The Corner Shop of Whispers Read online

  ‘Well if you slice up some fresh melon, strawberries and grapes on a side plate, and give Tom and the children homemade muesli with organic milk, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with being swathed in cashmere. I don’t wish to be unkind, Daisy, but how on earth do you attract Tom’s attention when you always look like you’ve fallen into a wheelie bin?’

  ‘Ali, I don’t wish to be unkind either, but if you don’t shut up insulting me in my own house I might punch your lights out.’

  Alison glared at Daisy for a moment, but then visibly crumpled. ‘Sorry. I’m a bit stressed.’

  Daisy, never one to hold a grudge, leant forward and gave our neighbour a hug before sitting down next to her. ‘So tell me and Florrie the reasons why you think Henry is having an affair.’

  ‘Well,’ Alison shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable. ‘We don’t…’ Daisy and I looked at her expectantly. ‘You know.’

  Daisy looked mystified. ‘What?’

  ‘You know,’ Alison repeated, suddenly awkward. Clearly her prissy upbringing was well and truly coming to the fore right now. ‘We don’t have…sex.’ She mouthed the last word again. ‘Well, hardly ever anyway.’

  ‘Ahh,’ said Daisy, the dawn suddenly coming up. ‘Because you no longer fancy Henry.’

  ‘Sorry?’ Now it was Alison’s turn to look confounded.

  ‘Well, he is fifty, isn’t he?’ Daisy reasoned. ‘And you’re only thirty-seven. It’s quite an age gap. You’re probably still revving up in the loins department whereas Henry probably needs Viagra.’

  ‘I’ve already told you his dangly bit goes up and down. Why would he need Viagra?’

  ‘Oh. Is it you who needs Viagra?’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Daisy. Neither of us need Viagra. And why do you keep going on about Henry’s age?’ Alison was getting agitated again. ‘He’s a very sexy man.’

  ‘Is he?’ Daisy looked across at me for confirmation.

  To be honest, Henry didn’t make me swoon. Not remotely. But I couldn’t say that to Alison. I nodded at Daisy. ‘Mmm. Henry is very…sort of…Kojak,’ I nodded.

  ‘Kojak?’ Daisy’s eyebrows shot upwards. ‘You mean the bald guy with the big nose?’

  ‘The very one,’ I tried to give Daisy a discreet pleading look for tact. ‘Absolute pin-up in his heyday.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Alison smugly. ‘Henry is extremely sexy to lots of women. But somebody out there isn’t just finding him sexy, they are getting the full works.’

  ‘The works?’ Daisy looked blank.

  ‘Yes!’ Alison said impatiently. ‘Some woman is availing her services to him.’

  ‘Services!’ Daisy scoffed. ‘Why can’t you just talk like me and Florrie and say that some two-faced tart is bonking him.’

  ‘Daisy,’ said Alison in a pained voice. ‘We’ve known each other for a few years now. When have you ever heard me use the word…’ she paused before mouthing, ‘bonk?’

  ‘Oh stop being so uptight, Ali,’ Daisy pooh-poohed our neighbour’s rigid desire to behave like a lady at all times. ‘It’s high time you loosened up and said things how they are – Henry’s todger still works and he’s waving it around at some female and rogering her senseless.’

  Alison gave a little gasp at such frankness, but Daisy ploughed on regardless.

  ‘If you really think this is the case, then you must confront Henry. Preferably when armed with a rolling pin. But not when you have PMT,’ Daisy added hastily. ‘You don’t want to make a mess over the carpet.’

  ‘Daisy, you really aren’t helping,’ Alison cried in exasperation.

  ‘So to get back on topic,’ I prompted. ‘Do you have evidence of this suspected affair?’

  Alison took a deep breath. ‘I think so. Yes.’ She closed her eyes for a moment, as if trying to blot out an awful memory. When she opened them again they were far away, clearly recalling something unpleasant. ‘I went through Henry’s last few credit card statements looking for clues.’ She paused, struggling for composure. ‘Last Christmas he spent thousands of pounds at a Hatton Garden jeweller. He bought two bracelets. I received one of them.’

  ‘Perhaps he’s saving the other bracelet for your birthday,’ I suggested.

  Alison shook her head. ‘No. You see, I rang the jeweller in question. Both bracelets were identical.’

  Daisy frowned. ‘Why would Henry buy two identical bracelets?’

