by Anna Jacobs
‘Well, there’s no rush to do anything tomorrow, is there? We’re not moving for a couple of months because Jim has to help close things down at this end. But with two other children to raise, we can’t do as much as we’d like for you and there simply isn’t room for you to come to us.’
As they drove home, Nikki thought how kind the Heyters had been and tears welled in her eyes again.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘I’m thinking how kind your parents were, even though they’ve got their own problems. And my mother is . . .’ She didn’t try to finish the sentence, didn’t need to. He’d met her mother. He knew what her mother was like. She wasn’t unfair or anything, but she always felt she knew best.
The school nurse had been kind too, and, next week, Nikki was seeing a counsellor.
But though she tried to put on a brave face, she was terrified. She woke at night just about shivering with fear. She wasn’t ready to become a mother, didn’t know the first thing about babies, didn’t want to give up her plans for university. She’d worked so hard to get on to an engineering course.
Her mother was right about one thing. She had been stupid. She shouldn’t have risked anything once she realized she’d forgotten her birth control pills.
Five
Lou knocked on the door of the flat, grateful there was a lift. When Miranda opened it, he said nothing about the fact that she’d obviously been crying, just reached up from his wheelchair and pulled her down for a quick hug. ‘Clever woman! It can’t have been easy.’
‘No. I hardly got any sleep last night for worrying.’
He held out the bag. ‘Wine. For our celebration.’ He rolled inside, stopped and whistled softly. ‘You’ll have to clear me a path through the debris first.’
‘I wouldn’t have brought this much furniture with me, but Sebastian is still checking whether these really are my things and I thought if I left them behind, I might never see them again. It’s a terrible thing not to trust your own brother.’
‘I get the impression he’s not one of Sally’s favourite people, either.’
‘What if he refuses to see her?’
He laughed heartily. ‘No one refuses Sally Patel. That woman will be a judge one day soon, mark my words.’ He rolled his chair forward as far as he could, shaking his head as he stared round. ‘You can’t possibly sleep in this chaos. Why don’t you move your personal possessions to my house today and just use this place for storage? I was going to offer to stay the night with you here, but there’s not enough room for my hot rod.’
He rolled his wheelchair to and fro, making vrooming noises, and managed to draw a feeble smile from her.
‘You said you wanted to find somewhere else to live, Lou. I thought I’d move in with you then.’
‘I want to do that quickly, so we’ll get on to it first thing tomorrow. Come and stay for a few days, try me out as a house sharer. My spare bedroom’s bigger than your main bedroom. Your things will be quite safe here. After all, we changed the lock and put in a security system, didn’t we?’
She hesitated, the old Miranda still afraid to take this step, then what she thought of as her new self took over. ‘I’d love to stay with you, Lou. I hate this place. It makes my soul shrivel.’
‘It makes me want to sue the architects.’
She packed some things and followed him in her car, which, thank goodness, was registered in her own name; one of the few major presents her father had given her during a period when he was annoyed with Sebastian. Sighing in relief, she took first her suitcase then her computer up to the guest bedroom. She felt completely at ease here, at ease with him, too.
If only . . .
That evening Lou fell asleep as they watched TV and she studied him while keeping an eye on the antiques programme. He must have been good-looking as a young man, and still had quite a presence, but he’d been absolutely exhausted by the end of the day. He never complained but she’d seen him wincing a few times as if in pain. She’d try to make him rest regularly.
The next thing she knew he was waking her up, laughing at the way they’d both fallen asleep, and chivvying her along to bed.
As she snuggled down, she thought how easy it would have been to fall in love with a man like him. But he’d made it very plain that he didn’t want that, and anyway, it’d be stupid when there was no future in a relationship. She wasn’t stupid.
He couldn’t stop her getting fond of him, though, as a dear friend. She already felt as if she’d known him for years.
