‘No. He is not actually. I’m doing it with my own money. And I’d appreciate it if you’d keep that information to yourself for now.’
Bella smirks and Olivia immediately regrets confiding in her but then her daughter turns to her.
‘Well, good for you, Mum. Have to say, I didn’t think you had it in you anymore. But well done. That’s really great.’
Olivia reclines, glowing from the praise. It is so rare for her daughter to seem genuinely pleased for her, with hardly even a touch of snark to spoil the compliment.
‘What about you, sweetie? Any exciting future plans? Career goals? What about your love life? Seeing anyone special right now?’
‘Oh my God. Nobody says that anymore.’
‘What?’
‘Love life. Cringe.’
‘All right then. Have you “hooked up” with anyone lately?’
Bella makes a loud groaning noise and covers her eyes. One of the beauty therapists looks up from where she is tidying a cupboard and smiles and then looks away again. Olivia feels herself blush.
‘Well, what then?’
Her daughter gives one of her most extravagant sighs, tossing her hair to one side in a way that reminds Olivia of a chestnut pony she once had as a child.
‘No significant other right now, if you must know. Just casual with a guy I met recently.’
‘Oh, really?’ asks Olivia, her senses on high alert suddenly, her maternal radar sounding. ‘How casual?’ she adds with a wrinkle of her nose.
‘Just friends with benefits,’ replies Bella and replaces her earbuds, signalling that this cosy mother and daughter chat is now over.
24
Tobias is about to head for some lunch when he hears the sound of a large lorry pulling up outside the property. It looks like a delivery from a specialist kitchen company, some place that Olivia and Marcus had chosen between them, and which he vaguely remembers signing off on months ago. As far as he’s aware though, they weren’t scheduled to deliver for another two weeks.
The lorry is clearly far too big for these small coastal roads, he sees. God knows how the driver got it down here – by slavishly following his satnav, no doubt. But he has managed it somehow. Although the lorry is now firmly blocking the road so that no other vehicles can pass from either direction. And it is not long before the sounds of angry and impatient car horns can be heard.
‘Bill,’ he shouts, thundering downstairs to the ground floor level. He finds his foreman already traipsing down the garden, out towards the lorry, and Tobias follows on in quick pursuit.
The driver has shut off the engine now and is opening the back of the vehicle. He hands an iPad to Bill who is angling it this way and that in the sunshine, trying to read the screen.
‘Just do a squiggle in the signature box to confirm delivery.’
‘You’ll do no such thing,’ commands Tobias and he takes the iPad from Bill who looks relieved to relinquish it. ‘This lot wasn’t due for another couple of weeks. We’ve only just got the first fix done.’
The driver checks his phone to verify something.
‘Email notification sent to an Olivia Woolf to advise we were able to deliver ahead of schedule, which was confirmed by recipient.’
‘What? That’s the first I’ve heard. Christ. Where is that bloody architect? I ask you, what is the point of hiring these people if they’re not around when you need them?’
As if conjuring him from thin air, he sees Marcus’s tall muscular figure break into a jog, passing the tailgate of cars that is now accumulating behind the lorry.
‘What’s this doing here?’ asks Marcus, tilting his head towards the lorry, which is emblazoned with a logo that reads: Tavistock & Jones.
‘I might ask you the same thing.’
‘The kitchen isn’t meant to be fitted for another fortnight at least.’
Tobias plants his hands on his hips and looks pointedly at the driver again who merely shrugs.
