From Paris With Love This Christmas

‘We’re not sharing a house,’ he bit out. ‘You are a temporary guest. Temporary. Got it—’ He stopped. ‘You have staff?’ No wonder she was so clueless.

She stiffened. He held up his hand in apology, it had come out sounding rather judgemental. ‘Sorry, even Will’s family never had real staff. All sounds a bit Downton Abbey.’

‘Hardly, times have changed.’ The innocent smile belied her tart words. ‘We even give the staff holidays these days.’

‘Right. Back to the rules. I’m out of the house by eight most mornings. You can use the bathroom after then.’

‘Trop d’honneur, merci!’

‘I suggest you learn to knock on the bathroom door if you don’t want any more surprises. You’ve probably realised there’s no lock on the door. I don’t mind sharing my instant coffee for the next couple of days but you’ll need to pitch in and buy milk and your own food. I’m going to be away for a couple of days, so if you’re booking your flight home, I can take you to the airport before or after then. Anything you need to know?’

‘I was wondering when I might get some clean towels.’

‘About the same time you put the dirty ones in the washing machine, I guess.’

Siena coloured and he felt like the kitten-kicker again, so he swallowed down his next comment. ‘If you bring them down, I’ll show you how the washing machine works. And the dishwasher. If you fill it up, put it on. If it’s full, empty it. All the usual.’ Was that a dumb thing to say? What was usual for her?

She was nodding like one of those crazy dogs in cars, so he assumed she was following.

‘So,’ he stood up and rinsed out his coffee mug. ‘When do you think you’ll be leaving?’

There it was again, the evasive study of her fingernails and the slight tension in her jaw.

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Are we talking not sure, tomorrow, or the end of the week?’

Siena opened her mouth and closed it again. ‘I need to speak to Laurie.’

It was doubtful Laurie would want her up in Yorkshire. She and Cam had the builders in big time at the moment. There was no way they’d want Siena under their feet. Jason smiled. He’d be shot of her by the end of the week.

Siena let herself out of the front door, pocketing the front door key that Jason had handed over, after carefully sliding it onto a little Lego man key ring, so she wouldn’t lose it. When he wasn’t being grumpy, he could be quite kind. Although, that would go up in smoke if he found out what she was really planning.

Guiltily she looked back down the street. Satisfied she was out of earshot, she pulled out her phone, dialled and then carried on walking briskly, trying to warm up. A layer of frost coated the windscreens of the parked cars lining the street. It felt cold enough for snow and the tip of her nose tingled in the freezing air.

‘Siena.’ Laurie’s voice rang with pleasure.

‘Hi Laurie.’

‘How are you? I am so sorry I’m not there. If you’d given me a bit more notice I could have made arrangements. It’s chaos up here, otherwise I would invite you. We only got the water back on yesterday. And I can’t leave Norah.’ Laurie paused before adding. ‘Do you remember Uncle Miles’ housekeeper? She should have retired but she insists on coming to,’ there was another awkward pause, ‘to Merryview to help out.’

Siena winced at Laurie’s careful mention of her inheritance, the house which had left their mother incandescent with affronted rage. A weaker woman might have taken to her bed. Not Maman. No, she’d called in a team of Paris’s finest legal advocates to query the veracity of her brother’s last will and testament.

Siena swallowed. ‘It was sort of a spur of the moment thing.’ That sounded much better than a nowhere-else-to-go flight.

‘Next time, you idiot,’ the warmth of Laurie’s voice made the insult affectionate, ‘phone me first. I’m gutted I can’t see you. When are you heading back?’

Siena stopped and leaned against the nearest garden wall. ‘Here’s the thing.’ She kept her tone shiny bright and upbeat. ‘You know how you said I’d always have my own room,’ she left the pause, hoping that Laurie would fill it with effusive acceptance.

Unfortunately Laurie didn’t oblige.

‘Remember, you said it was mine, ‘whenever I want it’?’

‘Yes,’ Laurie sounded hesitant.

‘And you decorated it and everything. Your house is gorgeous inside by the way. I love the way you’ve done it. I can’t believe you did the bedroom for me. I’ve been dying to see it and,’ she took a breath, ‘I want to stay for a while.’

‘Wow. I didn’t see that coming. How long’s a while?’ Trust Laurie, Miss Practical Pants to get straight to the point.

