Читать книгу The Wedding Planner - Eve Devon - Страница 13

Seth

Seth Knightley stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist, and automatically took a step back as he lifted the bathroom door gently to aid opening it.

He’d only needed one close encounter with the ‘slicing zone’, the first morning he’d moved back into his childhood home, for his toes to remember the danger.

Muscle memory was weird, he thought, remembering how at sixteen, after the family dog had sadly departed this world, it had taken him months to stop taking that extra-wide step every time he got up off the sofa so that he didn’t accidentally step on his old faithful friend, Digger.

He eased a hand across the old familiar ache in his heart. He hadn’t thought about Digger in years.

Probably something about this place because speaking of weird, a few months living back at Knightley Hall and all he’d done was think.

About things.

All the things.

Okay, let’s get real. This place might provide the perfect ruminating ambiance but it was signing the divorce papers that had brought about that perfect trifecta of cogitation also known as: thinking about the past, present and future.

A necessary but hard task since all the work he’d put in over the years to deliberately shut-down philosophising on life’s hard questions.

Life was too short and at twenty Seth had learned the hard truth – that sometimes there were no reasons for what went down. You just had to look forward and get through, collecting as little shrapnel as possible.

The approach had served him well until at twenty-eight, finding himself at the end of something that hadn’t worked right from the beginning … probably because of too little thinking on his part, he’d been forced to conclude that going forward it might help to find out where he stood on the really big things.

Escaping the cloud of steam from the bathroom, he headed back to his room, bumping straight into his brother, Jake, in the hallway.

‘Going somewhere?’ Jake asked.

Seth shoved hair that was not quite as long and was shades lighter than his brother’s raven-coloured-brooding-Poldark-look back from his face and considered his answer.

Actually he had two places to be – the first place on account of now knowing where he stood on the really big things and the second place … yeah … there was no way it needed to get out how he made his living these days.

He had time before he needed to be at either though and contributing free labour around the place was, for the time being, the only way Seth could help out.

‘You want me to drive that framework for the courtyard garden over to The Clock House?’ he asked. It had been hard, sweaty work loading the iron fret-work Jake had designed onto one of Oscar’s flat-bed trucks so that it could be installed in the courtyard garden of the clock house later that week. Seth knew Jake was miffed about the project being badly delayed but he really hoped his brother wasn’t heading down there this afternoon to get a head-start on the installation. He’d been counting on Jake working in the gardens here, so that he could go to the clock house himself. He had a desk booked at Hive @ The Clock House and it was going to be hard enough to avoid all the curious looks, without Jake wading in with blunt questions as to what he was doing.

‘No need, I’ll do it tomorrow,’ Jake answered. ‘So have you got a job interview or something, then?’

Irritation wormed its way under Seth’s usual happy-go-lucky demeanour. That particular question came out of his brother’s mouth more often than the summer’s hit was played on the radio and played in his ear like the worst kind of ear-worm. If he had his way he’d be working here at Knightley Hall, not necessarily drawing a salary yet, but definitely recognised as part of the team.

But in order to be part of the team what he really needed to do was nail the presentation he was working on.

It was as simple and as difficult as that.

Simple because selling, whether it be a country estate, or a trip to the dentist, was supposed to be right in his wheelhouse, and so who was he if he couldn’t sell Jake on the idea this place could work harder for him, rather than the other way around?

Difficult because ever since he’d lost his job as a sales negotiator for an independent estate agency specialising in large manor house sales and got divorced, and ended up back at Knightley Hall sleeping in his old childhood room, he’d been somewhat off his game.

Not that he’d let anyone notice enough to comment on the fact. Well, except for maybe Gloria, he thought. But they were friends now and besides, her super-power was zeroing right in on a person’s weakness. He was just fortunate that lately she’d chosen to use her powers for good, rather than evil.

He didn’t think anyone other than her had worked out his confidence had sort of gone for a Burton and he’d like to keep it that way, even if it meant he had to resort to faking it until he made it.

And practising.

Practising a lot.

Because upon doing the hard thinking, he’d found to his amazement, that what he really believed in was Knightley Hall and what his brother, Jake, was trying to do here.

Since Christmas, watching his brother get up every single morning at Ungodly-Hour and work tirelessly to get the gardens ready to open to the public it had begun to sink in what this place offered and what he could offer back.

