Free A French Affair by Katie Fforde Page A

‘But if you buy things we don’t like – or I don’t like – wewon’t be able to sell them. I have to choose the pieces,’ she said firmly.
    ‘But if the dealer knows I’m buying them for you he’ll still charge more.’
    Gina had to agree this was true. ‘OK, we’ll amble past, deep in conversation, and I’ll tell you what I’ve liked when we’re out of earshot.’
    Matthew looked down at her. ‘You are completely mad, you know that? Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to just get some things I know you can make a profit on?’
    Gina’s business brain said yes, this was the sensible solution, but she felt if she started her career as an antiques dealer depending on others completely, she might never have the courage to break free. ‘I’m sure. Let’s do this.’
    She took hold of his arm, leaning into it so she could look absorbed in him while really having a good look at the stall. ‘Walk really slowly and pretend we’re deep in conversation,’ she said.
    ‘What are we talking about?’ said Matthew.
    ‘It doesn’t matter.’
    ‘Yes it does. I can’t be deep and meaningful if I don’t know what I’m supposed to be feeling.’
    Gina was surprised. ‘You’re not making a joke, are you?’
    ‘Good God no! As if. I just need to get into my part.’
    Pushing aside the thought that he might have a sense of humour, Gina applied herself to a subject that could be engrossing them. ‘Could we be discussing where we’re going on holiday?’ It was the only thing she could come up with that felt safe.
    ‘Not at Newark. No, we’ll discuss whether or not to buy the huge armoire we saw earlier. Will it fit in the dining room or not.’
    They hadn’t seen an armoire but she got the point. ‘Oh, OK. Let’s do it then.’
    Matthew threw himself into the part. He gripped her arm. ‘Darling, I think if we threw out every other bit of furniture that armoire could look really quite important . . .’
    She was momentarily thrown by his use of ‘darling’, then she reminded herself he was only playing a part. And if they weren’t a couple, they’d have to be colleagues which could reveal her complete lack of knowledge. She picked up the line and ran with it. ‘But what would we eat off if we threw out the table and chairs? We’d have an armoire we could almost move into and have to eat Christmas dinner off our knees!’ Gina’s often buried sense of the ridiculous burst forth.
    ‘Don’t forget to look at the stall,’ prompted Matthew as they became level with it.
    Gina did her best to peruse the stall while walking along. She spotted an interestingly shaped vase and what seemed to be an oddly sized tile.
    ‘OK, can we go back the other way so I can have another look?’ she said.
    ‘Do you want to change arms? That would look odd.’
    ‘No, I can look across.’ Gina rather liked holding Matthew’s arm. He felt strong and his overcoat, although old enough to have been his father’s, was cashmere.
    They turned and then set off again a few yards up the alley between two rows of stalls and then back again.
    ‘Seen anything else?’ said Matthew.
    Gina had been wondering why she found it so nice hanging on to Matthew’s arm as she walked. She put it down to her latish night and early start. ‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘I was distracted by the thought of being with a man who’d throw out all the dining-room furniture for what is really just a posh wardrobe.’
    ‘We’ll make another pass then.’
    Gina giggled at his fencing terminology but did remember to have a good look.
    ‘OK, I saw some really nice coffee cups—’
    ‘Cans.’
    He was such a stickler. ‘Cans then, and another vase, but really I think I need a closer look. Then you can get an idea of what I like and I might not mind you doing the buying.’
    To his credit, he didn’t sigh. ‘Fair enough.’
    As a couple, they wheeled into the stall. ‘Oh
darling
,’ said Gina, now well into her role. ‘I really like those coffee