Читать книгу A Summer to Remember - Виктория Коннелли, Victoria Connelly - Страница 11

‘I think it best if you see the study first, don’t you?’ Olivia asked, leading the way out of the living room. Nina turned to look at Dominic, whose face was now quite red.

‘Wish me luck!’ she whispered excitedly.

‘Good luck,’ he said with a tiny smile.

Olivia marched Nina along the corridor. The study was at the front of the house and, when Olivia opened the door, Nina had to stop herself from laughing out loud at the sight that greeted her.

Up until then, Nina had believed that Hilary Jackson was the most disorganised person to be put in charge of an office, but that was before she’d seen this room. In her four years of babysitting at the mill, she’d never ventured into this part of the house, and she could now understand why nobody had encouraged her to do so.

The room had one floor-skimming window overlooking the sweep of driveway, and patio doors on the other side that looked out over a lawn as immaculate as a billiard table. But it was what lay in between that made Nina nervous.

Two large wooden desks lay like felled oaks at right angles to one another, and a yellow sofa stretched alongside the biggest bookcase Nina had ever clapped eyes on. Every available surface, though, was completely covered with great mounds of paper and files that threatened to topple and cascade onto the carpet, which itself had its fair share of papers stacked in precarious piles. It was as if a whole army of Hilary Jacksons had been let loose in the room.

Nina’s eyes widened as she tried to take in the scene, desperately searching for some sort of filing cabinet or stack of in-trays: any sign that order could be restored to the room. She looked at Olivia who smiled a very tiny smile and shrugged her shoulders.

‘You see what I mean – chaos! Absolute chaos.’ She’d started up with the bracelet-twiddling again. ‘I know it’s a lot to ask, but you would get a good hourly rate and you could stay here if you want. I mean, I’m sure you’ve got your own place, but you’d be very welcome here. But I should mention that Dudley probably wouldn’t agree to more than a couple of months – to begin with. Just until you both find a routine with each other. He obviously needs help getting everything into some sort of order and keeping it that way. Then there’ll be the typing duties for the book he’s writing, and he’s been making noises about help with his research, too. I don’t think it’ll be anything too onerous – just a bit of reading and note-taking really,’ Olivia said, chewing her glossy lips anxiously.

Nina nodded. It sounded absolutely blissful to her. A bit of tidying, a bit of typing and a little light reading. She scoured the room again, noticing the coating of dust on the backs of the chairs and along the pictures that lined the walls. A sorry-looking Swiss cheese plant slouched in a dark corner, in dire need of a drink, and dozens of empty envelopes were scattered like dead leaves on the floor. A computer sat on the floor under the far window, its screen turned away from onlookers as though trying to avoid attention.

Then there was the paperwork: great mountains of the stuff, untouched by human hands for what looked like decades. This was more a job for a large team of archaeologists rather than a solitary secretary.

It was certainly different – but wasn’t that just what she was after, Nina reasoned?

‘I should warn you, though,’ Olivia said, ‘my husband can be—’ she paused, ‘erm, a little difficult to work with.’ Her face twisted into a strange expression.

‘Difficult?’ Nina said. ‘I’ve done difficult before – believe me.’

‘But I’m sure you’d be able to cope with Dudley’s little ways. It’s just part of the creative temperament, you see, and we’d all be so grateful. We’ve always felt so comfy with you, Nina,’ Olivia said warmly. ‘It would be lovely to have you here again.’

Nina smiled. She wasn’t used to such flattery. It would be hard work, but not impossible, and surely Dudley couldn’t possibly be worse to work with than Hilary Jackson. She remembered him from the days when she used to babysit. Sure, he had a bit of a temper, but she didn’t think it was anything she couldn’t handle and besides, she needed to be occupied at the moment; she needed to find an escape. After being with the wrong man and the wrong boss for an inexcusable length of time, she needed a change, and it looked as if she just might have found it.

‘I’d be happy to help in any way I can,’ Nina said. She held out her hand and Olivia beamed, taking it in hers and shaking it vigorously.

‘Oh, Nina! That is wonderful. Really wonderful!’ Olivia enthused.

‘I just have one question,’ Nina said.

‘Yes?’ Olivia sounded a little nervous.

‘When do I start?’

Dominic scratched his head as he looked down at Nina’s teacup. If the blue and white china hadn’t been sporting a smudge of pink lipstick, he might well have believed that he’d just invented an entire scene in which his mother had asked Nina to stay at the mill. But there it was. Pink lipstick; as bright as the Norfolk Broads’ daylight.

