Giorgos sighed. ‘I don’t throw money at anyone without prospects of a decent return. But it is true I have some time and money on my hands as I head towards an early retirement. I have had quite a bit of time to reflect on things, actually. Should I have invested more in my marriage? Yes, totally. Should I have spent more time with my sons? Probably.’ Nic couldn’t help bristling at that choice of word. A father shoulddefinitelybe around his kids for at least some part of each day. He’d insist on it when he had his own children. ‘Having said that, Theo told me great things about your company, and I admit some of my short-term goals are to support your mother as well as to help you and your sibling achieve your career goals.’
Nic almost choked. ‘Support Mum? It’s a bit late—’
‘Better late than never. I don’t know if Theo told you I offered to set him up in a relatively senior position for his age. You could come on board too, if you wanted to learn.’
Nic didn’t let his outrage show. ‘He turned down being one of your minions because at my company he is second-in-command.’
‘Not an equal partner, though.’
Nic folded his arms. ‘That wasn’t how it was set up. And what would we learn from you? How to bribe judges, cheat workers, take on cheap labour from abroad and ban unions?’
‘You could learn how to be leaner and stay afloat. And surely Theo is a bit old to be a glorified PA?’
‘Business manager,’ Nic snapped. ‘He’s no one’s assistant and no fool. I didn’t tell him I was coming to see you, as I knew he would disapprove.’
‘So, why are you here, Nicolas, if I’m so bad at running my business? From the little information you shared on the phone yesterday, I’m guessing you’re in trouble financially.’
‘I don’t want a handout,’ Nic spat, all buttons successfully pushed by his self-satisfied father.
‘That’s good, because I’m not offering you one. You spoke about an investment opportunity.’
Nic considered walking away, but this was a prime chance to get the company on a stable footing. So, he swallowed his pride and made the offer he’d come to make. ‘As I outlined on the phone, we’re developing a luxury village in a beautiful area. Its backdrop is one of the world’s most iconic landscapes.’
‘Fitzrovia?’ his dad sniggered.
‘No.’ Nic shook his head at the weak joke. ‘And not Barnes or Pimlico, either. We have been lucky enough to purchase swathes of land in Cumbria, with a lake view, but far enough outside the National Park boundary to be free from the tightest restrictions. I am confident it will be profitable and want to expand the concept, but other bidders are coming in and pushing land prices up. We’ve re-invested our spare capital into other building projects and need an injection of cash urgently, and as you have a varied portfolio—’
‘Did you bring supporting literature?’
Nic had spreadsheets ready to go, but for now he pulled a one-off brochure from his bag. He hoped this hot-off-the-press publicity might pull his father into the dream.
Giorgos took the booklet. ‘In principle this is interesting to me. Let’s find somewhere to eat and you can talk me through the figures.’
***
As Nic made his way back on the Tube later that day, he noticed his shoes were covered in the kind of claggy grey mud you only find on the Thames – no comparison to a dusting of golden-brown earth from his garden in the Lakes. But the meeting had been a success with his father tentatively giving his involvement a thumbs-up. Now Nic just needed to convert that into a solid yes. The first thing he did was invite Giorgos to come and check out the site, as no human could fail to be captivated by the beauty of the lake. He also mentioned the Spring into Summer Swim as he knew Dad would be impressed with seeing the Castle name all over the signage and badges. When Nic thought about the swim, he pictured Aria in a wetsuit, her hair spiralling down her graceful neck, blinking away the water on her eyelashes. It sent a flicker of interest through his body that even a trudge home from the underground couldn’t extinguish. He checked his phone to see if she’d replied to his offer but found only a message from Theo asking him to bring in a takeaway after work. He instantly felt guilty.The cloak-and-dagger nature of the meeting with their father disgusted him, and he felt like he’d sold out. Was Aria right about his moral compass being way off? Perhaps he’d lost sight of what true north was. He needed to get back there asap.
