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‘Just revisiting some old haunts.’ Nicola helped herself to bacon and scrambled egg from the chafing dishes on the sideboard. ‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ she added politely to Miss Latimer as she returned to the table, receiving a sniff in return.
She too felt like sniffing when she realised who was sitting opposite.
‘You must have been up at the crack of dawn, like Zac,’ said Nicola. ‘He’s already been for a swim this morning.’ She shuddered. ‘Such energy.’
‘Perhaps he likes having the pool to himself,’ said Eddie.
‘On the contrary,’ Zac said softly. ‘At one point, I hoped I might have company, but, sadly, it was not to be.’
For a moment, his eyes rested reflectively on Dana, who swiftly lowered her own gaze to her plate, but not before she’d registered the angry mark like a scratch on his cheekbone where she’d struck out at him the previous night.
Good, she thought savagely. I hope you’re scarred for life.
Her breakfast had totally lost its attraction but she forced herself to eat, cutting her bacon into very small pieces and wishing that it was Zac under her knife. She was burning with the knowledge that he’d seen her at the Orangery, and, at the same time, aching with the necessity to show no reaction.
Mrs Marchwood leaned forward. ‘Working for Jarvis Stratton, Dana, you must meet some fascinating people.’
Dana smiled. ‘The job has its moments, but what I enjoy most is matching the person to the property. Finding each client somewhere they’re going to love.’
‘An estate agent who is also a philanthropist?’ Zac queried with deceptive gentleness. ‘A unique combination—but we must not forget the commission you earn.’
‘I don’t,’ Dana countered flatly. ‘I too need to keep a roof over my head.’
‘Was selling property something you always wanted to do, my dear?’ Mrs Marchwood again.
Dana shook her head. ‘I got into it accidentally while I was still working as a mother’s help. My then employers had their house on the market, but were having trouble selling it.’
‘Because of the recession?’ asked Eddie.
‘Partly,’ Dana agreed. ‘But there were other factors too.’
‘Such as?’ Emily enquired.
Dana hesitated. Such as the asking price, she recalled ruefully, and presentation. Tess Jameson had not belonged to the blank canvas school of thought and liked her cluttered, untidy, intensely personal house just as it was.
She said carefully, ‘I felt that it was the husband who was pushing for a sale, not the wife. Her emotional investment in the house was much greater than his, and she’d made no attempt to detach herself. That can happen a lot.’
‘So what happened?’ asked Mr Marchwood.
‘The family had gone to stay with friends for the weekend, and Jarvis Stratton telephoned on Saturday morning to ask if they could come for an accompanied viewing in the afternoon. I—agreed.
‘I tidied round a little,’ she went on, glossing over the five frantic hours of decluttering and cleaning, including the bedding and curtains hastily washed, dried and replaced.
‘Jarvis Stratton always makes a point of being early, but this time they were late and, after half an hour, the clients were still waiting and getting restless. So, I offered to show them round, and they agreed.’
She shrugged. ‘I pretended to myself it was my house, a place I’d loved, where I’d been happy and which I was leaving with regret. And it must have worked, because when the agent turned up, having been stuck in traffic after an accident, the clients were talking seriously about an offer and told him I was a super saleswoman.
‘When they’d gone, he gave me his card and a contact name. The following week, I had a job.’
‘The girl with the golden touch,’ Zac commented sardonically. ‘And do you still follow the same policy? Pretending other peoples’ houses are yours to love?’
‘Why not?’ She looked back at him defiantly. ‘If it works.’
He nodded. ‘So how would you sell Mannion?’
‘I wouldn’t!’ Caught off guard, Dana knew at once she’d made the wrong response. She’d spoken too quickly and vehemently. Made it too personal.
Now she needed to retrieve the situation.
She smiled, shrugging. ‘Mannion is a country property which would be handled by a different department in the firm. Sadly, I wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near it,’ she added, pouring herself some coffee as Zac sat back, his expression ironic.
