Sociable. I could be sociable. It wasn’t that hard.
Chapter 3
Early the next day, I drove into Compney Parva to see probably my only friend in this part of the world.
Sonia Bliss had been my estate agent when I purchased the cottage. We’d moved on since then to breaking and entering, and I saw a kindred spirit in her. Someone else who was able to force a smile for the outside world when they didn’t really feel it on the inside.
I parked my faithful Green Mobile on the high street and walked into Bliss Real Estate.
The office was two shops knocked into one. The larger had been a butcher’s and retained some of the old tiling and ornate Edwardian designs of the former business. Halfway down the internal wall was an opening with a step down to the smaller of the two former shops, reflecting Compney’s steep high street.
The larger of the two rooms had a handful of desks but was mostly taken up by a reception and sitting area.
In the room, I was greeted by the sight of Dhapinder Bliss, Sonia’s sister-in-law, and a much fiercer estate agent who had parked herself at the semi-circle sofa that took up half the room. She had lacquered nails, a full blowout of her long black hair, and an expensive jacket over a well-fitted blouse.
“Mr Forrest,” she called out, standing up. “What a pleasure. What can we do for you?” She had the carefully considered glance of a salesperson; would I be buying? Did she need to have the charm on, or would surface-level politeness be okay in this instance?
I smiled back. “Hi, Dhapinder. I’m here to see Sonia.” I glanced around. There were several more staff in the next room. As I looked through, I saw Dhapinder’s excruciatingly attractive husband, Trevor, sitting at oneof the desks, showing a middle-aged couple houses on his laptop.
Dhapinder tracked my eyeline. All too aware of her husband’s aesthetically pleasing disposition. She gave me a shark’s smile. “I’m afraid Sonia’s out at the moment, showing a potential buyer around a farm building near Winterborne Minster, but she should be back any second. Is there anything wrong with the property?”
Property.That most annoying of estate agent words. It’s a house, or a home, not a property. It’s somewhere to live, not a commodity. Of course, even I didn’t say this and instead smiled back. “Not a problem, I’ll go get a coffee,” I said.
“You’re more than welcome to wait here,” she said with a flourish and directed me to the enormous sofa in the ‘waiting area’. I felt torn. “Uhhh …” I failed to think of a reason why not and instead meekly walked over and took a seat on the faux-velvet (polyblend) sofa in an art deco style.
I was glad, despite the hot weather, that I hadn’t opted for shorts and flip flops today, but instead chinos and plimsolls. “Coffee?” Dhapinder asked, gesturing towards their Nespresso machine.
“That’d be lovely.”
“You look like a man who likes an espresso?” she said, fiddling with the pods.
I was a man who liked his coffee weak, milky, and sweet, but I smiled instead. “Perfect.” I leaned forward and looked through the alcove to the next room and saw several staff tapping away on keyboards. A phone rang, and a thick Dorset accent belonging to one of the keyboard-tappers answered it. “Bliss Real Estate, how can I help?”
“Business is good then, I take it?” I said, benignly.
“More than good. We’re too busy to know what to do with ourselves. Can barely keep up with demand.”
I smiled graciously as she brought me a coffee and set it on the table. “Good to hear,” I said. “I suppose Trevor and Sonia’s dad must be glad his legacy is thriving?”
“The business is ours now,” Dhapinder said with a forced smile. Oh, touchy subject.
“Of course,” I stuttered. “Got to put your mark on it.”
“Quite,” she replied and took a seat at a desk, where she gave me a look that could lose you a finger.
“Arden!” came a voice from outside. I turned and saw Sonia peering through the glass of the front window. “What are you doing here?” she called.
Dhapinder rolled her eyes and beckoned Sonia in. “For goodness’ sake, Son, don’t stand at the window like a twit, come inside.” She tried to not shake her head at her overenthusiastic sister-in-law but failed.
Sonia entered with a clattering of bags, heels, paper, and dumped it all on another desk. Dhapinder winced slightly at the damage to her pristine aesthetics.
Wearing a short, tight skirt and a low-cut blouse with her jacket sitting heavily on her shoulder, she was clearly ruffled by the warm weather. Her face was red, her blonde bob slightly tousled and not helped by the large sunglasses she’d perched haphazardly on her head.
She cracked open a can of Diet Coke and fanned herself. “Scorching outside. Lovely – but scorching.” Her face searched mine for why I was here.
“Arden’s been waiting for you, Son,” Dhapinder said, offering the information when no other conversation was forthcoming.
If truth be told, I hadn’t spoken to Sonia in weeks and was starting to feel awkward.