‘Quite a while, like a year or two or three.’

There was silence.

Siena rushed on. ‘I’ve decided to do a fashion degree. In London. I need to apply. Maman won’t be too keen but I figure if I go back, all signed up, with somewhere to stay and a place, she can’t really stop me.’ She didn’t add that she hadn’t realised that Leighton Buzzard was so far from London but she’d worry about that later.

‘Siena, that’s great. You said that’s what you wanted to do. Good for you. I’m sure your, I mean, our mother will be fine.’

Siena pulled a face. She wasn’t so sure.

‘Of course you can stay. Although what about Jason? I can’t kick him out. It’s been quite handy having him there, looking after the place.’

‘Oh Jason’s fine. He doesn’t mind.’ Siena looked back over her shoulder.

‘Really? I guess it makes sense. There’s plenty of room and the two of you can share the bills. The council tax is a killer and I’m sure he’ll be grateful to share that as well as the electricity, gas and water.’ Laurie lowered her voice. ‘Nice for him to have company too. I don’t know him that well, he’s a uni friend of Cam’s so he must be alright.’

‘And how is the lovely Cam?’ asked Siena grateful to change the subject.

‘Fine,’ said Laurie matter of factly. ‘In fact when we’re a bit straighter you must come and see us.’

‘Just fine?’ teased Siena. ‘Mighty fine, I seem to recall.’ She might have met him only once but as men went, he was more than fine.

Laurie laughed. ‘He’s gorgeous, stubborn, opinionated, absolutely lovely and a pain in the arse in equal measure.’

Once they’d wound up their conversation. Siena started walking again, a grin on her face. Looked like everything was working out perfectly.

Electrical Assembler. What the heck was that? Experienced assembler required.

That counted her out. Her finger scanned down the rest of the column as she leaned on the dresser, studying the back pages of the local paper.

UK driving licence required. Perhaps they might consider a French one.

A possible.

Must be fully conversant with Word/Excel and have some knowledge of accountancy packages.

No, not suitable.

Car owner.

‘You’re back.’ She jumped at the sound of Jason’s voice and folded the newspaper quickly.

‘Yes, I popped into town,’ she said brightly as if sounding upbeat might dispel the leaden lump in her chest. ‘I’ve got your money for you.’ She handed it to him.

‘Thanks.’ He put the money on the side, leaving it there as he began to pull clothes from the yawning mouth of the washing machine.

It hurt that he left the crisp bank notes so casually on the side. They represented a third of all she had access to at that moment.

Her bank account wasn’t as flush as she’d thought. Of course there’d been the first class flight to London, the new dress and boots from Printemps and this winter’s collection new Prada handbag and the matching purse this month. Asking Maman for an advance on next month’s allowance appeared to be out of the question.

‘I really appreciated you lending me the money.’ She fingered the ribbing on the sleeve of her fine knit jumper not looking him in the eye.

‘No problem.’ He shook out a pair of jeans.

‘So the bills here. Are they quite expensive?’

‘They’re alright.’ Jason picked up the basket and hummed to himself.

Hesitantly she watched as he started pegging out his washing on a rack besides the rather feeble radiator.

‘So,’ she said brightly, ‘how much do you pay?’

He looked up from the task and glared at her. ‘If you want to know how much rent I pay your sister, spit it out and ask.’

‘No. I wanted to know what kind of expenses are involved in owning your own home. I’m thinking about buying an apartment in Paris.’

‘It’s probably different there but here, there’s council tax which is a hundred and thirty-three pounds a month,’ as he spoke, he flipped the clothes over the rack with efficient quick movements, ‘electricity is thirty-five pounds a month, gas varies but again about thirty-five pounds and water is about three hundred pounds a year, plus the telly licence which obviously you wouldn’t pay in France.’

‘Right.’ Her stomached flipped. ‘That’s really helpful.’

He raised a sceptical eyebrow and she gave him a half-hearted smile. Over two hundred pounds a month, so half of that was a hundred pounds, plus food and other expenses.

When his back was turned, she tucked the paper behind her back and slid out of the kitchen to head upstairs.

Settling on her bed she opened the paper again and sighed. The jobs either looked terribly dull or you needed previous experience.

‘Wanted: door-to-door canvassers who are highly-motivated, enthusiastic and professional. With a passion to meet and exceed targets. Quality individuals needed to represent our company.