Sebastian eyed Sally Patel across the desk. When she’d rung him personally, he’d not liked to refuse to see her because she was so well respected in the legal community. She’d said, ‘just for a preliminary chat’, so he hoped it wouldn’t take long. He sighed. ‘I don’t understand why Minnie is making such a fuss.’
She smiled sweetly. ‘To whom are you referring?’
‘You know very well – my stepsister, your client.’
‘My client is called Miranda.’
He felt anger rise but reined it in. ‘The family have always called her Minnie.’
‘She put up with that only because of her father. Now that he’s dead, she’s made it plain that she wishes to use her real name, and that’s the only one we’ll be using in court.’
He corrected himself grudgingly. ‘Miranda, then. She won’t manage to overthrow the will, even with your help, Sally. I made very sure everything was done properly.’
She smiled, a gentle yet relentless smile that had put fear into the hearts of many a wrongdoer – and their legal representatives. Even he didn’t like that smile.
‘That remains to be seen. Apparently your father was starting to show signs of Alzheimer’s and you knew it.’
‘How did you find that out? Anyway, it hadn’t progressed so far that he didn’t understand what he was doing. I got that from the doctor in writing.’
Her smile didn’t falter. If anything, she looked more confident.
‘And even if you do manage to get a few things changed in the will, it’ll cost Min— oh, very well, Miranda, what the estate’s worth in legal fees. Where’s the win for her in that?’
Glee danced in her eyes. ‘As I shall be doing this job pro bono, your sister won’t have to pay me any legal fees. It’s only you who’ll be out of pocket.’
‘Why the hell would you do that, Sally? You don’t know her from Adam.’
‘I always enjoy a good tussle and I owe Lou Rayne a lot. He cares about Miranda. I can’t do much for him now, but he’s happier knowing I’ll be looking after her . . . when he no longer can.’
‘You’re bluffing.’
‘Am I? We shall see. In the meantime, I’d like to agree on an income for Ms Fox, a reasonable income from her father’s estate, as the will specifies. I spoke to your fellow trustee and we agreed on a figure. Your initial offer was totally unacceptable.’
‘Tressman and I had already decided what would be suitable – generous even – for a woman of Minnie’s age living quietly.’
The look Sally gave him made him adjust his collar, which suddenly seemed too tight.
‘Why should Ms Fox want to live quietly? I’m two years older than she is and I don’t consider my life over yet. Not nearly over.’ Sally’s foot began tapping. ‘So . . . are we agreed?’
‘For the time being. As a temporary measure. We’ll await the outcome of her legal challenge.’
‘I hadn’t realized how mean you were, Sebastian Fox.’
He blinked in shock at her frank insult. ‘I prefer to call it prudent. I’m her trustee. I must be careful with her money.’
‘Miserly would be a more accurate term. But we’ll leave it at that for the moment. There’s just one other thing to sort out. I believe your wife borrowed some of your stepsister’s jewellery without her permission. If you’ll send the pieces round to me by noon tomorrow, we can clear the slate about that.’
‘Surely it can wait till after the ball?’
; ‘I’m afraid not. My client is keen to get the jewels valued.’
‘Oh, very well. I’ll send the jewellery directly to Minnie.’ He caught her eye and amended it again to, ‘Miranda.’
‘I’d prefer to check for myself that everything’s in order. Things can so easily get . . . mislaid.’
When Sally had left, he rang his wife. ‘Could you bring Minnie’s jewellery into the office this afternoon, Dorothy? I’m afraid we have to give it back.’
‘But you said I could borrow it for the ball. She never uses it, after all.’
‘Yes. But she’s being awkward. Do this for me.’
‘I’ll bring it round about two thirty. Regina and I are going to lunch at the club first.’
‘That’ll be fine. Make sure you keep Regina on side. We don’t want her supporting Minnie in any way.’
‘Yes, of course.’
