Page 44 of Fe
His heart had never really healed. The belief had lodged in Ripley’s head that if he loved anyone too much, then lost them, he would break a little more. It was better to be alone, self-sufficient, and take what he needed, when he needed it. In the years following the loss of his father, Ripley had come to accept that love, affection, and commitment were risks too big to take. He was balanced. He couldn’t let the scales tip. Then he’d met Alejandro. The scaleshadtipped and Ripley had been happier than he’d thought possible until it all fell apart.
Now he was a few years away from forty, repressed and lonely, and it was his own fault. He’d thought Fen would brighten his world. If there was an end date, then Ripley could keep his heart safe. Six months was manageable. A gift to himself and enough money to change Fen’s life.
Yet Ripley wished to hell he’d never asked the question. It had been a stupid thing to do. He thought about calling Fen and apologising, telling him he’d withdraw the offer and they could see how things went. If he explained a little about his messed-up head, then maybe Fen would understand. To be even thinking of doing that showed him something had changed. He could keep the six-month plan in his mind. They could have fun and at least Fen wouldn’t know what was coming. Maybe finish with Fen in five months so it didn’t look…Oh what the fuck I am doing? I haven’t changed at all.
His head was still a mess by the time Harry had delivered him home. Maybe doing some work would stop him thinking about Fen.
Ripley opened his iPad. Had he made his level of attraction clear?No!
Fuck it!
He went to bed tired, but he didn’t sleep and for once, it served him right.
12
By the time Ripley saw the Winns’ van pull up outside his mother’s house, two local estate agents had been and gone. Their valuations had been more or less the same, around three and a half million pounds. The house was structurally sound, the gardens apparently ‘delightful’, but everything needed ‘a touch’ of modernisation. More than a touch in Ripley’s opinion. It had been the family home for three generations.
His mother and Petra had attached labels to everything to be sold. Ripley had looked around and convinced them to include several more items. Very little was going to fit into a ‘small’ flat in whatever town they settled on. But at least his mother seemed set on moving to Eastbourne. She and Petra had already picked out a few rental properties to look at. Ripley arranged for Harry to drive them.
Ripley’s heart cramped when he saw Fen climbing out of the van along with a tall, sulky looking guy of about the same age. Ripley remembered seeing him in the shop. A man in his fifties climbed out after them. He’d wondered if Fen would still come. Ripley went to let them in. Would he be able to tell what Fen was thinking from the way he looked at him? Or didn’t look at him? It was something he was skilled at in court, but right now? He had no idea. That Fen was hanging back told him he felt uncomfortable.
“Good morning.” The older man had his hand out. “I’m Alistair Winn. Please call me Alistair. This is Scott and Fen. They both work in the business.”
“Ripley Belmont.” He shook Alistair’s hand. Fen was looking down at his feet.Right.“Please come in. My mother and her companion are in the drawing room. There are a couple of items in there they wish to be sold. The smaller items are on the dining room table. Please feel free to wander around the house. Two bedroom doors are markedNo Entry.Anything without a label is to be retained by the family.”
“Thank you,” Alistair said.
Scott looked as if he’d rather have been at the dentist and Fen’s head was still down.
“If it’s all right with you,” Alistair said, “the three of us are going to work independently. These two are still learning so I’m keen to see how close they come to my valuations.”
“Okay.”
“Is it all right if we take pictures?” Alistair asked. “Obviously if we don’t get the business, they’ll be deleted, but we’ll need to do some research back at the shop.”
“Fine.”
When the three split up, Ripley followed Fen, who was heading for the drawing room. He knocked on the door and went in, Ripley on his heels.
“Excuse me,” Fen said. “Sorry to disturb you, ladies. I’m with the antiques company.”
“What’s wrong with you?” his mother asked.
His mother never considered anyone might be offended by what she said.
“I have muscular dystrophy.”
“You’re not going to get better then.”
Ripley wanted to clap a hand over his mother’s mouth but Fen actually chuckled.
“No. I’m not.”
“You seem remarkably cheerful.”
“What’s the point in being sad? It is what it is. I can’t change it.”
“How very true. I like positivity.”
