Page 18

I was pleased to see the house in good order, the kitchen wiped down and Dylan himself standing there, dressed in a shirt and tie.

He looked good, ina shirt and tie.

“Matching,” he said, wafting his hand down over his body as I grinned. Matching indeed. We were both in white shirts with blue ties. Tidy. Professional.

“Working tonight,” I explained. “So I’ll change the tie to black later.”

“Who are you driving today?” he asked. I liked that he took an interest.

“Still the gentleman who identifies as a unicorn?” Jean asked, placing the cups of coffee into the microwave. I was about to tell her off but politely restrained myself. If she wanted to set the house on fire and destroy perfectly good coffee, that was her loss.

“Yes.” I smiled politely. “He’s a very nice man, perfectly agreeable. I just worry about the large horn he dons on his head. It keeps getting stuck in the car’s ceiling. If he scratches the interior, I’ll have to raise it with Michelle, and she won’t be happy.”

“I don’t understand why someone wants to spend his whole life in fancy dress.” Jean smirked. “But to each their own. If it makes him happy?”

“He’s very popular in Korea.” I sighed. “But as I said, very nice man. I’d rather drive a man in fancy dress around than that young girl I drove a few weeks back. Stained thewhole back seat with make-up and food, left trash strewn in her wake like it was confetti and didn’t say a word for four days. It was rather painful.”

I didn’t often complain about clients, but Dylan seemed to enjoy my stories and Jean chuckled over by the sink, so I assumed it gave him something to talk about, which was good. Anything that filled his day with things other than grief and sadness.

“So you drive celebrities around for appointments?” Jean asked, handing me a perfect cup of tea. The right strength and everything. “Dylan said you only drink tea.”

“Thank you. I never say no to a cuppa.”

“Neither do I,” she admitted with a wink. “But my boss here is a coffee snob, so I keep him happy at work. I’m very specific about my coffee, though.”

“Jean is a classy lady.” Dylan smiled. “She knows all the best coffee shops.”

Jean smiled cheerily at the compliment. “I asked Stewart to pop in this morning because I have some good news.”

Dylan stared at her blankly. Odd. I didn’t quite understand the dynamic they had going on, but the man was still too pale and withdrawn. I wasn’t surehe should be working, or even standing upright, but at least he was working from home.

“We’re going to go hijack a site inspection. Small build in Barnes, just ten plots, but the builders are a new set-up, and they have absolutely no idea how to submit paperwork. I very much doubt they’ve had anyone look over their plans. Got a tip-off from a friend and we’re going to act on it. Turn up and sort them out before the inspection turns nasty. This is their third one. They’re desperate.”

“We are too.” Dylan sighed. “Jean, no.”

“Yes, Dylan.” She nodded vigorously. “We have no choice. We’re not who we used to be, and we need to start somewhere. Which is why I’ve told the people at Contempo that we will meet them on site at eleven. I was hoping that Stewart here would take pity on us and drive us there. In style. I’ve seen your car, and we need to impress. Won’t give the same impact if we turn up in an Uber.”

“I see,” I said, taking a sip of tea and watching Dylan, who looked a little panicky, to be honest.

“I haven’t even seen the plans.” His voice sounded strained.

“Neither have I, but this is child’s play. We have a couple of hours to get this sorted, and then we ride in and blind them with the perfect bundle of paperwork and get paid by the end of the week. Easy.”

Dylan sighed again. I did too because I was completely out of my depth here, and Jean was rattling off terminology I couldn’t even start to grasp as I looked around the kitchen.

The bag of treats on the side. A dirty plate in the sink.

“Would you like me to leave you to it?” I asked, hoping to make a swift escape.

“Actually, if you wouldn’t mind, we could do with some breakfast and a steady supply of hot drinks because we need to knuckle down now, and I need to make a few phone calls to see if I can rush through a few amendments before the inspectors pull their paperwork. Time is of the essence.”

“I see.” I did. So I rolled up my sleeves, grinning in delight at the fridge having been stocked since the last time I was here. Jean, I assumed. “I’ll make myself useful then. You need to be there at eleven?”

After that, I busied myself poaching eggs and looking for a safe place to park at this building site on Google Maps.

I felt oddly at home. I liked being useful, and Jean turned out to be good company, upbeat and delightful, even when she was trying to wrangle some poor council worker into doing her bidding over the phone. Things I had so often done myself. A little bit of stern cheer and persuasion went a long way getting other people to do what you wanted, and persuasion was evidently Jean’s forte.

I washed up, made cups of tea, drove around London with Dylan looking like he was ready to cry and Jean holding a steady silence. I got the impression her nerves weren’t as solid as they seemed, and I was honestly grateful as I dropped her home and got Dylan safely through his front door, where he immediately ripped off his tie and slumped onto a chair.