The House in the Clouds - Victoria Connelly Page 0,17
was a viable source of much-needed income for Winfield? He didn’t need to know about her thoughts and feelings about the world or anything about her family. He hadn’t even asked if she was married or not, but perhaps he’d read that she wasn’t in an online interview. There was enough about her private life online to sate even the most ardent fan.
And should she have asked more about him? Surely he’d have mentioned if he had a wife and five screaming children? She’d noticed that he hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring, but plenty of people didn’t. Maybe she should ask him when she got home. Drop him a quick email and say – by the way, is there a Mrs Townsend? Would that sound odd? Would he think she was a desperate single woman in search of not only a country estate but a husband too?
Abi smiled. She’d leave it. They both seemed happy to be doing business with each other and that, surely, was enough. So what would that make them to one another, she wondered? Edward wouldn’t exactly be her landlord and he wasn’t going to be her boss. And they didn’t know each other well enough to be thought of as friends.
Neighbours, she decided at last. Yes, they would be neighbours. Or perhaps something a little more than neighbours with their shared love of Winfield uniting them in quite a unique bond. Together, they would tear away all the rotting bits of the place and help restore it to its former glory. They would breathe new life into the long-forgotten rooms, repair its broken windows, restore the long-neglected garden, paint each beautiful wall and fill it with fine things and happy people.
Partners, Abi thought. Perhaps she could think of her and Edward as being partners in restoration. That was rather a fine title, wasn’t it? Yes, she liked that.
As she drove through the village and wound her way through the deep lanes of Sussex towards the motorway that would take her back to London, she knew that she was leaving a little piece of herself behind. A piece which she hoped to join once again very soon.
Edward Townsend looked at the business card Abigail Carey had given him. It was one of the prettiest he’d ever seen, featuring her signature sunflower. Edward was used to being handed dull beige business cards where the only highlight might be a slightly interesting font. This, though, was the card of an artistic soul. He didn’t know too many of those. He didn’t really get to meet them in his line of work.
His line of work. He baulked at the phrase. He was unemployed. But he was still a financial adviser, wasn’t he? He had yet to make any clear decisions on his next move, but selling half of Winfield would, at least, buy him a little time. Abigail would buy him a little time. He’d liked her. He was still perplexed by a person who would just walk away from a successful company when it was at the height of its power, but he guessed he was going to have to try and understand that some people just didn’t think the same way as he did.
But what a relief she’d said yes. Edward really hadn’t wanted to go through the rigmarole of putting the property on the market again, albeit half of it. It would have been taken out of his hands if he’d done that and he wouldn’t have been able to choose his buyer so easily. This way, he’d have total say in whom he shared Winfield with and it seemed a strange kind of fate that things had happened the way they had – with his friend having recognised the underbidder at the auction and her not having found another place yet and still being so very in love with Winfield. He’d seen that trait in her straight away. He’d watched as she’d glanced around the room he was in now and he’d seen that glorious glazed look upon her face as she’d taken in the view from the window. Indeed, Edward felt sure he wore the same look himself only perhaps he hid it better than Abigail did. He had the feeling that she was one for showing her emotions through both her art and her speech. It was one of the things he’d warmed to about her – she didn’t waste time being cagey. She loved Winfield and she wasn’t afraid to admit