When he’d put the phone down, he began to doodle on his notepad, his favourite way of concentrating his thoughts on a problem. Minnie wasn’t going to get away with this, Sally or no Sally. He suddenly drew a triumphant flourish across the pad as a possible solution came to him. She’d been hospitalized for depression. With a little careful groundwork beforehand, he’d be able to suggest that this was why their father had wanted someone else to look after her money. He might even be able to go further.
Even Sally Patel couldn’t win every single case.
He’d have to tread very carefully, though.
On his way home, Sebastian decided to stop briefly at Minnie’s flat to check that the move had gone smoothly and make his ongoing presence felt.
He rapped on the door, then knocked again. She must be out. Good. He could check what she’d taken from the house. Pulling his key out, he tried to insert it in the lock, but it no longer fitted. When he studied it closely, he could see that it was a new lock.
The bitch! She didn’t own this flat, the trust did. She had no reason whatsoever to refuse him access. He went downstairs and found the caretaker, a slovenly woman who lived in a small flat at the rear.
‘I need to get into Flat Thirty.’
‘The new tenant’s just moved in. She’s a female.’ She consulted a list. ‘A Ms Fox.’
‘I’m her brother.’ He handed her one of his cards. ‘And her lawyer.’
‘Ah.’
He waited while she studied him thoughtfully. ‘Well?’
‘You’re Sebastian Fox, eh.’
‘Yes. If that’s any of your business.’
‘Well, it is my business, sir, because I’m the caretaker here. I’ve been told by Ms Fox to let no one into the flat, whatever excuse they give. And you’ve been named as one who might try to claim he’s an exception.’
‘I am an exception. I’m Miss Fox’s trustee. The trust owns the flat. She doesn’t. So I have every right to inspect it.’
She shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know about that. You’ll have to arrange it with her. All I know is, she says not to let you in. Well, I’d not let any man into a woman’s flat unless she told me herself it was all right. You can’t be too careful these days.’
‘Do I look like a damned criminal?’
Another shrug was his only answer and before he could stop her, she closed the door in his face.
He hesitated but the interview with Sally Patel still rankled. And he was the trustee. He took out his mobile phone and rang a locksmith he’d used before, then went up to wait outside the flat, pacing up and down the corridor impatiently.
A man arrived twenty minutes later. ‘I’ve locked myself out. Can you let me in?’
Instead the man looked at the sign beside the door, saying the flat was under surveillance by the Andover Security Company. He pulled out his mobile phone.
After a brief chat, he asked, ‘What did you say your name was, sir?’
‘Sebastian Fox. I’m the owner’s trustee and brother.’
‘Well, you’re listed as someone who might try to get in without her permission, so I’m not touching this lock. And if you persist in trying to gain entry, I’ll have to call the police.’
‘I have every right to inspect this flat.’
The man stepped back. ‘You’ll have to take that up with the owner, sir.’
‘She is not the owner!’
The man shrugged.
Sebastian watched him walk away. Turning, he muttered, ‘You’ll be sorry for this, Minnie. Very sorry.’
Then he drove home, where he could let his temper out. His wife’s attentiveness and obvious nervousness soothed him a little, but Regina’s barely concealed amusement at his tale only poured salt on the wound to his self-esteem.
Miranda woke up feeling a sense of profound well-being. She lay studying the room, then heard sounds from the living area and got out of bed, pulling on her new dressing gown then going rather self-consciously into the kitchen barefoot, because she’d forgotten to bring her slippers.
Lou turned to smile at her. ‘I hope I didn’t wake you. I’m an inveterate early riser, I’m afraid.’
‘I am too, usually, but I slept in a bit. What a comfy bed that is!’
‘Or maybe you just feel more relaxed here?’
She nodded.
‘I’ve been on the Internet looking at rentals. I think that’d be the best solution for you and me. Thank goodness Australia’s not a land of two- and three-storey houses, like the UK! I’ve found one or two places for us to look at, which say they’re wheelchair friendly.’
‘You must have been up for hours.’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve never needed much sleep, even less now.’
‘Shall I make breakfast?’
