Rival Attractions & Innocent Secretary

‘Difficult?’ Charlotte exploded, unable to keep back what she was feeling any longer. ‘Sheila, you can’t seriously stand there and tell me that you’ve really invited Oliver Tennant…to become my lodger. Please tell me it’s just a joke,’ she implored grimly.

Sheila stared at her. ‘But I thought you’d be pleased.’

‘Pleased? Pleased!’ Charlotte was stunned. ‘How could you think that?’

‘Well, for one thing, it will give you an opportunity to keep an eye on him, so to speak,’ Sheila told her. ‘And for another…well, you couldn’t really find a more suitable lodger, could you?’

‘But, Sheila, I don’t want a lodger.’

Now it was Sheila’s turn to stare. ‘But only this morning you said—’

‘No,’ Charlotte corrected her ruthlessly. ‘You said. To be quite honest with you, I think I’d rather sell than share my home with Oliver Tennant—not that it’s come to that yet. You’ll have to telephone him and tell him that there’s been a mistake.’

She looked away from Sheila as she spoke, cravenly hoping that her friend wouldn’t see the emotions she was trying to hide.

Oliver Tennant…sharing her home. Her heart was still thudding like a sledgehammer, the shock of Sheila’s announcement reverberating through her body. She tried in vain to picture the two of them sharing the old house in cosy intimacy, but her mind refused to conjure up any such visions. Oliver Tennant might just be desperate enough to believe that the two of them could live alongside one another in harmony, but she couldn’t believe it. And besides, what on earth would people say? She closed her eyes in stunned dismay that Sheila, of all people, could actually have suggested that Oliver Tennant lodge with her.

Almost as though she had read her mind, Sheila said cautiously, ‘I suppose you’re worried about what people will think.’

‘That’s certainly one of my worries,’ Charlotte agreed grimly. ‘Honestly, Sheila, you know what people are like round here.’

‘Well, yes, but look at it this way—with both of you being unattached, people were bound to gossip, to speculate, to connect the two of you together. This way, the whole thing will be a nine-day wonder and then forgotten.’

Charlotte raised her eyes heavenwards and denounced, ‘I can’t follow your logic at all. You’ll have to ring him.’

As she turned her back, Sheila and Sophy exchanged glances. Clearing her throat, Sophy said quietly, ‘It’s no business of mine, I know, but I think Sheila did the right thing. People round here love a bit of intrigue and mystery; if they think that you and Oliver Tennant are going to become deadly enemies fighting for the major share of the local property market, you’ll both become subject to all kinds of speculation. This way, people will just assume that you’ve come to some harmonious agreement. The fact that he’s sharing your home will raise a few eyebrows at first, but once people realise—’

‘How unlikely that a man like him would be interested in someone like me,’ Charlotte supplied bitterly for her. ‘Yes, well, I suppose you’re right about that, but neither of you seem to have stopped to think that I might not want a lodger at all…any lodger.’

‘But you agreed earlier that it would be a good thing. Personally I’ll feel a lot easier in my mind if he is there. I’ve been worrying about you ever since Henry died and I don’t mind admitting it. You are off the beaten track, you know, no matter how much you might deny it,’ insisted Sheila.

Biting back the acid comment that a bedridden father would surely have been no defence against any would-be attacker, Charlotte struggled to preserve her temper. She couldn’t understand what had got into Sheila. She was normally so circumspect…

‘I can’t understand why Oliver Tennant should have agreed with your suggestion.’

‘Agreed? He nearly bit my hand off,’ Sheila told her, with what Charlotte suspected was an exaggeration. ‘I only mentioned it idly really, as you do, but he insisted that I tell him more about the house and the more I told him, the more he seemed to like the idea.’

‘He might, but I don’t!’ Charlotte retorted.

‘Well, he’s going to see about getting a tenancy agreement drawn up,’ Sheila continued. ‘It seems that, because they deal with rented property such a lot in London, he knows a solicitor who’s familiar with the ins and outs of such agreements. He said he’d call round with it tomorrow.’

Charlotte stared at her. She couldn’t believe what was happening.