When he and Joanne had separated moving back here had been convenient even if bunking down in his old room and having to acknowledge he’d come full-circle hadn’t exactly made him feel stellar. Something about the freedom to think instead of simply taking up the next opportunity though, together with the honest hard work outdoors, had worked their considerable charm, and now?

Well, it was affirming to have something new to believe in.

Healing to discover he could make a home here.

Be a part of something bigger here.

Make a difference.

He just needed to convince Jake he was going to need someone with sales experience to drive the public to the gardens when they opened and to keep them coming back.

Seth was that person. He knew it. He felt it. He wanted it. Hell, he needed it.

‘You could say it’s job-related,’ Seth answered unsurprised to see his brother’s eyebrows this time draw down into a frown. He felt the pressure to get Jake on-board with his latest idea for generating income for the Hall mix with the pressure to get Jake to believe in him at all. ‘Look, are you going to be in later tonight?’ He’d deliver his presentation and Jake would see.

‘I guess I could make sure I am,’ Jake replied, his tone cautious, his dark eyes suspicious.

‘Good. I have something I want to run past you.’

Jake released a short, tired breath. ‘I knew it. If this is another one of your quick money-making schemes for the Hall, I’m too busy.’

‘Well, thanks bro. You know if you actually listened without the prejudice of seeing me only as the baby of the family—’

‘I’d what?’ Jake wanted to know. ‘I’d have approved the naturist glamping idea? Because who doesn’t want to worry about nakedness and treading on a garden tool and law-suits? Or what about the forest bathing retreat idea?’

Seth shook his head sadly. ‘I can’t believe you actually thought people would be flinging off their clothes and going full-moon feral in the woods.’

‘And let’s not forget the donkey sanctuary?’

‘Again – the fact that you could have pictured nakedness being a part of that … have you considered there might be help available for you—’

‘The falconry …’ Jake mentioned, ignoring Seth.

‘Hey, falconry is really in right now. People pay lots of money to have giant birds of prey swoop over their head and shave years off their life and it’s not a naked thing, it’s a majestic thing.’

‘Actually the falconry idea wasn’t totally awful,’ Jake admitted. ‘But do you have any idea how much outlay we’d be looking at to introduce even one of those plans at the Hall?’

‘I do actually. I wrote the cost-analysis reports you didn’t bother looking at. You know, I may be your kid brother but I’m not an actual kid anymore. I get it. You want to open the gardens to the public. You want to get married. You don’t have any money—’

‘What the hell?’ Jake bellowed, all patience immediately leaving the building faster than you could say Elvis already had. ‘I have money,’ he insisted, folding his arms. ‘Of course there’s money. Enough to support the Hall and get married.’

Damn.

The whole I need a dollar, dollar, a dollar is what I need subject was about as welcome a refrain around here as Seth having to hear the Have you got a job interview?

But this was why Jake was walking around so moody lately, wasn’t it? This was why he and Emma were both being so remarkably chill on finalising all those wedding details?

At first Seth had thought the pair of them keeping schtum about their wedding plans was out of deference to his divorce coming through but after a while he’d begun to worry it was something else. Jake had been engaged once before and as far as Seth knew his brother had his priorities set right this time. Accept there were no wedding plans forthcoming and when Seth wasn’t working flat-out he was wondering why that was.

‘I know the garden designing brings in a fair whack,’ he said now, standing his ground, needing for his brother to see he got the whole picture. ‘Just like I know this place eats up whatever it’s fed and still complains of being hungry after. I also know it’s probably going to cost you the income you made last year just to get married.’

‘Seth, I was handling budgets when you were busy dropping out of uni, swanning around the world and getting married on a whim,’ Jake said, managing to convey a largess of patronisation that only big brothers were capable of.

Here we go, Seth thought. The old ‘You Dropped Out of Uni and Ever Since It’s Been One Dubious Decision After Another,’ lecture. And since he was never going to regret leaving uni when he did, he was damn sure he didn’t need to explain his reasoning to his big brother, who, while enjoying acting like a parent; wasn’t. ‘So come on then,’ Seth said, telling himself to leave it. Telling himself not to have this conversation in the hallway while they were both tired. But then in the manner of muscle memory and brothers squaring off as brothers do, Seth promptly forgot his own advice to himself, copied Jake in folding his arms stubbornly across his chest, and said, ‘How much do you think the average wedding costs these days? I don’t need the full luxury package,’ he assured, ‘just give me the ballpark on the church, smallish reception and honeymoon package?’