23
Arriving at the Lakeland house she’d been contracted to work on, Aria stood hopelessly in the grounds. Had all this foliage sprung up since her last visit, or had she been so caught up in her problems she hadn’t surveyed it properly in the first place? She took another tour of the land, deciding to make a list of everything that needed doing so she could work out what to tackle first. The sun was filtering through a tall silver birch as she pulled up the notes in her phone and began to type. By the time she’d walked through the third garden, the cursory list she’d made for her boss had doubled in length. Bullet points like ‘clear the paths’ now had ten bullet points of their own. Take this path. It was narrow, and the greenery spilled from the flower bed onto the stone. Taller plants had been placed at the edge while the shrubs and flowers were getting no light, and all of it was neglected. She’d need to rip plants out and move them. This wasn’t an ideal time of year, as work like that should have been done months ago, but she had no choice. Elsewhere, she could see the designer hadthought things through. The hostas were studded with alliums which would prevent the slugs eating them, and were planted in such a way you only saw the purple flowers and not dead leaves. The whole thing gave off secret-garden vibes, each section revealing itself as Aria walked around. She continued to make notes as she strolled, keeping Tiger close to prevent him weeing on the delphiniums, geraniums and geums. Hedges were too high and leggy and would need cutting back. The rose bushes over the arches needed training. The grass was full of moss and the biggest fountain was clogged thick with mud and needed draining and shovelling out. In addition, the box had blight, by the look of it, and in certain places nettles were taking over. Removing her jacket, she picked up the bag of tools she’d brought with her and lifted out the shears. Checking for birds’ nests, she started to trim the ivy. Two hours later, she looked around for a way to transport the clippings to the compost pile behind the kitchen. She found only a tiny wheelbarrow and soon discovered why. The paths and gates were so narrow you couldn’t get anything bigger through. Aria piled ivy onto the stunted barrow, realising with a sinking heart she’d have to use the miniature carrier to transport soil, mulch, stones and all the other products she’d be layering on or carting off the soil. After breaking to walk Tiger, she considered tackling couch grass that had become entangled with weed, before beginning the horrible job of sorting out the stream that ran through two of the gardens. Fed by a pump, it was filled with rounded pebbles coated in rotten leaves and mud. Each would need hand-washing which meant transporting them to clean water. By six o’clock in the evening, her hands were rough as sandpaper, she felt dehydrated, and she still had to get herself home.
***
Over several rounds of cheesy toast on her rickety balcony, Aria tried to forget the demoralising day’s work by looking at the materials she’d pulled together about the lake. She considered her findings on chemical waste, erosion and run-off and felt pleased with herself. With Belinda’s help, she was putting together a stand for outdoor events and shows. She’d borrowed stats from organisations like Natural England and Fix the Fells, and planned a social media campaign using some of the footage Dad had sent her over the years showing the idyllic side of the lake as well as the issues. As she proofread a leaflet on her screen, she glanced up at Nic’s house. A desire to see him again tugged at her insides, but there were no signs of life up there. Part of her was tempted to agree to his crazy plan, to see how he really lived in that big house. And maybe she could influence him to see things her way and scale back plans for the housing estate. It was clear he represented everything her dad had fought against, everything she was continuing to fight against now, but he was an intelligent man. He had a commanding presence in a room and could hold an argument quite eloquently. He also had wit and a good sense of humour – she enjoyed how his crinkling smile spread to a wide grin, his dark eyes shining with merriment when he was amused. The line of his jaw when he was determined about something told her he had inner strength, and her gutfeeling was that somewhere beneath all that patter and ambition was a social conscience. Would she be insane to consider moving in with him? She looked around, taking in the leaking roof and the half dug up garden, and knew she wasn’t insane for wanting to escape her financial worries for a week or two. Sitting down in her favourite chair, she re-read the article in the local paper about her campaign. For the second time, she wept at the quote from Dad she’d given them during the interview.‘A lake isn’t water, it’s life.’Next to her article there was a feature about the new sponsor and prize of the Spring into Summer Swim, with a gorgeous picture of Nic. He hadn’t been in touch since making that ludicrous offer and she secretly hoped he’d be at the swim tomorrow. Despite herself, she fancied him. And she’d reluctantly come to realise the neighbourhood felt lonelier without him.
24
They had arrived late in the night, Nic’s father complaining about everything from the traffic to the quality of the motorway services. In the morning, Nic let Giorgos sleep while he fixed his protein shake and drank it on the balcony. He looked down the hill for Aria before remembering she was taking part in the swim. She’d probably be on her way there by now. As they should be too. His father finally appeared, failed to comment on either the house or the view, and demanded a breakfast that wasn’t pulped.
‘Want a tour of the land before we go?’ Nic asked, as he fished some granary bread out of the freezer.
‘Maybe later. I’ll borrow those wellington boots of yours. You seem to have turned into the shooting-and-fishing type, judging from all the clobber at the front door.’
Nic remembered Aria’s criticism of his ‘office shoes’ and smiled, hoping that, despite her silence, she was considering his offer. He was still sure it was a win for both of them.
***
‘I took a good look at the plans. The marina will bring them in,’ Giorgos announced from the passenger seat as they drove to the event. ‘In my experience, if you hook the yacht owners, the money will follow.’
