An Offer You Can't Refuse (part one) by Suzanne Hudson

 

Katie gripped the sheets of paper containing the particulars of number sixty-two Denby Lane tightly in her hands, as Michael tore around the corners of the narrow country lanes. 

          ‘He’s going to kill me,’ she thought.  ‘We are never going to get to view this house because he’s going to kill me before we get there.’

‘Michael, slow down!’ she pleaded, but he just threw back his head and laughed.

          ‘It’s fine,’ he said.  ‘There’s no coppers out here in the sticks.’

                                       *                 *                 *

          Phil paced up and down the wooden floor of the front room of number sixty-two and tried to fight the urge to check the time on his phone again.  He knew it couldn’t be more than 4.22 because it was only two minutes since he’d checked it.  ‘Come on,’ he thought, impatiently.  ‘Hurry up.  Be early so that I can get out of here.’

          This four-thirty was his last viewing of the day and as it was Saturday he was planning to be in his car by five and nursing a well-deserved pint in the local wine bar by half past.

                                      *                 *                 *

          The doorbell rang at 4.29 and a couple in their early thirties came in, a huge hulk of a man in designer clothes and sunglasses and behind him a slim blonde dressed down in skinny jeans and flip flops. Outside the garden gate Phil got a glimpse of a white sports car.

          ‘Phil Warren,’ he said, extending a hand.

          ‘Michael and Katie Fraser,’ said the man, pumping Phil’s hand up and down vigorously and then pushing his shades on top of his head.  ‘So shall we get to it mate?  Not got all day.’

          ‘Of course,’ grimaced Phil.  Just what he needed.  A obnoxious prat with a low IQ and a trophy wife.

          Phil began his estate agent patter about how the house was a semi-detached period property but Michael’s eyes were glazing over. 

          ‘Yeah, that’s great mate. So how well do these houses hold their value?’

          As Phil answered Michael’s questions about the local housing market he became aware of Katie’s complete lack of interest in what they were talking about.  Out of the corner of his eye he could see that she was transfixed by the coloured glass in the front door and was following the intricate patterns on it with her finger.  Her eyes then took in the ceiling with its original cornicing and she seemed to be drinking it all in, as if committing it to memory. 

          ‘It’s stunning…’ she said and Phil suddenly found that he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.  She was such a quiet, still person.  Her husband’s voice boomed around the small hallway but she seemed lost in her own world.

          ‘Come on Kate, get a move on will you?  I said I’d meet the guys at six.’

          Phil led them into the front room with its high ceiling and large bay window.  He was explaining to them how the house had been sympathetically renovated but with all mod cons.  Michael stood in the middle of the room and took one quick look around.

          ‘Yeah, perfect Phil,’ he announced, as his phone rang in his pocket.  ‘I’d better get this mate, we’ve got a big deal going on.’  As he headed back into the hall, Phil’s eyes followed Katie as she walked around, running her fingers along the original marble fireplace and craning her neck to admire the ceiling. This house was perfect for her, he sensed that.  He just wasn’t so sure about her husband. 

          ‘Wow, what a view!’ she exclaimed, walking towards the window.  The summer sun lit up the softly undulating hills in the distance and Phil joined her, pointing out local landmarks.  She was easy to talk to and he realised that he was actually enjoying himself and was no longer in such a hurry to get to the wine bar.

          They eventually wandered into the kitchen diner at the back of the house where they saw that Michael was out in the garden, still on his phone, pacing up and down the lawn, his arms gesturing animatedly. 

          ‘That’ll be work,’ shrugged Katie and she began asking Phil the questions of a genuinely interested buyer. 

‘Would you like to take a look at the garden?’ he asked and she followed him outside. It was narrow but long and it had been tastefully landscaped to maximise the space.   The present owners had converted a small stone outhouse at the bottom of the garden, into a workroom.  Katie’s face lit up as she peeped inside. 

          ‘It’s perfect!’ she said.  Michael had finished his phone call and came to join them.

          ‘It’s for her arts and crafts,’ he snorted and she gave him a kick.

          ‘I make jewellery,’ she told Phil, shyly.  ‘I just sell to friends at the minute but I’m hoping to start my own business.’

          ‘I keep telling her Phil, that fifty per cent of new businesses fail.  But will she listen?’  Katie rolled her eyes as Michael’s phone went off again and he shouted into it ‘Nick, mate, we got cut off.  Crap signal out here in the middle of nowhere!’  They left him to it and headed back towards the house. 

          ‘He doesn’t get it,’ she said to Phil.  ‘He thinks I should be in marketing like him because that’s where the money is but I’ve never wanted to work in an office. I work at a children’s nursery at the moment but I really think I could make this jewellery thing work, especially with a workroom like that.’

          Phil smiled at her encouragingly.  He suddenly felt pity for her, married to this moron, who didn’t appreciate his gentle, artistic wife.  Back in the kitchen diner Katie was exclaiming over the period features when Michael burst in, sucking all the air out of the room.

          ‘I prefer brand new myself but she’s got her heart set on something old, haven’t you Kate?’ he said, ruffling her hair patronisingly.  Phil felt his blood beginning to boil.  Why were perfectly nice women drawn to brutes like this, just because they had money and fast cars?  It seemed so unfair, when decent blokes like him couldn’t get a look in.  He wanted to ask Katie why she was putting up with this guy, who didn’t deserve her and who she seemed to have nothing in common with.  As Katie pointed out something to Michael in the house particulars, Phil suddenly wondered why it bothered him so much. Why did it matter to him that she was wasting her life with this idiot?