breakfast away. The cereal was soft and tasteless. He wasn’t hungry enough to make the effort with toast.
‘Eight? Eight fifteen?’
‘Shouldn’t you be dressed by now? Is someone else opening up today?’
‘Nope.’
Geri rakes her fingers through his uncombed hair. ‘Then, shouldn’t you …?’
‘None of the other staff arrive until half past nine. And why should they? No one looks at properties at the crack of dawn. I’m just the idiot who turns up an hour before everyone else because a conveyancer’s lot is not a happy one. And as for bloody Salim—’
‘A sleeping partner who sleeps?’ She looks at him thoughtfully. ‘Are you OK, Dan? You’ve seemed a bit jaded this week.’
He pulls her gently towards him, his face meeting her protruding belly. Resting his head against it, he plants a soft kiss, inhaling a comforting smell he couldn’t describe if he tried. ‘I’m just jealous. I want to stay at home with you and Henrietta.’
‘Henrietta? Very Jane Austen. So, the baby is a girl today?’
‘Yes, she told me this morning when you were sleeping.’
‘Well, Henrietta says it’s time for Daddy to get shaved and dressed.’
He puts his hand to his chin, feeling the bristles for a few moments. He has what Jen Kenning always describes as ‘Irish stubble’, black and soft but persistent. He can’t be bothered to shave. ‘How about a beard?’
‘A beard?’ Geri says slowly, then laughs. ‘OK. Let’s see how it goes.’
When Dan arrives at the estate agency, Maya Ahmed is waiting outside, clutching her coat collar around her neck. ‘Blooming heck, Dan,’ she says, peering at her watch. ‘This is a first. And I’m freezing.’ She turns to the shop window and gesticulates to the photographs of large properties for sale in Wilmslow and the other affluent Cheshire suburbs. ‘Interesting, though. Seeing it from this side. How the other half lives.’
Not in the mood for chat, Dan unlocks the door. ‘Two sides to everything in life, Maya,’ he says.
‘A bit deep for you, Dan. Had a transformation overnight? You’ll be wanting something other than tuna and mayonnaise on your sandwich next.’ She follows him to the back office, watching as he disables the alarm, opens the safe and turns on the answerphone without removing his coat. ‘Everything OK at home?’ she asks over a prattling long message. ‘Geri well? Baby still cooking?’
‘Yup. Pass me that pen. Has the post arrived?’
She rolls her sable eyes. ‘I wouldn’t know, Dan. I’ve only just arrived. We walked in together a minute ago, remember?’
Ignoring her puzzled gaze, he continues to focus on the answerphone messages.
She opens his laptop, presses the start button and studies him again. ‘Your overcoat is a clue of your recent arrival.’ She cocks her head. ‘Some men get the baby wobbles. Did you know that?’
‘Been reading Cosmopolitan again, Maya?’ He looks up from his scrawl. ‘What?’ he asks, looking at her gappy grin and trying not to return it.
‘Nothing,’ she replies with a chuckle. Two telephones peal shrilly. ‘Here we go,’ she says. ‘Where the flip is Andrew? Why’s he always late on a Friday?’
Maya pops her dark head around Dan’s office door before lunchtime. ‘I thought I’d better check. You know, what with the designer stubble and all.’
He looks up from the letters and searches, the plans and paperwork spread over his desk. It’s always the same on bloody Fridays. The morning has flown; four residential completions already, another four in the pipeline.
His mind still on the files, he looks at Maya blankly.
‘Check whether it’s still a tuna and mayo sandwich for lunch?’ she explains. ‘And somebody is here about a viewing. Wants a big cheese. Us minions won’t do, which is a pity. You’ll know what I mean when you see him.’
The surge of irritation is there; why does he have to do everything? ‘Salim can see him. He’s the—’
‘Property man. I know. But he isn’t here yet. No idea where …’
The annoyance increases. ‘Tell the viewer to make an appointment.’
‘I already tried. He says that he knows you.’ Maya looks at her notepad. ‘Sebastian Taylor?’
The alarm hits immediately. What the fuck? What the fuck? He tries to think for a moment, aware of Maya’s gaze as he struggles to find an excuse. Perhaps there are two Sebastian Taylors in his phone book, but he instinctively knows there aren’t. ‘Oh right, show him in,’ he says evenly, hoping the heat hasn’t risen to his cheeks.
He clears his throat.
The door opens. Maya appears first, then gawks with obvious interest. Stepping forward as though this unexpected visit is perfectly normal, he takes Seb’s outstretched hand. Time stalls. Maya finally stops staring and speaks. ‘Anyone need a drink?’
‘Sorry,’ Seb says when the door clicks to. ‘I know what you must be thinking.’
The words take Dan aback. Why is he sorry? What the fuck does he mean? He tries to formulate a reply, but finds himself stunned as he studies Seb’s face. He’s tried to push this man from his thoughts since the wedding weekend, but finds his heart rushing.
‘Just turning up here,’ Seb continues. ‘Nothing bad has happened.’ His piercing blue eyes are on Dan’s. ‘To Penny. Nothing bad has happened to Penny. She’s fine, at home with Will; there hasn’t been another …’
Dan feels his cheeks colouring, wonders whether it’s obvious Penny was the last thing on his mind. He clears his throat again and rallies. ‘Oh, great; that’s good. So she’s OK? And Will? We’ve spoken briefly, but I didn’t like to go into detail, you know, asking questions. I guess when he’s ready, he’ll talk.’ He’s still standing and so is Seb. Business mode, that’s the thing. ‘Take a seat. So, how can I help?’
Seb looks around the office before pulling out a chair and sitting at a distance, as one might do for an audition. He’s wearing loose-fitting torn jeans, a patterned shirt and black jacket. He leans forward, his legs spread, his elbows on his thighs.
‘I don’t have your mobile number. You described where this place was at the wedding, but I didn’t remember a name.’
‘Wilmslow Property Services,’ Dan replies, as though the name wasn’t etched on the shopfront in huge letters.
Seb pulls a folded paper from his jacket pocket. ‘Yeah, so I see.’
They both turn to the door as Maya bustles in, catching her colourful hijab in the door. She puts the coffee on Dan’s desk, then peeks over Seb’s shoulder at the sales particulars he’s holding.
‘Ah, Oak House. Not far from here. Always a shame to split something so beautiful