  ‘I’m coming to that,’ Alison’s lip wobbled slightly. ‘My bracelet had an inscription on the inside. It said, “To dear Alison with love from Henry.” I asked the jeweller if the other bracelet had been inscribed with a message. The jeweller confirmed this to be the case. I asked him what the engraving was.’ Alison’s voice cracked slightly. ‘The jeweller went off to check the paperwork.’

  Suddenly Daisy and I were holding our breath.

  ‘And?’ Daisy prompted. She looked both fascinated and horrified. There had never been a situation like this on the Jeremy Kyle show.

  When Alison next spoke her voice was little more than a whimper. ‘The inscription on the second bracelet had said, “To the most beautiful woman in the world with all my love.”’

  The breath whooshed out of Daisy and I in one big chuggy gasp.

  ‘Oh,’ we chorused.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ Alison wailed.

  We contemplated for a moment. What to do indeed.

  ‘Do you still love Henry?’ Daisy asked.

  ‘Of course!’ she said looking shocked. ‘I have a beautiful house, my daughter is in the best school for miles, and I’m accepted into the homes of people like Harriet Montgomery.’

  ‘That’s not love,’ I said gently. ‘That’s a lifestyle.’

  ‘Same thing,’ Alison snapped. ‘I love my lifestyle. And I’m not about to have it jeopardised by some little hussy with a nose piercing and a skirt hem up round her ear lobes.’

  ‘Do you know who she is then?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ve a good idea,’ Alison’s eyes narrowed. ‘One of the secretaries was all over him at the Christmas ‘do’. A typical cliché of a woman. Peroxide blonde hair. Cheap red lipstick. I could almost see a flashing neon sign over her head saying “I want you to be my Sugar Daddy.”’

  ‘I see,’ Daisy puffed out her cheeks. ‘So do you actually want to stay married to Henry?’

  ‘Of course I want to stay married to Henry,’ Alison snapped.

  ‘Well in that case,’ Daisy said conspiratorially, ‘we’re going to have to catch Henry out.’ She looked from Alison to me, her eyes shining like they did when she first opened the door to us an hour ago. ‘We’re going to set a trap.’

  Chapter Four

  ‘Oh for goodness sake, Daisy,’ said Alison irritably. ‘I’m sure you mean well, but this isn’t a scene on the Jeremy Kyle show. This is my life we’re talking about. Setting a trap for Henry is an absolutely ridiculous idea. And anyway,’ she paused, curiosity getting the better of her, ‘what sort of trap had you got in mind?’

  ‘I could flirt with him at the May Ball,’ said Daisy thoughtfully. ‘See if he reciprocates.’

  ‘That’s all well and good,’ I pointed out kindly, ‘but flirting is usually harmless. It’s not going to achieve anything. I mean, people flirt all the time, don’t they?’

  ‘Do they?’ Alison and Daisy chorused. Suddenly two pairs of unblinking eyes had me pinned to the sofa.

  ‘Well, y-yes,’ I stuttered, ‘to a degree.’

  ‘I thought you only had eyes for Marcus,’ said Daisy accusingly. ‘So tell us. Who do you flirt with?’

  I blotted out the memory of a certain male who had definitely flirted with me on numerous occasions in the last few months. He’d had a profound effect on both my knees and insides. The former had turned to jelly, and the latter to mush. Instead I furrowed my brow in apparent concentration.

  ‘Well, I quite like to flirt with…um…with…er…the postman.’

  ‘The postman?’ Alison gasped in horror.


  ‘You can’t be serious?’ Daisy scoffed. ‘Trevor’s coming up for retirement. Are you like our Alison and get turned on by oldies with saggy jaw lines?’

  ‘Henry does not have a saggy jawline,’ Alison protested.

  Daisy ignored her. ‘Spill the beans, Florrie. Tell us how you flirt with Trevor.’

  ‘W-well, he likes to banter about the weather. You know, he says what a lovely warm day it is and…and he gives a little grin and a wink.’

  ‘I see,’ said Daisy, clearly not seeing at all. ‘And this prompts you to respond in a coquettish manner, does it?’

  ‘Er, y-yes. Last time I said it was a beautiful day to be delivering letters. And then I thanked him for his big packet and he…he said the pleasure was all his because…it had been a joy placing it in my perfectly formed letterbox. It was all…very intense.’

  ‘Good God,’ said Alison.

