‘What’s the matter?’ she asks and as he looks down on her upturned face, he sees the look of hurt in her eyes, all the cocksure confidence wiped clean. God, he thinks, she’s just a kid. Albeit a spoilt, precocious one.
Gently, he pushes her away before turning to do up his flies.
‘Nothing,’ he says. ‘It’s not you, it’s me. Must be because I’m on work territory. Can’t get the thought of your parents out ofmy head.’ He gives a half-hearted laugh, then takes her chin in his hand and lifts it up again. ‘You’re lovely. Now, how about you give me one of those cigarettes of yours and we can go up and sit on the roof. I’m sure we can risk it at this time of night.’
‘The roof?’ she says in a small curious voice no longer so thick and husky.
‘Well, the scaffolding, anyway. I reckon if we’re careful we could sit outside and shoot the breeze for a bit. And you can tell me all about how your mum and dad don’t understand you.’
Bella gives a small huff followed by a sheepish smile.
‘Okay, why not? I did bring refreshments.’ With this, she produces a bottle of vodka from her shoulder bag.
‘Good girl,’ says Marcus. ‘Now you’re talking.’ He takes her hand to guide her upstairs and he knows she must find it romantic. ‘This way. Watch out for that. That’s it, just follow me.’
She allows him to lead her through and up the house, feeling their way in the dark, following the sound of each other’s voices. Eventually they reach the upper floor and Marcus heaves up one of the old sash windows and steps out onto the landing board of the scaffolding.
‘So, you’re freelance yeah? A one-man band?’ asks Bella, inching out of the window after him. ‘Something of a lone wolf,’ she adds with a giggle.
‘You could say that,’ answers Marcus into the dark as he settles his back against the wall, well away from the edge.
‘So, why did my dad choose you as his architect?’ she asks. ‘He usually does everything by the book. I’m surprised he didn’t go with some big fancy London firm.’
‘Ah well, Bella,’ he says playfully. ‘In truth, I chose him, really. You see, I’ve actually known your father for a very long time.’
‘Really? How?’
‘Oh, we go way back. It’s a long story that I won’t bore you with now. But safe to say he’s the wolf, not me. A wolf in sheep’s clothing anyway.’
‘Oh ha ha! Like I haven’t heard that joke about a million times already. I went to a private school you know. It’s always your name – the thing other kids pick on first.’
‘And is your father notorious in those circles too?’
She eyes him steadily.
‘Not really. No more than most other rich dads who are self-made men, I suppose.’
Marcus turns away, hiding his annoyance with a pull on the vodka bottle.
‘No, in truth, I expect I’m all your dad can afford. I’m cheap in comparison. All the expertise without the overheads. A bargain, in fact.’
‘Sounds about right. My dad has always been careful with his money. Well, he used to be until he bought this dump. Are you sure it’s safe out here?’ asks Bella, dangling her legs precariously over the edge of the wooden board, one arm hooked around a metal pole.
‘Yes, of course. Safe as houses,’ quips Marcus. ‘I’m building it, aren’t I?’
‘Well no, those hairy-arsed locals are. You just came up with the pretty drawings.’
‘You are very outspoken aren’t you, for one so young?’
She sniggers again.
‘My father’s daughter. Anyway, you better make sure this place is the shit. My parents have got a lot riding on it.’
‘Oh, I know how important this is to your mum. Trust me.’
Bella tuts.
‘No, it’s not just about her. She takes it all for granted and has no idea what’s really at stake. My dad’s sunk everything into this house. His life savings, the lot.’
