Wild Oats

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Authors: Veronica Henry
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Jack was sure he would, eventually, have gone quite, quite mad.
    Olivier came back in with a bottle of cold Bollinger as Jack appeared with the glasses. The champagne was poured ceremoniously and Jack proposed a toast to Jamie’s return. As she sipped her bubbles, she reflected that this was far from the homecoming she’d expected, to be knocking back the Bolly with OlivierTempleton and Lettice Harkaway, each of whose presence made her wary. She longed to be alone with Jack. He was obviously delighted to see her home, skitting about like a frisky kitten, thoroughly overexcited by the occasion, performing for his guests as usual.
    At long last, Lettice drained her glass with an air of finality.
    ‘Righty-ho, darlings. I must toddle off, I’m afraid.’
    Thank God, thought Jamie.
    ‘Not staying for supper?’ Jack asked.
    ‘No, no – the last thing I want to do is intrude. You’ve got such a lot to catch up on.’
    Jamie let out an audible sigh of relief as Lettice poked her feet back into her shoes and stood up. As she walked past Olivier, she pinched his bottom.
    ‘You gorgeous thing!’ she rasped. Jamie was nearly sick, but Olivier just grinned. He was obviously used to it. As the Bentley roared off down the drive, all that was left of Lettice was the overwhelming smell of Trésor and the bright pink lipstick on her champagne glass.
    ‘Well,’ said Jack.
    ‘Well,’ said Jamie.
    They looked at each other for a moment, then Jack held out his arms.
    ‘Come here,’ he said gruffly, and Jamie buried herself in his embrace, trying very, very hard not to cry.
    ‘I think I’ll go and have a bath,’ said Olivier hastily, and made himself scarce.

5
    Tiona was in the little boxroom she had commandeered as her private office as soon as it became clear that Hamilton Drace wasn’t coming back to work after his funny turn and that she was, for the time being, in charge. Hamilton had never had his own office. He always said he couldn’t get a feel for what was going on if he was locked away. But Tiona needed privacy. She didn’t want anybody earwigging on her transactions, even though she thought most of the staff at Drace’s were too thick to cotton on to what she was up to. She insisted she needed complete peace and quiet to discuss terms with clients, blaming her own lack of concentration, implying that a fluffy little creature like her couldn’t possibly walk and chew gum at the same time, and everyone seemed to accept it.
    She had one last call to make before clocking off for the day. She stabbed out Mrs Turner’s number, then twizzled the cord round her finger, batted her eyelashes and smiled her sweetest smile, knowing they would transfer themselves down the telephone line.
    ‘Mrs Turner? Tiona Tutton-Price here. I’ve got some fantastic news.’ She sounded breathy and excited, as if she could barely contain herself. ‘I was just about to type up your particulars, when a mancame in to register his details. He was after just what you’ve got to offer. He’s prepared to give you the asking price. Cash, no strings. He doesn’t even want to view.’
    Mrs Turner hesitated.
    ‘But I thought what we wanted was two or three people interested –’
    Shut up, thought Tiona. You weren’t supposed to actually pay attention to what I was telling you.
    ‘Let me put it into perspective for you. You’ll be saving yourself a fortune. No advertising, no board up, no photography. And I’m sure we can come to some arrangement over our fees. After all, I won’t have had to work terribly hard.’
    She gave a tinkling laugh, but there was no reply. Tiona knew from experience that Mrs Turner was struggling to take the information in. It took the old so bloody long to cotton on.
    ‘Peace of mind, Mrs Turner. If we move very quickly you will be safe in the knowledge that you’ve got a definite sale. He’s happy to exchange ASAP. Whereas it could be weeks before we get a firm offer…’
    Tiona also knew that the old

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