Page 20 of The Little Shop on Silver Linings Street
He touched her arm. ‘Come on, the car’s warm at least.’
She nodded, trying to relax. ‘Where are we going?’ she asked, but he just smiled.
‘You’ll see.’
Infuriating.
She followed his quick steps a short distance to where a sleek sports car was parked by the side of the road. She had no idea what model it was, but it seemed barely big enough to contain both of them. Bertie was well over six foot and she had a sudden image of him trying to fold his long legs up sufficiently to enable him to climb inside, rather like a stick insect. It was exactly the sort of car she had imagined he would drive and she quickly saw how at home in it he looked. The dark-blue interior matched his clothes and he sank into the seat just as she had, legs outstretched. By the time she had arranged herself he had slipped on a pair of sunglasses and his hands held the steering wheel lightly. With a grin, he pressed a button and a throaty roar filled the cabin.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked.
She nodded, even though she wasn’t at all sure what for.
He drove quickly, the car hugging the road, and within minutes they were turning onto the main road that led away from the town. She had thought they were going quite fast enough, but Bertie put his foot down and she felt the power surging beneath the car. It was utterly terrifying, but Bertie seemed unconcerned. He was clearly used to driving that way.
They had only gone a short distance, however, before Bertie suddenly eased back on the throttle, glancing at her several times in quick succession.
‘Oh God, I’m sorry, Daisy,’ he said. ‘I forget how fast I drive sometimes. You look terrified.’
‘Do I?’
‘You’re probably nervous as hell too. I know I am.’
She looked at him. ‘You don’t seem as if you are.’
He grinned. ‘Perhaps I hide it better than you. And, right now, I’m in my comfort zone, you’re not.’
‘No, that’s very true. And actually most things are – outside of my comfort zone, that is.’
‘In which case you are being extraordinarily generous by coming out with me today.’
She gave him a sideways look. ‘Do I have much choice?’
‘No… I guess not.’
His voice was laden with apology, which was very sweet of him, but the more she thought about this day and what it meant, it really wasn’t about her.
‘I’m sorry, Bertie, this must be awful for you. Not this…’ She gestured at the interior of the car. ‘Although perhaps we shouldn’t pass judgement on the day just yet… But I meant the thing with Buchanans. It’s awful for all of you. What do you think you’ll do, if you don’t get the business, I mean? Or even if you do get it…’
‘That’s rather a lot of questions.’ There was a pause as he concentrated on the road ahead of him. ‘And the truth is that I’m trying not to think about it. Not a particularly smart move under the circumstances, but there you go, that’s me all over. I’m not a businessman, I can only just about manage to do the accounts.’
‘But you do want to run Buchanans?’
There was an even longer pause.
‘I think that’s one of those questions I never thought I’d have to think about. And not something I’m particularly proud of admitting. But when Dad died at such an early age we were all brought up to understand that it was our place to keep the family firm going. We all thought that Lawrence would take the helm when Mum retired of course, but that essentially everything else would pretty much stay the same. Rather naive as it turns out.’
‘That might still happen.’
Bertie’s head swivelled. ‘You really don’t know Lawrence, do you? There’s no way that he’d keep either me or Kit on the books if he gained control. Not financially viable would be his excuse, but in reality it’s because Lawrence likes doing things by himself. I’m under no illusions that I’d be out on my ear.’
Daisy was about to argue but realised there was little point. Bertie’s words had an undeniable ring of truth about them. ‘But what would you do then?’
Bertie let out a long sigh. ‘I have absolutely no idea. I’m not fit for much – bit of a party animal, I’m afraid.’
It wasn’t the throwaway comment he meant it to be, and Daisy need only look around her to see that he was being serious about his shortcomings. The car was virtually new, with plush leather seats and a polished wood interior, and an ability to accelerate that came at a price. Bertie himself wore the kind of clothes that only easy money could buy. The designer sunglasses, the boots, a watch that looked like it could launch a rocket – none of it looked like it was trying too hard. But, despite Daisy’s lack of knowledge of such things, she knew enough to understand that beneath the deliberately understated exterior – if you were the right kind of person – these things were shouting at you very loudly indeed. She could see very clearly how Bertie’s upbringing had been responsible for the way he lived his life.
‘Okay, so what would youliketo do?’
