By two o’clock, they’d arrived in St. Carys, where the third of the shortlisted properties was situated.
“Here we are then.” Jumping out of the rental car and shielding her eyes from the sun as she peered up at the third-floor apartment, Belle said, “It’s like ‘Goldilocks and the Three Bears,’ isn’t it? The first place was too boring, and the second place was too interesting. Let’s hope this one is going to be just right.”
Obviously Belle wanted it to be the one Sam chose. Then he’d be right here in her own home town. Clemency, who wasn’t so sure how she felt about it, was torn. It went against the grain to not want to sell a property, but just seeing Sam again today had been unsettling. Did she really want him to buy a place in St. Carys? Yet the apartment was stunning. Once he clapped eyes on it, was there the remotest chance he’d say no?
Five minutes later, she discovered the answer to that question. The views were fantastic. Everything about the place was about as perfect as any potential owner could want. The wraparound balcony was big enough to throw a party on…
Which was apparently what was happening right now, in the penthouse apartment directly above their heads.
In fact, it was sounding like quite an intimate party. Oh God.
“Listen to them,” Belle exclaimed, slow on the uptake. “What is going on up there?”
Sam, who wasn’t slow on the uptake, said wryly, “I think it might be some kind of exercise class.”
As a real estate agent, it wasn’t the first time Clemency had overheard something she’d have preferred not to overhear during the course of a viewing, but this was without a doubt the loudest.
And appeared to involve the largest number of…well, participants.
OK, this was officially awkward.
“Oh!” The penny finally dropped and Belle clapped her hands over her mouth. “Oh my God.”
Overhead, the gasps and shrieks appeared to be escalating. Belle said, “I don’t believe it! Clem, make it stop.”
“Seriously?” Clemency looked at her. “How do I go about doing that?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Marching out on to the balcony, Belle bellowed, “Hey you! Up there! We can all hear you, you know…You have to stop making that noise this minute!”
They heard laughter amid the other sounds, followed by the pop of a champagne cork, which sailed over the edge of the balcony. A male voice called out, “We like it best when we know people are listening.”
“Well, you’re disgusting,” Belle yelled back, “and you should all be ashamed of yourselves.”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” a female voice shouted down to them. “Come up and join us if you want. Don’t be shy! The more the merrier!”
As they were leaving, they encountered the occupier of the flat below the one they’d just viewed. Clemency stopped the middle-aged woman. “Hi, excuse me…do you happen to know if the people in the penthouse apartment are the owners? Or is it rented out to vacationers?” Because if they were only going to be staying for a week or two, it wouldn’t be a problem after all.
“You mean the Carters?” The middle-aged woman rolled her eyes. “You’re from the real estate agency, aren’t you? And this is the first time you’ve heard them having an orgy? Well, all I can say is, lucky you. They bought the place in January and they’ve been inviting their so-called friends around most afternoons ever since.”
“Oh.” Clemency’s heart sank.
“The Jeffersons didn’t happen to mention that to you, I’m guessing? Thought they wouldn’t. Why else do you suppose they’re so desperate to move out? God only knows how you’re ever going to sell that place. Those new people are a living nightmare.”
Oh dear. The Jeffersons should have told them. Not only had Clemency failed to find Sam a suitable property to buy, they were going to have to drop the price of this one.
“Maybe you could offer any buyers a lifetime’s supply of industrial earplugs,” said Sam.