Good Girl or Gold-Digger?. Kate Hardy

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СКАЧАТЬ from the museum takings,’ Daisy said. ‘But there’s my house.’ The two-up-two-down terraced house her grandmother had left her. ‘I can talk the bank into giving me a mortgage to release some of the equity.’

      ‘On the salary you draw from here, they wouldn’t lend you a penny.’ Bill shook his head. ‘And I wouldn’t let you get into debt for this anyway. No, love.’

      ‘It’s my heritage as well,’ Daisy pointed out. Her uncle had often said that she was the child he and Nancy hadn’t been able to have. ‘Your grandfather, my great-grandfather.’ She took a deep breath. She’d been thinking about Annie’s words since yesterday. Maybe her best friend was right. It had been a bit unfair of her to tell her family by text message last night and then switch her phone off so they couldn’t get hold of her. She hadn’t given them the chance to help because she hadn’t wanted to deal with the way they saw her. But maybe it was time she swallowed her pride, for the sake of the fairground. This was something she couldn’t fix on her own; they did need bailing out. ‘We could ask Dad, Ben, Ed and Mikey to help. They’d chip in, because it’s their heritage, too.’

      ‘No. Ben has a young family to think about, Ed and Mikey have huge mortgages and your dad’s about to retire.’ Bill sighed. ‘His investments are in the same state as mine.’

      And there was still the fact that Daisy’s family saw the fairground as Bill’s whimsy, which in their view was stopping Daisy from having a proper career. Which was why she avoided talking to them about it.

      Bill looked grim. ‘We’re going to have to get a backer outside the family.’

      ‘Who’s going to invest in a steam-fairground museum in a recession?’ Daisy asked.

      ‘The prices of steam engines are rocketing—no pun intended,’ Bill said, with a nod to the model of Stephenson’s Rocket on his desk. ‘So right now investors will see their money as being safer here than in shares.’

      Daisy shook her head. ‘Investors always come with conditions attached. And they won’t see this the way we do, that we’re conserving our heritage. They’ll want to see big returns on their money—they’ll want a hike in entrance fees and more stuff in the shop. And what if they decide to pull out? How would we raise the money to buy out their share?’

      ‘I don’t know, love.’ Bill looked bleak. ‘We could sell the showman’s engine.’

      It was worth a small fortune, but it was also the last engine that Bell’s had ever made, and Daisy had spent four years working on its restoration. ‘Over my dead body. There has to be another way.’

      ‘Short of winning the lottery, or discovering that fairy godmothers are real, I doubt it, love. We’ll have to take on a partner.’

      ‘Or a sponsor, perhaps.’ Daisy sighed. ‘I’ll stick the kettle on. And then we’ll work out what we can offer a sponsor, make a list of all the local businessmen and divvy up the calls between us.’ She hugged him. ‘We’ll find our silver lining.’

      Felix picked the phone up without taking his eyes off the spreadsheet. ‘Gisbourne.’

      ‘Oh good. I’m so glad you’re there, Felix.’

      Felix sighed inwardly; it served him right for not checking the caller display first. Now his sister was going to nag him instead of leaving a message on his answering machine. Which meant he couldn’t fast-forward it, or delete the message unheard and tell a white lie about his answering machine going wrong. ‘Good morning, Antonia.’

      ‘Mummy says you’re weaselling out of the house party this weekend.’

      Typical Antonia: she always came straight to the point. ‘Sorry, sweets. Can’t make it. I’m busy at work.’

      ‘Come off it,’ Antonia scoffed. ‘You’re perfectly capable of going to the house party and sorting out your business stuff first thing in the morning, before anyone else in the house even thinks of getting up.’

      True. But it didn’t mean that he wanted to do it.

      ‘Mummy really wants you there.’

      ‘Only because she’s lined up yet another suitable woman for me.’ Felix sighed. ‘Look, Toni, I’m not interested in getting married. I’m never getting married.’

      ‘Don’t try and con me that you’re not interested in women. I saw that picture of you in the gossip rags the other week, with a certain actress draped all over you. Or are you going to tell me you’re just good friends?’

      ‘No. It was a…’ He compressed his mouth and shook his head in irritation. ‘Toni, for pity’s sake, you’re my little sister. I am not discussing my love life with you.’

      ‘The lack of it, more like. Your women never last more than three dates.’ She sighed. ‘You know that Mummy just wants you to be happy. We all do.’

      ‘I am happy.’

      ‘Settled, then.’

      ‘I have a nice flat in Docklands and a successful business. That counts as settled in most people’s eyes.’

      ‘You know what I mean. Settled with someone.’

      ‘I’m allergic to women with wedding bells in their eyes.’ He paused. ‘I just wish our mother would get off my case.’

      ‘If you hadn’t got cold feet over poor Tabitha, you’d be safely married off by now and Mummy would be happy,’ Antonia pointed out.

      Maybe, but Felix certainly wouldn’t have been. His marriage would have been an utter nightmare. For a moment, he wondered if he should’ve told his family the truth about Tabitha. But then they would’ve been even worse, treating him like a victim, crowding him and pitying him, and he would’ve hated that even more than he hated their constant attempts to fix him up with someone. On balance, it was better that they thought him a heart-breaker who just needed the right woman to tame him.

      Except he didn’t need anyone. He was perfectly happy with his life as it was: with a job that fulfilled him, and dating women who understood right from the start that he wasn’t looking for long-term, just for fun. Because he was never, ever going to put himself in another situation like he had with his ex-fiancée. He would never let his heart be that vulnerable again. ‘Maybe,’ he said.

      ‘Come on, Felix. It won’t be so bad.’

      Oh yes, it would be. His mother must have introduced him to every single blonde with long legs in the whole of Gloucestershire, because she thought he liked leggy blondes.

      Well, he did.

      He just didn’t want to get married to one. Didn’t want to get married to anyone.

      ‘Toni, I really am busy, so I’ll call you later, OK?’

      She sighed. ‘OK. But you’d better, or I’ll ring you.’

      ‘Message received and understood. Bye, sweetie.’

      He put the phone down and leaned back in his chair, frowning. Time to find a cast-iron excuse to avoid his parents. СКАЧАТЬ