‘Why? Are you worried there won’t be enough left over to put food on the table while you continue to live here rent free?’

‘Like you don’t know I’ve been giving Emma money for the last four months,’ Seth’s pride was forced to remind his brother.

He saw the shock wash across Jake’s face. Emma hadn’t told him where the money was coming from? What the hell was that all about?

On the scent of the sale now and unwilling to let any ground he could make crumble to dust, he pressed, ‘So come on then, enlighten me … how much does the average wedding cost?’ Because he’d done the workings out and granted, his brother had been handling small contracts and obscenely large award-winning contracts for years as part of his garden-design work but this place was going to continue to eat as much as Jake and Emma made until it could start paying for itself and being the new owner of this place came with responsibilities – the type where you were expected to put on a show, not quietly elope.

Then there was the fact that sound travelled really easily in this old house. So it was virtually impossible not to have heard the late-night discussions about Jake not wanting either of Emma’s estranged parents financially contributing to the wedding.

‘Hang on a bloody minute,’ Jake insisted, ‘you’ve been giving Emma money every month? Where are you getting it from?’

Oops.

‘I got a job. You didn’t seriously imagine I would want to live off my big brother forever?’

‘You got a job?’

‘It’s casual.’

‘Of course it is.’

Seth puffed out his chest. ‘I don’t hear you complaining when it means I’m around to help you out around here.’

‘So what’s the big plan, then? I assume you have one? Only it’ll be good to know how long you intend on repaying me letting you work here for free by putting food on my table.’

His big plan?

His big plan was genius.

Low risk. High reward.

And had he mentioned genius?

His big plan was to use the professional-quality printer and video editing equipment at Hive @ The Clock House to print out all the photos he’d taken of Knightley Hall as full-colour A3 glossies and then finish up editing the video footage of the Hall before giving the marketing packet to his location scout contact.

His big plan was to get the location scout to fall in love with Knightley Hall and then recommend it to the film production company looking for the next place to shoot Merriweather Mysteries.

The amount of money they’d get for allowing two months of off-season filming a year for six episodes a series for as long as it took for the public to decide they no longer wanted to see their favourite thesps in pension-enhancing hamming-it-up blood-curdling cosy mystery roles set in bucolic Blighty, was a no-brainer.

Phase two of his plan was to present the idea to Jake in such a way that Jake gave the go-ahead and also, possibly, bestowed the word ‘genius’ upon him … so much more preferable than presenting his idea and ending up as inspiration for the next series of Merriweather Mysteries.

But he needed to be patient and do it right this time.

‘You can’t look after us all forever, Jake,’ he said, keeping his voice low and calm. ‘I know you’re the one who we all come to but what if my big plan is for you to get to enjoy this place? What if my big plan is for you to get to enjoy your marriage without money stuff getting in the way?’

Jake did the whole pinching-the-bridge-of-his-nose thing that meant he didn’t know whether to engage full big-brother superiority or show that he was more evolved than that. ‘Seth, it’s not your responsibility to worry about this. Emma and I are just fine.’

‘Are you?’ he cut in, searching his big brother’s face.

‘Of course we are,’ Jake asserted, ‘And now that we’ve set the date—’

‘You mean now Gloria’s set the date?’

He still couldn’t believe she’d succumbed to village pressure. Must be getting soft. But at least she’d actually affected a wedding discussion between Jake and Emma. Although, for arguments sake you should cross out the word discussion and replace it with argument. But if the noises coming out of the opposite wing of the house last night were any indications, they’d definitely made up afterwards, so, ‘Good one, Glor,’ he thought.

‘It will still be our choice,’ Jake said, handily ignoring Gloria’s contribution to their wedding planning. ‘Mine and Emma’s, what we spend on our wedding.’

‘But wouldn’t it be great if you had more choice than you thought? Look,’ he paused, drew in a breath and managed to hold back on the frustration. ‘Just be around tonight – both of you – so that I can run my idea past you. Okay?’

‘Fine.’

Seth didn’t know what Jake saw in his eyes to finally have him backing down, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know if it happened to be desperation, so he turned around and headed back to his room to get dressed, pausing only when Jake said casually, ‘Hey? Return the favour for me and make sure you’re around tomorrow evening?’

‘Tomorrow?’ Seth automatically turned around.

‘For dinner. It’s what I came up to ask you. We’re celebrating.’

‘We are?’

Jake’s grin was ironic. ‘Well, Gloria has now set the date!’