Freya North 3-Book Collection: Love Rules, Home Truths, Pillow Talk. Freya North
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his neck.
‘Miss Luckmore,’ the estate agent was saying, ‘will Cohen & Howard be handling the sale of your property too? We do have an office in Muswell Hill – and market share in N10, N8, N22.’
‘We would consider it,’ Saul butted in, enunciating his vowels an octave lower than Thea had heard before, ‘for a drop in your commission to 1 per cent, bearing in mind that you’ll be handling the sale of my property and most probably arranging our purchase too.’ Thea didn’t mind that Saul had answered for her. She found it quite touching. Plus he was saving her 1.5 per cent which would probably pay for an IKEA kitchen. ‘If we can agree on such a commission,’ Saul was saying, ‘you may have both premises to market.’
‘Immediately?’ the agent asked with a lip-lick of gleeful anticipation.
Saul and Thea looked at each other. Saul raised an eyebrow and a smile broadened. Thea bit her lip – not with reservations but to quell a rising chirp of excitement. ‘Immediately,’ Thea told the agent.
She and Saul left the office with a clutch of property particulars and, with arms linked and a skip to their stride, headed for Patisserie Valerie on Marylebone High Street to peruse the details over coffee and cake. For a day devoted to the exposing of fools, April 1st for Saul and Thea was proving to be a day in which they were making some very wise moves. Saul put his arm around Thea’s waist and pulled her close to him, giving her a smacking kiss to her temple. She beamed up at him. ‘I’m so excited!’ She started babbling about Shaker-style kitchens and granite worktops and Smeg fridges in retro pink. She enthused about Purves & Purves for rugs, that she’d seen Mies van der Rohe style Barcelona chairs on the web for a bargain. With a footstool and no delivery charge. Perhaps in cream. ‘Designers Guild for fabrics!’ she exclaimed. ‘And can we buy a superking-size bed? I love Farrow & Ball paint colours.’ She was hopping and weaving in her excitement. ‘Bridgewater!’ she beamed, standing outside the eponymous shop. ‘Oh my God, I adore her crockery.’ A few steps later, Thea was darting over the road and pulling Saul into the White Company. ‘Divine!’ she repeated as she ran her hands lightly over the stacks of linen. ‘Let’s make the bedroom a peaceful haven of muted tones. Mushroom. Ecru. Flax. Calico. Vanilla.’
‘His and Hers waffle towelling robes?’ Saul suggested, twirling one against himself, his gentle sarcasm totally lost on Thea.
‘Actually,’ she replied artlessly, ‘the Conran Shop’s the place for bathrobes – we could look at prices after we’ve had tea.’
Even an old-fashioned homewares shop caught Thea’s attention as they strolled on and she enthused about their exhaustive range of Vileda mops and accessories. Jabbering on about cream carpets, Venetian mirrors and terracotta chimineas for patios, she danced in front of Saul so that he almost tripped, wrapping her arms around his neck and standing slightly on tiptoes to kiss and kiss him some more. Calmly, he encircled her waist with his arms, lifted her up and continued to walk towards Patisserie Valerie while Thea laughed and embraced him as he carried her.
‘Oh here, this is for you,’ Saul said. ‘It’s only silver – but I thought it was very you. The jeweller is Ian’s sister.’
Outside Waitrose, Thea looked at the ring. It was inscribed.
∞ I have spread my dreams under your feet ∞
‘Tread softly because you tread on my dreams,’ Thea said quietly, completing the stanza. She loved that Yeats poem. She looked at Saul, elated, awash with love and brimful of excitement for their future. Their dreams were shared, their future spread ahead. For Thea, not even the most sumptuous wedding in the world, or the most gorgeous flat on the market, or the most expensive ring from Tiffany, could actually better the dizzying happiness she felt just then.
‘Well done, mate,’ Richard said to Saul, slipping his racquet into its cover.
‘But you slaughtered me,’ Saul laughed as they headed from the court to the showers.
‘I meant about Thea, you prat!’ Richard said with a friendly shove. ‘Sally told me you’re buying a little love nest together.’
‘We’ve signed up our flats with Cohen & Howard,’ Saul called over the shower cubicle.
‘Wise,’ Richard affirmed. ‘Did they drop their commission?’
‘You bet,’ Saul said, ‘I mean, both properties should be a doddle to sell. And we both bought at the right time.’
‘Well, if you need an architect,’ Richard laughed.
‘Discount?’ Saul joshed, grabbing a towel and throwing one to Richard.
‘Yeah, right,’ Richard laughed. ‘Anyway, what are you looking for and where?’
‘I thought I’d have a tough job suggesting Thea relinquish her Crouch End affections,’ Saul mused, ‘but actually she’s really into the idea of central London.’
‘There are some great developments near Covent Garden,’ Richard informed him, ‘the Drury Lane end. I know of one not yet released – I could try and organize a viewing.’
‘That would be cool,’ Saul thanked him, ‘I know Thea likes the idea of Bloomsbury too. But she’s seen too many Merchant Ivory films.’
‘I have to say, the area you’re in at the moment is fabulous,’ Richard commented, heading out from the changing room.
‘I’ll drink to that,’ said Saul, clanging shut the locker and following him out of the changing room.
‘You’ll drink to me trouncing you at squash first,’ Richard laughed over his shoulder, as they headed for the bar, ‘and then we’ll drink to you and Thea.’
‘And then we’ll wet your baby’s head,’ Saul elaborated.
‘And then we’ll raise a glass to my wife,’ Richard said.
‘I can’t believe we haven’t been out to celebrate Juliette’s birth,’ Saul marvelled, ‘we must be talking four months or so.’
‘Christ, I had to negotiate hard with Sally, let me tell you,’ Richard sighed. ‘I get tonight off only on the guarantee of a midnight curfew and the assurance of only mild wooziness as opposed to utter inebriation. And she’s factored into the equation a lie-in on Saturday and her own night out with Thea and Alice next Wednesday.’
‘She drives a tough bargain, your wife,’ Saul commented, raising his glass to her nonetheless.
‘I have my two beautiful girls,’ Richard declared with a happy shrug, ‘they have me wrapped around their little fingers – but I’m a pretty happy captive.’
Hullo, little home. Hullo, my little slice of Lewis Caroll Living. I’ve entrusted you to some wide-boy estate agent with a dodgy goatee beard. Lance from Cohen & Howard’s Muswell Hill office. He says you’ll be a breeze to sell. And I have no idea why I feel guilty. Like I’m abandoning you to some unknown fate, like I’m turning my back on you after all the security you’ve given me. But I like to think of some other Thea chancing upon you, living here and loving it until life moves her along too. Saul says I mustn’t become emotional about selling. I walloped him for that – what a daft thing to say. Of course it’ll be an emotional process. Do you know he says it would be better for me not to meet potential purchasers? He ganged up with Lance on that one. Saul says he knows me, he says if potential purchasers don’t live up to my exacting expectations, I won’t sell to them even if they offer the asking price. But to me, that’s obvious – to him, that’s daft. Lance looked horrified.
This home is an extension of me – an expression of who I am and how I’ve been; a living photo album, an entire diary of my last five years. All the things these walls have seen! All the comfort I’ve felt here, the safety of it all – the stains from my tears, the marks of my happiness. I could write a novel about it! I can’t possibly sell to someone who won’t love this place as I have.