

‘It is expensive stuff.’

Now her hands were in her hair, clutching at
it. 'And
how am I going to pay for it if
someone's run off with
the bloody paintings?'

‘I don't suppose they were insured.’

She almost screamed with anxiety and
frustration at his inability to understand how awful the situation was. 'Of
course they weren't! No one knew they were there except us! I could never have
afforded to have them insured!’

He was being maddeningly
calm about this major catas
trophe. 'Then if no one knew about
them, it is terribly unlikely they've been stolen. It will be something to do
with Ellie. What did she say in her note?'

‘Nothing about stealing the paintings!' Grace
wailed,
running from the room so she could
look at the note again.

‘
She just says she's spending the night at Ran's house,'
she
confirmed a few minutes later, when she had gone through the rubbish and found
the note.

‘
Then she'll be back soon.
It's nearly twelve, all we
have to do is wait for her to come back and ask her.’

‘
But supposing she knows nothing about them?' Grace
sank into a chair. 'What then?'

‘
Then we make a plan. Why don't you ring Ellie on
her
mobile?'

‘Of course!
Where's the bloody phone?’

Chapter Eighteen

 
Ellie had intended to get up early, but after her disturbed
night had not managed to be in the kitchen, making break
fast, when she first encountered Ran. Instead it was him
in there, grinding beans, making coffee. Which was unfor
tunate because the smell of coffee made Ellie so sick she
had to
leave the room.

When she came back, she
said, 'Morning! No coffee for me, please,' and tried to be her usual breezy
self, as if he
had not practically told
her she was a tart the night before
and she was not remotely in love
with him.

‘Sorry. I forgot. What would you like?’

He looked, if such a thing were possible, even
more
sexy. His cheekbones were enhanced by
his stubble, and
his hair, all
ruffled and 'just got out of bed', begged to be
smoothed by sensitive fingers. Bastard! thought Ellie. He
might have put a shirt on. For although the
little kitchen
was not all that warm, Ran had chosen to make breakfast
wearing nothing but a pair of torn jeans. His torso
was bare and in surprisingly good condition for someone
past
their twenties.

‘
Tea. I'll
make it!' Ellie cursed herself for sounding like
a Girl Guide. If she
hadn't felt so miserable, she would
probably
have had a last crack at seducing him. She prob
ably wouldn't have the
time, the location and the desire again. Unfortunately, although those three
were enough for her, the desire seemed to be missing on Ran's part, making the
first two requirements redundant.

‘
Would you like me to cook
you something?' she asked,
when she had found a mug and a tea bag. 'I'm a very
good cook.'

‘
I know,' said Ran,
regarding her over his coffee mug.
'I ate your food last night.'

‘
I'm glad you
liked it.' Ellie wrung out a dishcloth,
which smelt slightly, and wiped
the work surface, then
she started running
hot water into the sink so she could
wash up. What am I doing? she asked
herself. Trying to housekeep her way into his heart?
She knew it wouldn't work. Ran was sitting at the kitchen
table in a way that told her quite definitely that
he was
a) not a morning person and b) had quite recently given
up smoking. She could almost see the phantom
Gauloise
between his fingers. Not even a supermodel, who wasn't
pregnant, and who hadn't made a complete fool of
herself
the night before, would have
a chance with him right now.

She carried on cleaning
up the kitchen but didn't speak.
If she couldn't
drag him back into bed, and optimistic
and determined as she was she accepted that she couldn't,
she wanted to get back to Luckenham House. She didn't
want Grace facing the mess alone after a night in hospital,
and,
more importantly, didn't want her wandering into
the dining room and finding the paintings gone. She also
wanted to be out of this awkward situation as
quickly as
possible.

Ran, to his credit,
seemed to realise this. 'I expect you're
in a
hurry to go,' he said when Ellie had done all the washing up and was making a
start on the cooker. 'I'll
just finish this
coffee, have a quick shower, and drive you
back.'

‘It's terribly kind of you—' she began.

He got up from the table and she turned to face
him.
She was still clutching a cloth covered
with creme
cleans
er. 'I thought we'd established I
don't do kind. I expect you to pay me back.'

‘
But I haven't got any—'

‘
Shush. I've been
thinking. Were you serious when you
said
you were interested in picture conservation?’

‘
Yes! I
told you—'