Hello, this sounded promising.

Whether you have previous experience or not, as long as you have a passion to succeed, we’d love to talk to you.

This position requires excellent face-to-face communication skills with a positive and outgoing personality.

Basic pay negotiable with fantastic commission structure in place.

Siena sat up straighter. Oh, yes. She could feel it in her bones. This sounded like a great job. Maman thought she’d go running home, but Siena would show her.

Chapter 5

Monday morning and brewing day. With a yawn and a stretch, he rubbed his bristled chin. Shaving was a chore and it wasn’t like he worked in an office any more but after a few days, the stubble drove him crazy.

He staggered through to the bathroom and then stopped dead. The shower was running.

He knocked on the door. ‘Siena? Is that you?’

‘Yes, won’t be long.’

Bloody hell. He wanted a pee, a shave and a shower. No, he needed a pee. Right now. He wanted his usual morning routine. For a minute he waited but there was no fricking sign of the water abating. Did the fact she was up so early mean she had a flight to catch?

He’d avoided her on Saturday night by inviting himself along to the pub with Ben. That had backfired a bit because Claire had been there and had somehow ended up hip to hip with him all evening and he might have had a drink too many and might have kissed her. But suggesting lunch on Sunday had probably been his stupidest move. He didn’t want to lead her on and he had horrible idea that he might have given her the wrong signals.

Two full minutes later and his bladder was telling him he wasn’t a freaking camel. He could have burst in but catching Siena naked again felt wrong. Stomping downstairs, he barged into the kitchen, knocking a toe painfully against one of the wooden chairs.

‘For crying out loud,’ he spat through gritted teeth. Grasping the hot tap, he turned it on full and looked up at the ceiling. ‘Take that, madam.’ A second later, he heard a squeal of shock. He let the tap run for a good minute until he heard the shower door slam.

With a satisfied wrench he switched the tap off.

Knocking on the bathroom for a second time made no difference.

‘Siena, I need to get in there.’

‘I won’t be long.’

‘You already have been.’

‘I’ll be out in five.’

‘You’ve got five seconds before I go and pee in the wastepaper basket in your bedroom.’

There was no response.

‘One.’

He heard Siena sniff.

‘Two.’

‘Three.’

He opened her bedroom door, listening with satisfaction to its loud, familiar squeak.

‘Don’t you dare!’ She shot out of the bathroom, her hair bundled in a towel with another wrapped around her. ‘I’m out.’ She stuck her nose in the air. ‘Honestly, some people have no patience.’

‘Some people are trying to get ready to go to work. Alien concept I’m sure.’

She stopped, drew herself up and with a haughty stare looked right down her nose at him. If he hadn’t been so damn desperate for the loo, he might have found it cute. Her attempt at snotty would have worked better if she were a few inches taller but he topped her by three inches.

‘I’ve got a job interview, actually.’ With that she sauntered off to her bedroom.

He dived into the bathroom, so full of steam he could barely see a thing. Blessed relief. Now he could think straight. What the hell was she talking about? He shook his head and climbed into the shower, promptly slipping on the fragrant suds all over the shower tray and banging his knee hard on the tiled wall. Christ alive, she was a liability. A job? Doing what? Smelling people?

Stepping out of the shower he went to pluck the towel from the hook. Pushing wet hair out of his face he tried again, his hand scrabbling against the back of the door.

What? No bloody towel. No doubt the one wrapped turban style around her head. He’d kill her. Swear to God, he would.

Still dripping, he grabbed the hand towel, which was about as much use as a hanky. Sourly he rubbed a section of the mirror clear of condensation which promptly fogged over again. She couldn’t even open the damn window to get rid of the steam. His knee throbbed and he managed to nick himself shaving. Not even eight o’clock and this day was turning out shite.

‘Would you like some coffee? The real deal?’ Siena beamed at him and sipped at her mug with a beatific expression on her face as he stomped into the kitchen.

Unfortunately the rich smell of real coffee addled his brain and when he would have asked her what the hell was going on, all he could do was nod.

And bloody hell it was good coffee. Seriously good.

‘Not a morning person, are you?’

Clutching the coffee to his chest in case she turned nasty and took it away again, he glared at her.

