Chapter One - An Unexpected Arrival
Episode One
Okay Ava, are you ready? They’re here early and I’ve not even had a coffee yet…
Ava nodded, then wriggled in her seat, her long black stockings snagging as she twisted and turned to make herself comfortable. She hated wearing such cheap alternatives but she had no choice. Mr Smart was on a tight schedule, and Maureen’s was hardly what you’d call haute couture.
Drat! She said to herself. Why today of all days?
It was mid-afternoon at Smart and Sons estate agents, and their new developer would be there any moment. But now her long ladder would expose her for just how human she really was. Beggar the thought!
Ava Smith was a perfectionist. In everything she said and everything she did. She was tall, with an athletic frame, but not what people called pretty, more attractive. Her mouth was small but well-rounded, and she had soft brown eyes, with lashes that required thick mascara to be seen. But Ava turned heads, because she worked on herself every day. Her poise was on point. No slouching here. And her wild, coffee-coloured hair was kept under control at all times, with pretty French plait work woven into its daily designs.
As for Ava’s clothes, they were distinctly designer, and her accessories much the same. She certainly fancied herself more Rita Hayworth than Betty Davis.
I can make myself pretty she decided from an early age, and that is what I will do. And she’d continued in the same vein every day since, so that now she was the best version of Ava Smith she could possibly be.
What are your thoughts, Ava?
Ava looked up. Mr Smart was wearing that expression he always wore when she wasn’t paying attention – the one said he expected more from her.
She pushed forward her report, with long, pale fingers.
It would be an excellent proposition, she replied, if it wasn’t for the water logging. The search revealed the site’s one of potential flood risk, and just because it hasn’t flooded yet, that doesn’t mean it won’t in the future. It’ll take a lot of investment in drainage. And even then, there’s the ongoing maintenance. There’s certainly no guarantees…
Mr Smart sighed, Well that’s certainly food for thought…
Sorry to be the bearer of bad news…
Ava glanced at the two out of town investors sitting on the other side of the glass partition. They’d come a long way. And on such a cold day too.
Market Heaton was an isolated town. It was set deep in the Heaton valley, a little way to the north of Lincoln, old England. Originally it was a secluded agricultural hub, centred around England’s finest carrots and potatoes. But with the wealth that its famous produce brought, and the relatively low cost of land, came those eager to escape the rat race and remind the locals they couldn’t have it this good forever.
Market Heaton was cobbled pathways and quaint shop fronts. It was craggy resting places for the hoards of hikers frequenting it every weekend, and little cafés for dog lovers needing some ‘r and r’ after their daily constitutional. But behind the scenes, it had become a hive of real estate activity, driven by the local developers and Ava’s boss: Paul Smart – a successful figure and local representative of the Country land and business association.
Paul Smart had many fingers in many pies. But of this title he was most proud. It meant respect. And he valued respect highly.
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