‘For yourself. I’ve had a bite of toast. It’s all I want this morning. But I’d love to sit and chat to you while you eat, if that won’t give you indigestion?’
By lunchtime they’d inspected two houses, both unsuitable, discussed their needs with the real estate salesman and arranged to see another place that afternoon.
When they got back, there was a light blinking on the answering machine.
‘See if you recognize this number, Miranda,’ Lou called.
She glanced at it and sighed. ‘Sebastian.’
‘It might be your sister.’ He pressed the play button and put the phone on speaker.
Sebastian’s voice boomed out. ‘Call me back at once, Minnie.’
Lou grinned and she found herself growing less tense by the second. ‘Erase it,’ she said.
‘Good idea.’
The phone rang and he checked it. ‘Someone’s mobile . . . Yes? Lou Rayne here.’
He listened for a moment, then held the phone out to Miranda. ‘The caretaker at your block of flats.’
She took it reluctantly. ‘Mrs Sarino . . . ? Yes . . . Yes, you definitely did the right thing . . . He didn’t . . . ! Well! Thank you so much for letting me know. I’m really grateful.’
She put the phone down. ‘Sebastian went round and tried to get into the flat. When Mrs Sarino refused to let him in, he called a locksmith. Luckily the man rang our security firm and they not only refused to let my brother in, but threatened to call the police.’
Lou roared with laughter.
Her smile was fleeting. ‘No wonder Sebastian sounded furious on the voicemail.’
‘He can be as furious as he wants. And stop looking so worried.’
‘I get worried too easily, don’t I?’
‘Yes, but by the time I’m finished with you, you’ll cope better. I’m a good mentor, Miranda, and in case you start worrying about me, as well, I’m enjoying having something to do.’
‘But you get so tired. I shouldn’t be imposing on you.’
‘Better to be tired and have plenty to think of than sit and worry about how fast my health is going downhill. Now, I’d be grateful if you’d make us some lunch, then I’ll have a little rest before we go out again.’
The house they went to look at in the afternoon was huge and two storied, with a lift. It overlooked the Swan river and to
one side, further down, were the pens of a yacht club, with luxury vessels berthed row upon row. Miranda dreaded to think how much the rent would be in this area. Tactfully, she moved out to the patio as Lou discussed terms with the agent.
When she went inside, he was beaming at her. ‘We can move in tomorrow.’
‘But what will a place like this cost? I can’t afford—’
‘You don’t have to afford anything. I’m paying. Don’t worry. I can easily afford it.’
Which made her worry that he might be spending everything he had on renting this huge house. If so, what if he lived longer than the doctors expected? She bit back further questions. He must have the freedom to choose what he did the rest of his life. She’d had enough people telling her what to do to ensure she wouldn’t try to force her opinions on anyone else.
‘The letting agent is bringing the paperwork round tonight.’
As they went into the flat, he said abruptly, ‘Would you mind if we put the house rental in your name? That way you won’t have to move straight out after I die.’
It made her want to weep that he was looking after her in all this, but she wasn’t going to burden him with her feelings. ‘I wouldn’t mind at all.’
‘They gave me four to six months to live, but I’ll take the house for a year.’ He grinned, an urchin’s cheeky grin, in spite of the silver hair. ‘I’m going to have a damned good try to prove them wrong.’
She signed the paperwork that evening with a steady hand. Lou had rung up a removals firm and arranged for them to do the packing and moving the following morning.
‘If you’ll take charge of overseeing them, it’ll save me wasting my energy.’
‘Don’t you want to keep an eye on your possessions?’
‘Nah. I’d trust you with my life, let alone my possessions. I’ve got some other things in storage, so I’ll arrange to have them sent round, then when the movers come, I’ll wait for them at the house. I can sit out on that patio in my wheelchair, so I’ll be perfectly comfortable. When they get this stuff to the new house, you can tell them where it’s to go. There are just a few pieces, artworks mainly, that I have views about.’