‘I thought for a moment the thatch was on fire or something dreadful like that,’ he said. Blythe felt bad for thinking that if it did burn down that would save her having to admit to Sam what she’d done.
‘No, it’s fine. Completely beautiful,’ she said, almost sighing at the sight of a bat swooping around the trees.
‘Good. I’ve been thinking. You said it was a death sale, right?’
Blythe didn’t like his turn of phrase. ‘Yes, the gentleman who lived here died.’
‘Do you know if they want to keep the furniture?’
Blythe shut her eyes. When she’d set this up she hadn’t realised that she’d have to lie to people. She was rubbish at lying. ‘I don’t know, Sam.’ That was at least an honest answer.
‘Could you ask them? Because I’m thinking usually in a case like this they get in a house-clearance firm and it all gets skipped, which is such a shame. I’d be happy to make an offer for it all. I’m hoping we can come to an arrangement because if I take it lock, stock and barrel that saves them a job.’
Blythe thought about the old chairs and bits and bobs. She hadn’t thought of Sam as the sort of person who would favour carved wood and wing-backed chairs. ‘Can you leave it with me?’ she asked, rubbing a hand over her face.
‘Great. Thanks, Blythe. I don’t suppose anyone is talking dates yet at your end, are they? My solicitor said he hasn’t had any engagement yet.’
‘Er, no dates as yet, Sam, but I promise I’ll keep you posted.’
They said goodbye and she could tell how different he sounded. Gone was the curt, bored man she’d first dealt with, replaced by an enthusiastic one who had found his dream home and was hoping to set a moving-in date.Eurgh, she hated herself.
Blythe waited to see if Turpin would return but he didn’t so she took the food inside. Murray had always been very clear about not leaving any food out for fear of attracting rats. She washed up the bowl and walked through to the front door. She halted in the hallway and scanned everything. Her eye was drawn to a small wooden seagull ornament. She picked it up and remembered chatting to Murray about it. How he’d knocked it off the little table so many times reaching for the phone but he couldn’t bear to move it as it greeted him when he walked into the cottage.
Blythe studied the glue mark around the bird’s beak. ‘Poor little seagull.’ She swallowed down a lump. Then she heard Murray’s soft voice correcting her. ‘It’s a kittiwake.’ And despite feeling a little tinge of sadness, it made her smile.
7
17thJune
Things were decidedly frosty in the office. Blythe had come in to find that the monthly sales charts had been taken down and so had the Agent of the Year certificates, which had covered the last ten years. Clearly Ludo was serious about making changes. She hated that she was responsible for him rethinking the way he’d been running his business after all these years. The other staff were blaming her and apart from the odd stilted good morning everyone was blanking her. She did find this a bit odd because seeing as she had been the top agent anyway it was really only her who was missing out now that the scheme had been dismantled, but as nobody was talking to her she didn’t have an opportunity to put this case across.
She spent the day focusing on doing her work to the best of her ability. She couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing Ludo further. Ludo had even reassigned Heather, the office junior, to Amir for the next part of her training, which had been another body blow. She was determined to put things right. Blythe had rung all the local solicitors and funeral companies again and they either didn’t know anything about Murray or completely refused to tell her either way. She was fast realising she was going to have to come clean to Sam. The thought of it made something hit the bottom of her stomach like an out-of-date Christmas pudding.
A small part of her had been hoping that something else would come on to their books that would be even better for him than Murray’s place, but she knew that was impossible. The cottage was completely perfect for Sam; nothing else was going to top it. Which meant she had to call him and explain the situation she’d got them both into. She was putting off making that phone call. She’d not covered all the Manchester area solicitors or funeral directors yet, so maybe she’d exhaust those first before she spoke to Sam. Although exactly how long that was going to take was uncertain.
Amir was buzzing around the office looking ridiculously pleased with himself, presumably because he’d come back from a successful viewing. Part of her wanted to know what he had sold but most of her didn’t want to show any interest. It was him who had triggered this mess. If he’d not set out to stop her hitting the record she wouldn’t even have been working on a Sunday let alone selling properties that weren’t for sale.
Amir tapped on Ludo’s door, said something inaudible and returned to the middle of the office. ‘Can I have everyone’s attention?’ he asked, puffing himself up like a pigeon on heat. Blythe reluctantly stopped typing and looked up. ‘I have some exciting news,’ he said. Blythe noticed Heather hanging off his every word. He gave a dramatic pause and she wanted to shout at him to hurry it along. Her mobile rang just as he spoke and everyone grumbled.
‘Good afternoon, Bly…’ Everyone was glaring at her. ‘Sorry,’ she said with a wince and she took the call outside.
‘Hello? Is that Blythe Littlewood?’ asked the caller.
‘Yes, sorry about that. How can I help?’ Blythe peered through the glass window in an attempt to work out what the big news was that Amir was announcing.
‘I’m from Ashley, Bennett and Wake solicitors and we’ve been instructed to deal with the sale of the property 32 The Green, Holly Cross.’
At the name of the village Blythe tuned back in. ‘I’m sorry, which property was this?’
‘Thirty-two The Green, Holly Cross,’ they repeated.
‘You’re dealing with Murray Henderson’s estate? Oh my goodness, thank you so, so much for getting in touch.’ Relief washed over her like gravy over a roast dinner.
‘I understand you already have a buyer for the property. Is that correct?’
‘Yes, it’s a Mr Sam Ashton. I can email over all his details. He’s very keen to proceed quickly if we can.’ She was desperate to make up some of the time she’d made him lose.
‘That shouldn’t be an issue.’