  Daisy sucked on her teeth. ‘I think you need to get out more, Florrie. All this painting you do cooped up in your loft room day after day isn’t doing you any good. The sooner we get you to Harriet’s May Ball the better. You clearly need to do some dancing and let off a bit of steam. You might as well do it now while you can still shimmy into a sexy evening dress and aren’t huge with child.’ She turned to Alison. ‘And you leave Henry to me. I shall ply him with champagne, get him on the dance floor, tell him I’ve always had a crush on Telly Savalas and flatter all his deepest secrets out of him.’

  Alison grunted. ‘And what about Tom? Won’t he mind his wife taking a sudden interest in a male neighbour two doors down?’

  ‘Not at all – because Florrie is going to distract him.’ She turned to me, eyes blazing with triumph. ‘You can flirt with Tom,’ said Daisy jubilantly. ‘And anyway, it’s about time I injected some fire into my marriage. It’s gone stale. I mean, look at me,’ Daisy got up and flung her arms wide so we could see her properly. ‘It’s nearly midday and I’m still in my yucky pyjamas. I wouldn’t even turn the postman’s head right now. It’s time to shake things up,’ she declared, suddenly fired-up. ‘I’m going to dolly myself up to the nines for this ball. I shall drink half a dozen cans of energy jollop so I can stay awake until the early hours. I’m going to show my husband I’m not just a slummy mummy, I’m actually a gorgeous yummy mummy who neighbour Henry has the hots for.’

  ‘And what am I meant to be doing while all this flirting is going on?’ Alison pointed out. ‘Stand around like a spare part?’

  ‘Nope,’ Daisy assured. ‘Florrie here is going to have a discreet word with Marcus who will flirt like mad with you and get Henry all wound up!’

  ‘I don’t want Marcus flirting with me,’ Alison protested. ‘I just want to know who Henry is having an affair with.’

  ‘Leave it to me,’ Daisy tapped the side of her nose. ‘Detective Daisy will get to the bottom of it. Oh, and a few ground rules, girls. No snogging each other’s husbands while all this flirting is taking place.’

  Alison looked aghast. ‘The thought hadn’t even occurred to me.’

  ‘I know,’ Daisy smiled, ‘because our husbands are too young for your sophisticated taste.’

  Alison sighed and stood up. ‘I really must go. Well thank you, Daisy and Florrie, for at least cheering me up a bit and helping me dry my tears. I’m so sorry for raining on your baby parade, Florrie.’ I stood up too, accepting Alison’s hug. ‘It’s wonderful news,’ she said. ‘Truly. Tell Marcus I said “congratulations” too.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, giving her a quick squeeze back. ‘Will do.’

  ‘I must hurry. Harriet will wonder where on earth I’ve got to.’

  I turned to Daisy. ‘Thanks for the coffee and the company.’ We embraced each other. ‘I need to crack on with my painting. The restaurant wants it as soon as possible.’

  ‘Actually,’ said Alison, as she proffered her cheek to Daisy for pecking, ‘Harriet was talking about commissioning an artist. She wants to surprise Martin with a painting of her for their forthcoming anniversary. I’ll mention your name.’

  ‘Wow, that’s awfully good of you, Ali. Thanks.’

  I followed Alison and Daisy out to the hallway. As Daisy opened the front door for us, our postie just happened to be there astride his red bicycle.

  ‘Morning, girls,’ he beamed and handed Daisy an envelope with a wink. ‘Nice day for it. I was just about to touch your knocker,’ his eyes snagged on Daisy’s baked bean and egg stained pyjama top, ‘but you instantly came and saved me the effort of dismounting.’

  ‘I see what you mean,’ Alison murmured in my ear. ‘I’ve never noticed the innuendo before. I might report him to the Post Office.’

  ‘Please don’t,’ I paled.

  ‘Hello, Trevor,’ Daisy gave our postman a cheeky grin. ‘I’ve been hearing all about you and your enormous package. Who’s a naughty boy then! I do hope you’re going to Harriet Montgomery’s May Ball. There’s going to be a bevy of beautiful ladies there, including the three lovely visions standing before your very eyes. You can forget all about the sorting office and sort us out instead.’

  Trevor stared at Daisy, suddenly uncertain. ‘Ah ha ha ha,’ he laughed nervously. ‘Yes. I’ll be there. With the missus,’ he added hastily, before turning his bicycle around and smartly peddling off.

  ‘Oooh, I’m enjoying this flirting lark,’ Daisy smiled at us.

