Page 46 of A Change of Location
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After a single night and two days in London, Isobel and Julia returned to Stanwell House, laughing over sore feet and inside jokes. Julia gleefully described the distinguished gentleman admirer who approached her sister in Fortnum and Mason’s top floor restaurant.
“He must be married,” Isobel said dismissively. “And probably has a couple of mistresses. At the minimum.”
“You’ve lived too long across the Channel,” Julia accused, “if you assume Englishmen are as duplicitous as Frenchmen.”
“Introducing himself with an Irish surname? You think that was genuine?” her sister asked, her tone laden with skepticism.
Within a day of Julia’s departure for Edinburgh, Isobel declared her intention of returning to her rental house in La Rochelle. With commissions to fulfill for British ex-pats and holidaymakers, she would spend the summer producing their children’s portraits.
Another guest, unrelated to Martin, arrived in a sleek silver Jaguar.
Hannah cast a dubious glance at the solicitor’s briefcase, guessing that it contained production contracts and site access agreements.
“Here’s Hannah,” Martin said by way of introduction. “She did the location scouting for Acorn Films.”
“Your colleagues were more demanding in the negotiations than I expected.”
Daniel Wheeler might be tall and dark and handsome, with an athletic physique, but she struggled to smile back at him. “And you advised Martin to concede as little as possible.”
“That’s my job, protecting his interests and shielding him against liability. But it’s been an amicable process. No hard feelings on either side.”
He exuded confidence and competence, characteristics she missed in herself. “Great.”
Poppy told her, “He loves movies, Dan does. I think there’s a special word for people like him.”
“Cinephile,” she supplied.
“That’s right,” he confirmed. “Classic films, primarily. Black and white era. I don’t know much at all about modern film production. Your expertise will be quite useful to our discussions. You know exactly the kind of upheaval that Martin and the other district residents are facing.”
First you re-opened my wound, she mourned. Then you rub salt in it.
Martin, apparently aware of her dismay, said quickly, “No need to involve Hannah, she’s having a holiday. I’ve studied advisories and guidelines published by the Historic Properties Association. So has Poppy. And the household staff.”
“McLaren, the location manager, sent an email I’ll share with you. He has helpful suggestions about the community forum.”
The threesome headed for the estate office.
Hannah escaped to her bedroom, fully intending to purchase an airplane ticket from Heathrow to Boston Logan.
But for reasons she couldn’t identify, she didn’t click the link to secure the only remaining seat on her preferred Boston-bound flight. With summer’s approach, fares had soared on the airline where she banked her frequent flier miles. After reviewing less costly options, she rejected the Reykjavik layover that would add hours to her journey.
She’d wait to complete the reservation until she found out which day would be most convenient for Martin to give her a lift to the railway station.
***
The roar of Dan’s Jaguar faded after it reached the bottom of the drive and pulled out onto the roadway. Martin shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, well pleased with recent developments.
Flower Fete proceeds had increased over last year. Although he seldom exploited his title and local prominence, he’d had a jolly good time playing marquess. A lucrative film production would be based at Stanwell House and the Milver Vale region, and within the hour Dan would hand deliver those signed contracts to Hartcliffe Studios. After years of collaboration and consensus-building, several land use and property development projects were underway or about to begin.
He did have one lingering frustration. As best he could discern, Hannah didn’t like him nearly as much as he liked her. He made every effort to be an exemplary host, a pleasant jogging and riding companion, and an inventive cook. An undemanding guest, she seemed content to fall in with whatever activity was on offer. Or to do her own thing, as happened during his solicitor’s brief visit. Aware that Dan outclassed him in looks, Martin had worried he might spark Hannah’s elusive interest. Especially when Poppy teasingly suggested that Dan could replace dishy Lucas Daltrey as the male lead in Forsaken Fortune.
She emerged from her office, mobile in one hand and car keys in the other. “The Holly Cottage tenant’s done a bunk—his neighbor rang me just now.” She shook her head, ponytail swinging. “His rent’s two months overdue. Payment stopped after his mum moved into the senior community in Sherborne, and I was waiting till after the festival to go storm trooper on him. I’d better find out if he took anything away that he shouldn’t have. Too bad our legal eagle left so soon.”
“If I’d asked him to stay longer, you could’ve improved your flirting technique.”
She stalked over to him. “I didn’t flirt with him.”