Dominic smiled as he remembered the tickle of her hair as she’d bent over him to help him with his homework that time. He’d been eleven years old and she’d spent twenty minutes reading through a comprehension and helping him to answer the questions, but he hadn’t heard a single word. Well, he’d heard her; the soft lilt in her voice, the way it rose so beautifully in the middle of a question and the melancholy tenderness with which she read the story; he just hadn’t heard any of the answers.

His teacher had given him two out of ten.

But, as with most childhood crushes, she’d been placed, very firmly, in the back of his mind as he’d grown up – the image of her fading over time, along with those intense boyhood feelings he’d had for her.

So why then did he now feel as if he’d swallowed a snake? His insides were wriggling about in a most disconcerting way. Ten long years separated him from those feelings – yet he could still recall them, and that made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t still harbour feelings for her, could he? He didn’t even know Nina. He had never really known her. But that, in its own way, had been part of her appeal. She’d always been rather elusive; like a movie star whom you can dream about, but whom you’ll never meet. It would be completely irrational to think he was in love with her. It would be utterly insane to suggest that the old feelings could just bob back up to the surface in the space of a smile and a hello.

Wouldn’t it?

He took a glance in the mirror and his eyes widened with horror. He’d suspected he might look like an extra from a low-budget horror film, but it didn’t prepare him for the reality. No wonder Nina had been smiling at him so much. He looked hilarious. Like Groucho Marx after an electric shock.

He shook his head in despair and left the mill before Nina could clap eyes on him again.

When Nina finally got home, she looked around her flat and smiled at the peeling wallpaper with the damp patch in the shape of Italy. She’d wasted many fruitless hours trying to cover it up with a succession of posters and cheap prints in frames, but the thing had merely spread to enormous proportions.

She smiled down at the ancient carpet that was so hard underfoot that you could grate cheese on it. She smiled as she heard her neighbour revving up the motorbike he’d been fixing in his kitchen for the last four months, and she grinned widely as she smelt the familiar waft of curry, courtesy of her other neighbours, through the air vent in the open-plan kitchen. This had been her home for the last two years, and she was smiling because she was leaving it forever.

She knew it would be reckless to give up her little place, but she meant to continue as she’d started – if she really wanted to get her life back on track she was going to throw caution to the wind and leave it for good anyway. Determination fuelled her, and a sudden sense of calm and purpose filled her. She was getting good at leaving things recently. This could very well be the new Nina, the new direction, the new way forward that she’d been looking for, she thought.

The flat had come fully furnished, so Nina only had a few personal belongings to pack up and, if at the end of the summer she couldn’t find a new place to rent, she could always make do with Janey’s futon until she got on her feet again.

‘Goodbye mouldy wallpaper!’ she yelled as her neighbour revved his motorbike. ‘Good riddance crumbling windowsill!’ And, just for old times’ sake, she pressed a finger into the woodwork and the paint flaked away under her touch.

‘Farewell clanging pipes!’ she sang, deciding to put the radio on; it was one of the few things in the flat that actually belonged to her. She’d pack her things, tidy around and get out of there, taking her keys to her landlord the very next morning, and then she’d take the bus out to The Old Mill House, walking down the potholed lane to a place where she felt truly welcome.

Olivia was absolutely delighted. She was also rather anxious. It had been a great shock losing ‘Teri with an i’, and Olivia had no intention whatsoever of losing Nina – although she doubted she would, as she remembered how well Nina and her husband had got on in the past. Still, she’d have a word with Dudley about the situation and make sure he behaved himself and that he was especially nice to Nina. She knew all too well that he could be brusque once the creative mood took hold, but he had to be warned that it would be at his own peril. Poor Teri used to surface from the study positively shaking after her encounters with Dudley – her face pale and her eyes wide in terror.

‘I can take dictation, but I won’t take being dictated to!’ she’d once cried, before grabbing her bag and leaving. Olivia had been left to sort the mess out, appeasing Teri by telling her that the creative muse could take many a strange form and that it took a special sort of person to handle it, and that Teri was obviously one in a million. And the flattery had worked. Well, for two further weeks anyway, before the next verbal volcano had erupted. Dudley, of course, had denied all knowledge of why Teri had left, although Olivia believed that there was more to it than just her husband’s temperamental nature.

Anyway, she wasn’t going to let it happen again. She wandered back into her husband’s secret domain and trailed a finger over one of the few empty spaces on the desk before inspecting it. Just as she thought: it was as if she’d dipped it into a sack of flour. Dudley hated having anyone invade his special place, but Olivia was quite determined that she’d get Marie in with the vacuum and dusters before Nina started work the next day. Anything to help make Nina’s job easier. After all, Nina would have Dudley’s mood swings to cope with, a study that looked as if a tornado had passed through it, plus the three boys hanging around the house for most of the summer. There was no guarantee that she’d like it, let alone actually stay. But then again, miracles were known to happen.