  Alison shook her head in exasperation while my own thoughts momentarily fragmented and travelled a little way back through time. In my mind I could see his eyes. Dark liquid pools, full of unspoken promises. Without a doubt there had been flirting. But not coarse or brazen, like Daisy had just demonstrated with Trevor. Instead it had been subtle, and wonderful, and had pretty much set my soul on fire.

  I didn’t dare tell the girls, but privately I thought flirting was a very dangerous game.

  Chapter Five

  I first met Luca while having a girlie lunch with Alison and Daisy. We were at Serafino’s Cucina in nearby Sevenoaks. It was one of those trendy looking restaurants with a rustic New York-style interior where they served bread from a wood oven, and the waiters and waitresses wore long midnight-blue aprons over white shirts and black jeans. That was six months ago. Alison had been keen to try the new bistro.

  ‘I’ve been to their flagship restaurant in London,’ she’d gushed, ‘and it was just the most amazing food. Henry takes a lot of his clients there, and is very good friends with the owner, Pepe Serafino. Pepe has four sons. One by one Pepe has opened restaurants across the South-East with each son taking charge. Now it’s the youngest son’s turn. His name is Luca. Pepe said that Luca had been working for his father-in-law but there was a massive falling out after the tragic death of Luca’s young wife, Maria. Maria and Luca had had a silly argument and she’d stormed out of the house. As Maria had stomped along the pavement, she’d been hit by a drunk driver. It was absolutely a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Luca blamed himself for his wife’s death. His father-in-law blamed him too and wanted nothing more to do with Luca. So despite being broken hearted and bereft, Luca was sacked from his deceased wife’s family business and booted out of the matrimonial home. Their house had been a wedding gift from his in-laws, but was instantly reclaimed after Maria’s death. Luca didn’t contest it. He was burdened by guilt and grief. The last thing he wanted was to hang around being a constant reminder and source of loathing to his in-laws. So Pepe persuaded Luca to come home and take over his own family’s latest restaurant. And very well it’s doing too.’

  Daisy, Alison and I had gone into the bistro and made ourselves comfortable at a table by the window. I’d instantly been distracted by the view. Across the quaint street and behind a low white picket fence, was a large pond. Numerous ducks bobbed about rippling the silvery surface. The peaceful scene was framed by two enormous weeping willows, their boughs draped around the water’s edge. I’d immediately wanted to paint it.

  ‘Sorry, she’s miles away,’ I heard Daisy say to somebody. ‘Earth t
o Florrie, do you hear me?’

  I dragged my eyes away from the gorgeous view and, looking up, found myself looking at a completely different bit of gorgeousness. Standing to one side of our table was a devastatingly handsome man. His effect on me was immediate. One moment I was a composed diner in a restaurant, the next I was behaving like a blithering idiot.

  ‘Il menu, Signorina?’ he murmured.

  With a shaking hand I reached across to take the menu, unfortunately clipping a number of glasses in the process. They fell with a clatter and rolled across the table. Luckily all the glasses were empty so nothing spilt and thankfully none broke either. However, the noise was enough to momentarily hush other diners. They instantly craned their necks to regard the source of disruption to their dining harmony.

  ‘Please, Signorina. It’s not a problem,’ murmured the man. ‘Let me.’

  I grabbed the tall laminated menu from him and attempted to hide behind it as the man righted the clutch of wine glasses and squat tumblers. An unattractive blush stained my cheeks as I stared at the writing within whilst failing to actually read one word.

  ‘Are you all right, Florrie?’ Daisy whispered.

  ‘Yes,’ I mumbled. My voice had shrivelled to nothing, not helped by the fact that someone was smoking. I frowned. Surely there was a no smoking policy in restaurants?

  ‘Florrie, you’re smoking,’ said Alison.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ I croaked.

  ‘Signorina,’ said the man urgently, ‘allow me, please.’ Suddenly the menu was being whisked out of my hands. Smoke trails wisped across the table. ‘You had one corner dipped in the tea light,’ the man explained, nodding at the ornamental candle centrepiece. ‘Have a fresh menu.’

  Oh God. How embarrassing. ‘Thank you,’ I mumbled and leant forward to accept the replacement menu. This time our hands brushed together and instantly the small hairs on the back of my neck prickled. Flustered, I dropped the menu, knocking over a pair of hefty salt and pepper pots in the process. They smacked down against the table top with all the noise of a strike at ten pin bowling.