a speaking look with the other two, and briskly requested Avery’s help in fitting the inserts she’d cut to stitch into the vintage bridal gown. There was a steady influx of customers from then on, and for the rest of the day Avery was kept so busy that Frances advised her to go straight home after her session with the bridesmaids.
‘No point in trekking back here afterwards. I’ll lock up.’
Avery thanked her and smiled encouragingly at her little team as she left. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll soon find other premises to rent.’
Avery’s session with six excited little girls and their harassed mothers took up so much time and energy that it was late by the time she left. Several times during the day she’d been on the point of ringing Jonas, but in the end decided to allow herself the satisfaction of confronting him in person. She arrived home to find Jonas there before her, standing tall in the arched porch like a sentry in a box.
‘Hello, Avery, you’re late,’ he said, moving swiftly to open the car door. ‘The table’s booked for eight.’
She got out, ignoring his helping hand. ‘Cancel it,’ she said tersely. ‘I’m not hungry.’
He stepped back, frowning. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’ll tell you inside.’ She unlocked the door and punched in the code for the alarm. ‘In here, please.’
She ushered him into a dauntingly formal room, with pictures and furnishings dating from her grandparents’ day. The only modern features were two central heating radiators so rarely switched on that the temperature of the room was as arctic as Avery’s manner.
‘Do sit down,’ she said politely, but Jonas shook his head and drew himself to his full, formidable height, moving to one side to avoid the coloured glass chandelier Avery’s grandparents had brought back from a holiday in Venice.
‘I’ll stand.’
‘Then I’ll come straight to the point.’ Avery looked up at him coldly. ‘I gather that this “family firm” of yours has purchased the land which includes the shops on Stow Street.’
His mouth tightened. ‘So that’s it. Who the hell leaked that? It hasn’t been made public yet.’
‘I received a letter from Morrell Properties today, telling me my lease won’t be renewed, so I made a few enquiries.’ Her eyes speared his. ‘You’ve known about this all along. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I fully intended to the minute planning permission was confirmed,’ he said curtly. ‘It didn’t come through officially until late this afternoon.’
‘Oh.’ Avery felt herself deflate like a pricked balloon. ‘I see.’
His eyes hardened. ‘I must have a word with George Morrell. I told him I wanted to inform all the leaseholders in person before they received an official letter.’
She smiled faintly. ‘None of the other leaseholders received a letter today. Only me.’
Jonas frowned. ‘You’re saying this is personal?’
‘You bet it is.’
‘Why?’
‘His son arranged the lease for me in the first place as a favour, even though Daddy disapproved.’ Avery’s chin lifted. ‘I’m considered ineligible as a friend for the Morrell son and heir. In fact, I’ve been expecting this kind of letter every time the lease comes up for renewal, so that part of it was no shock.’ She looked at him squarely. ‘But because I liked you I was angry—hurt, even—to find you’d kept me in the dark about the deal.’
‘Avery—’ His phone rang, and with a muttered curse Jonas answered it, his face grim as he rapped out questions to his caller. He snapped the phone shut, looking bleak. ‘Sorry, I have to go. There’s been an accident involving one of our vehicles.’
‘Was anyone hurt?’
‘Yes. I’ll drive straight to the hospital.’ He took an envelope from his pocket as they reached the outer door. ‘I intended to give you this as a parting gift at the end of a very different evening. Read it when I’m gone.’ He hesitated, and for a moment she thought—and hoped—that he would kiss her. But he merely looked at her for a moment, then turned away without touching her. ‘Goodbye, Avery.’
After her usual locking and bolting routine Avery stared in blank dismay as she read the letter which had been faxed through to Jonas after planning had been confirmed. Mercom, it seemed, had no intention of demolishing the shops in Stow Street. The leaseholders were being offered the option either to purchase, or to lease their premises from their new landlord. There were plans to build on the land behind them, but construction work would not affect trading. Traffic access to the building site would be via Cheap Street, to the north of the car park. Official confirmation would be forwarded to Miss Crawford in due course.
Avery stalked round the kitchen like an angry tigress, heaping curses on George Morrell’s head. His indecent hurry to terminate her lease had put paid to what might have developed into a beautiful friendship with Jonas Mercer. She gave a short, mirthless laugh. Who was she kidding? For the first time in years she would have liked more than that. But fat chance of friendship or anything else now Jonas had gone speeding back home to—to where, exactly? She looked at the letter-heading. Mercom was based in Kew, in London, but she had no idea of Jonas’s private address. A call to his cellphone was the only way to contact him, but she couldn’t see herself doing that any time soon.
‘No problem, everyone,’ Avery announced next morning. ‘I merely pay rent to a new landlord.’ She reported on her meeting with a Mercom representative, and it was only later, over lunch with Frances, that she revealed the identity of their new landlord.
‘I went straight for the jugular because he kept me in the dark about it,’ she said disconsolately, ‘and then he handed me this.’ She passed the Mercom letter to Frances, who smiled in relief as she finished reading it.
‘So we’re not out in the snow after all, boss dear! I trust you grovelled suitably to Mr Mercer afterwards?’
‘I didn’t get the chance. He had to rush off to cope with an emergency back at base.’ Avery heaved a sigh. ‘I doubt I’ll see him again.’
Embroidery was a pastime she normally found therapeutic, but that day it gave Avery far too much scope for brooding over Jonas. And to her frustration she soon realised that her work was unnecessary. Frances was so skilled a tailor that the inserts had no need of disguise, and after the first couple of hours Avery wished she’d kept her big mouth shut and never mentioned embroidery to the bride. A whole morning of working ivory silk flowers and leaves on ivory satin was as much as she could take, and at lunchtime Avery gave herself a break.
To Avery’s infinite gratitude she found that Louise and Helen had worked like beavers to finish an order for miles of curtain for a client’s barn conversion, and had already started cutting the shell-pink taffeta delivered that morning for the bridesmaids’ dresses. Frances was completing skilled alterations to a man’s suit, and Avery, glad of company while she worked, began on the repair of a black lace evening dress promised for the weekend.
Any hope of hearing personally from Jonas gradually faded as ten days passed, with only official communications from solicitors to Avery about the leasing of the Stow Road premises