‘You’ll find most men aren’t when the morning routine they’ve enjoyed uninterrupted for the last six months is hijacked by someone who doesn’t understand the concept that there are only sixty seconds in a minute and not three hours, and they’ve been left without a towel.’

‘I wasn’t that long. You’re exaggerating.’

‘I needed a pee.’ How did she manage to make him feel slightly inadequate?

‘Seriously?’ She looked incredulous.

‘Siena, may I remind you, there’s only one loo in this house. I’m sure you’re used to an en-suite for every day of the week but if you could remember that we need to share facilities and what’s this about a job interview?’

‘For a job.’

‘I get the concept of a job interview. What I don’t get is why you would want one.’

‘Gosh, is that the time?’ Siena darted around the table.

He blocked her exit, feeling a faint sense of unease when she tensed and a flash of something flitted across her face. ‘Not so fast. Job?’

‘Yes, I rang them on Saturday. In fact today’s more of a training day than an interview.’

Jason closed his eyes. Proper jobs did not fall out of the trees. What the hell had she signed up for?

‘A training day?’ He tried to sound interested. ‘Training to do what?’

‘I’ll be representing the company. Telling people about their home improvement products.’ She trotted out the phrases parrot fashion. ‘How they can make their houses look better. Offering them discounts. Today I’ll be learning about drawing up quotes. You never know, I might suggest they do this place.’

Jason pinched his lips together and stared hard at the wood grain of the kitchen table, fighting the snigger. It wasn’t for him to burst her bubble.

‘So you get paid for this job?’ he asked, the strain of not laughing showing in his voice.

‘Of course I do, silly. I wouldn’t be doing it otherwise. It’s commission based, twelve per cent on your first fifty thousand then fifteen per cent on your second. There’s the potential to earn up to one hundred thousand in your first year.’

‘What happened to the trust fund? Hang on.’ He shook his head as if trying to clear it. Once again she’d managed to distract him from his initial chain of thought. ‘More importantly. Why? Why have you got a job? Here?’

Siena’s perpetual smile slipped momentarily.

‘I’ve decided to stay for a while. I’ve cleared it with Laurie. It’s my room. This was my dad’s house. I’ve got every right to stay here. Besides we can share bills.’ She spat the words out so quickly, it took a minute to catch up. Good coffee or not, his brain was still in wake up mode.

‘Run that by me again.’

He watched as she rearranged her face into a smiling utterly-reasonable-won’t-this-be-fun expression.

‘I spoke to Laurie. It is my house too, sort of, and the room is mine. So I’m going to stay a while. I’ll keep out of your way. You won’t even know I’m here.’

At that he raised a deliberately sceptical eyebrow.

‘And just think, we can share the bills. That will help won’t it?’

‘Share bills?’ He had a horrible feeling her hot water consumption alone would double the bills.

‘Yes. You told me how expensive they all were. I’ll be able to help. Great isn’t it?’ she said with the confident sunny smile he was rapidly realising was her default. The real world was a concept she had yet to grasp. Her world seemed to roll along on sunshine and roses. ‘I’m sure it’ll be nice for you to have a woman’s touch about the place.’

The coffee sliding down his throat at that moment almost went west and he choked back a cough.

‘Pardon?’

‘You know, a woman’s touch.’

He closed his eyes, counted to five. Surely no judge in the land would send him down for strangling her.

‘What, the woman’s touch that means I can’t even find my own shaving gel in the bathroom anymore?’

‘My, you are a grumpy Gus in the mornings aren’t you?’ She stuck her tongue out at him, with a cheeky grin. ‘See you later.’

As she walked off, leaving his scrambled brain still trying to work out how he now had a lodger, he realised his eyes were glued to her backside, perfectly outlined in some smooth fabric and not a panty line in sight.

‘You lucky sod.’ Ben stopped for a second, lowering the sack of barley to rest on his knee. ‘She’s staying.’ Then he pulled a face of horror. ‘Claire’s not going to like that.’

‘It’s nothing to do with Claire.’ He regretted that drunken kiss on Saturday. She seemed to be very good at seeking him out at the wrong or right time depending on which way you looked at it. He shouldn’t have but it had been a while and when an eager, pliant body was offering, it seemed easy to take what was on offer.

‘You’re doing that protesting thing again.’

‘So would you if you’d had a morning like I’ve had.’

