After a good night’s sleep from all the travelling, they had woken to the early morning sun shining through the balcony doors, promising them a new and exciting day. Stretching, Jasper rolled on to his side and gazed down at his wife. How beautiful she was with her flawless complexion and long blonde waves cascading over the pillow. Her eyelids fluttered open to reveal those gorgeous blue eyes.
‘Morning, Mrs Hendricks.’ He lowered his head to kiss her lips.
‘Morning.’ She smiled, then sat up to look out of the windows. ‘What shall we do today?’ She fancied a lazy day on the beach. She couldn’t wait to walk on its golden shoreline and swim in the warm waters of the Arabian Gulf.
‘Whatever you want,’ Jasper replied, then playfully tugged her back down to lie on the bed. ‘But I’ve something in mind for now,’ he whispered, trailing kisses along her collar bone, then up her neck to reach her lips again. Adira wrapped her arms round him and hugged him hard.
Later that morning after breakfasting on the balcony, they made their way to the beach. But instead of having a lazy day there, Jasper took them to Kite beach, which was the super-cool place for water sports. Here, Adira had waterskied for the first time ever. Jasper however was no stranger to this sport and had excelled, with his muscular body moving in sync with the speed boat and jet skis. Adira had clocked one or two admiring glances from a few of the ladies sunbathing on loungers, as they strolled down the sand. And who could blame them? she thought. Jasper looked an Adonis in his black shorts and bare chest.
The evening was enchanting, eating alfresco at an award-winning Michelin-starred restaurant, overlooking the still, glimmering water. Lanterns glowed from the outdoor decking as a guitarist gently strummed. They were in the Dubai marina, which boasted many lavish yachts. There they floated, illuminating wealth and glamour, as if in competition with each other.
‘So,’ sighed Adira happily sipping her wine. ‘What will tomorrow bring?’ she asked, knowing full well Jasper would have ideas.
‘How about visiting Bur Dubai, the oldest part of the city?’ He was sure she’d love the atmosphere of the gold and spice souks of old Dubai, piled high with aromatic and glittering treats.
‘Let’s!’ she agreed with gusto. Jasper couldn’t help smiling at her eagerness. She looked exquisite tonight in a fitted black dress, perfectly complementing her slim figure. The sun had already given her skin a soft, golden shine, highlights threading through her hair. My God she was pretty. He too, had noticed quite a few heads turn, but then they would, especially with her colouring. Blonde-haired ladies in Dubai stood out in contrast to the usual dark-haired beauties. He understood the looks aimed his way. He was indeed a very lucky man. This had to be the most content he’d ever been in his life, he realised on reflection. Whilst he’d had an idyllic time as a child with Fletcher at The Laurels, it had only been in the holidays. Those long hazy days of summer always came to an end, with a sad little boy made to pack his suitcase and say goodbye to his uncle. Christmases too, whilst packed with joy and delight, were too short. Jasper had hated returning to school, gazing desolately out of the classroom window, wondering what Fletcher was doing back in Lilacwell. Or even worse, returning home to a house filled with a cold, distant presence and strict rules. Then came college, which had taken him further away from his uncle, followed by university, taking him even further. It was only now, as an adult, that he felt well and truly grounded having The Laurels as his permanent home, with Fletcher there as his anchor. And to top it all, he had Adira too. Together they would make The Laurels a bustling, family home, full of love and laughter. In his mind, he pictured his old bedroom as a nursery for their future children and a comforting warmth engulfed him. His eyes filled with emotion. He suddenly looked up, as Adira’s hand rested on his.
‘OK?’ she asked, seeing him in deep thought.
‘Never better,’ he grinned. Then he raised his glass and saluted her. ‘Here’s to you Adira, for making me the happiest man alive.’
‘Oh, Jasper.’ Her voice cracked and she gulped.
Chapter 37
Rory hadn’t wasted anytime booking an appointment with the architect he’d researched. Knowing any plans they made would have to be approved by the council, he was keen to get the ball rolling and the project underway. Rory was confident, having looked at this particular architect’s website, that he would understand what he and Cassie wanted to achieve. He’d seen photographs of previous barn conversions the architect had worked on and particularly liked his style and approach:
A successful conversion will be a sympathetic transformation, reflecting the building’s heritage
and former purpose, with the interior offering the perfect mix of dramatic, double-height open-
plan spaces and cosier areas for much-needed privacy. Celebrating the barn’s history while
creating a 21st century home is key.
Now that was exactly what he wanted, Rory had thought with satisfaction. If they could get this… David Higham on board, founder of David Higham Architects, then they’d be on a winner.
Fortunately he was available to come and meet Rory and Cassie. Initially, when Rory had emailed David Higham Architects, he had received a rather standard reply stating that David’s diary was completely full for the next three months and to leave contact details for when he was free. Feeling somewhat dejected when telling Cassie of this, she, in true Cassie style, had taken matters into her own hands. Unbeknown to Rory, she rang the architects and asked (quite insistently) to speak to David Higham himself. Once (reluctantly) put through, she had launched into full marketing mode and told him precisely who Rory was, the Climate Warrior, barrister extraordinaire, saviour of the Goldgate Tunnellers. She went on to outline their venture, how they intended to set up an eco smallholding and have the whole thing documented and publicised to the max. Cassie talked of involving the local press, radio and TV, country magazines and hopefully get some form of sponsorship from various businesses.
Funnily enough, David Higham then became available. The mention of publicity made his ears prick up and he sat up sharply, listening intently to this very confident young woman who he suspected was not going to take no for an answer. He recalled the story of the Goldgate Tunnellers on the news a few months ago and he remembered the barrister who had successfully defended them. David was curious; he wanted to meet these two and get to know the people behind the barn conversion plans. And what’s more, renovating their barn would be extremely good for his business. He considered all the exposure of working for the Climate Warrior and the pound signs started to flash. His barn design would be covered all over the place, according to this woman. A full marketing campaign, without him spending a penny! The opportunity was an absolute godsend and not to be sniffed at.
Grabbing his diary he urgently scanned it for any possible gaps. True, it was pretty full, but there was no way he was going to miss out on this job, even if it meant cancelling another client – business was business after all. When finally Cassie had said her piece, David Higham, the much sought after architect, couldn’t see them quick enough. He was however, a consummate professional and didn’t want to appear too keen.
‘So you see, Mr Higham, as we’re desperate to start up the smallholding and get the crops planted, we need to be in the barn as soon as possible.’
Cassie refrained from telling him that in actual fact, they had talked of buying a mobile home and living on site in it, until the barn was ready. She didn’t want him thinking there was no rush, because for someone as impatient as she, there was.
‘I see,’ said David. ‘In that case, let me take a look… oh, as luck would have it, one of my appointments has been cancelled,’ he lied. ‘How about next week?’
‘Really?’ shot back Cassie on full alert.
‘Hmm yes… how about next Monday?’
‘Yes, thank you!’ she gushed.
‘OK, then. Next Monday it is. I’ll have my secretary email you the details.’
‘Right, you mean with the time you’ll be here?’