‘Doesn’t sound so bad. She made you coffee.’

‘She also decimated my bathroom.’ He shuddered.

Ben shrugged. ‘So, no one died.’ There were occasions when Jason admired the younger man’s horizontal approach to life; this was not one of them. When Jason got stressed about fulfilling an order, that bacteria might have tainted a brew, or the gravity wasn’t right, Ben’s calm ‘there’s always tomorrow’ attitude was an asset.

‘But the mess …’

Ben shrugged his wide shoulders, lifting the sack of grain.

Will wasn’t much better. He laughed. ‘She’s what?’

‘Selling double glazing.’ Jason stared morosely down into his pint, when he took a break at lunchtime.

Will pushed a ciabatta BLT over the bar towards him.

‘What’s the problem? You said yourself she won’t last five minutes.’

Jason brightened. ‘Yeah that’s true. But why? A job suggests she’s staying long term.’

Will sobered for a minute. ‘Seriously mate, a) is she that bad? and b) like you said she’s so flighty, she could get back to Paris under her own steam. She’s not going to stick around here. Paris. Cannes. New York. Leighton Buzzard? She came to see her sister. Her sister’s not here. She’s not going stay. Doesn’t know anyone … apart from you … and I think you’ve made your feelings clear. Transparent actually. Girl like that is hardly going to want to live with a baboon like you.’

Jason chucked a slice of tomato at Will, who promptly caught it and stuffed it in his mouth.

‘And how was the date with Claire?’

‘How the hell do you know about that? It was lunch.’

‘Jungle drums. You’re fresh meat round here. A lunch date is a considerable coup in someone’s campaign. She’s on a mission, that one. You want to watch yourself.’

Jason clapped him on the arm. ‘If you want the truth, I did it more to get out of the house on Sunday and away from her royal highness. I’m not about to get myself ensnared. Claire’s a nice enough girl but one lunch doesn’t make an engagement. I like her. I’m happy enough to take it slowly and if it goes anywhere, fine. I’m not in and out of girls’ knickers like some I could mention. ’

Will gave him a good natured punch on the arm. ‘Mate, I can’t help it if I’m a babe-magnet. They can’t get enough of me.’

After lunch Will walked back across the cobbled courtyard with him.

‘I love this smell.’

Jason agreed. One of the best smells in the world. Finest Kentish hops boiling in the large copper kettle. ‘I know what you mean.’

They laughed together. As far as most people were concerned, the smell of hops boiling up was pretty disgusting but Jason knew that to them both it signified a whole world of dreams and ambition.

‘Want a hand this afternoon?’ Will had the face of an eager schoolboy; it would have been cruel to turn him down.

‘You can’t keep away. Like having your own train set.’

‘Man this is way better than a train set. Who’d have thought eh? One minute I’m mashing your face in the scrum, the next we’re building a brewing empire.’

‘Empire’s pushing it a bit. Although the Chamber of Commerce have said there’s been some interest from a distributor in France.’

Will laughed. ‘Cool if you got one in Germany. Coals to Cologne.’

‘Apparently the French are going ape for boutique beers. We did win that award.’

‘Yeah we could do with winning another award.’ For all his effete, floppy haired, public schoolboy looks, Will had an extremely astute business brain.

‘I’m doing my best.’

‘You’re doing fine mate. Our second year, five awards. An international gong. Distribution is on the up and we’re almost solvent.’

Jason raised his eyebrows.

‘Almost, I said.’

‘As long as we don’t want to eat as well.’

‘Mate, you know I’ll loan you anything you need.’

‘I’m fine. Just need to be careful. Hopefully this week when I go up to the Lakes I can secure another deal. Keep going like that and in another year those tanks will be paid off. That’ll lighten the load.’ He paused and pulled a face. ‘Providing Stacey doesn’t start up again.’

‘I can’t believe that bitch. She sponges off you for three years. Then expects to get a cut of your flat sale. Your flat, man!’

‘I think she’s given up now.’

‘I should bloody hope so. Cheeky bitch. So when do you head off and when are you back?’

‘I’ll leave tomorrow, back Thursday, so I wouldn’t mind some help today. It’s going to be a late one. There was a leak in one of the bags. I’ve had to send Ben in the Land Rover to get some more barley. If you can pitch in for a couple of hours that would be great.’