by Jacobs, Anna
When she returned to town she strolled into Bill Lansome's office and let him sound her out about her intentions. After a while, she said cautiously, ‘Well, I might make an offer on Somerlee – it has some potential and I do like the view – but I definitely can't afford the asking price.’ She frowned and added for good measure, ‘And I don't know what I'm going to do with all that land.’
‘The land will take care of itself. You can always subdivide and sell it later. It's not as if it's an orchard property, after all, where you’d have to tend hundreds of trees. The Australian bush has existed for millions of years without mankind's help and it will still be there when we're all gone. Why don't you just put in an offer?’
His voice had taken on that coaxing tone salesmen always used when they felt they were about to clinch a sale. She kept her expression worried. ‘I don’t know. I really don’t.’
‘I'll make sure the owners give your offer very serious consideration.’
‘Well – all right, then.’ She named a price that made his hand hesitate over the page, but she knew a low bid would be a better starting point. ‘Subject to the usual termite checks and so on.’
‘Very well. But don't hold your breath. That's rather a low offer. Maybe there's a bit of room to manoeuvre?’
She sucked in her breath and pretended to reconsider, then shook her head. ‘I don't think so. But it is cash. I came into some money recently. And I don’t have a house to sell, so we could close the deal quickly.’
‘Ah.’
After she’d signed the offer to buy, she decided to return to Perth. She didn’t want to risk another encounter with Ben Elless.
If that was running away, she didn't care. There was no use starting a relationship with a man who lived in Queensland.
You had to be sensible about such things – unfortunately. Look what had happened last time she’d let an attractive man overwhelm her. Never again.
* * * *
Her villa in Perth seemed smaller and more claustrophobic than ever, with the noise of other tenants’ television programmes wafting in through the open windows so that she had to switch on her own TV set in sheer self defence. She got out her sketch pad, but couldn't settle to anything. Even the television programmes were absolutely puerile, she thought, flipping from one channel to another.
She could have been having dinner with Ben tonight!
No, she wasn’t that stupid.
Should she ring Rosanna and tell her about putting in an offer on Somerlee? No, not yet. She would feel she’d be tempting providence if she said anything before her offer was accepted.
At eight o'clock, the phone rang. ‘Bill Lansome here.’
Meriel stiffened and excitement pulsed through her, but she kept her voice cool. ‘Yes?’
‘About your offer – could you raise it by a couple of thousand?’
‘I told you: I'm on a limited budget.’
‘Well, the problem is they've had another offer, a thousand more than yours. Amazing, isn't it? Two offers in one day, just like that. Only the other offer isn't cash, and it depends on the sale of a couple of houses, so if you can go just a little higher, cash, you'll get the place, for sure.’
‘Hmm.’ She chewed her thumb nail, wondering if this was just a story designed to pump up the price. Then she remembered Bill's open face and blunt country ways and sighed. No, he wasn’t the sort to tell lies. She was pretty sure of that. There really must have been another offer. And she couldn't bear to lose Somerlee. She was already living there in her imagination. ‘All right. Another two thousand – but not a cent more!’
He rang back within the hour. ‘Good news. Your offer's been accepted. The fact that it was a cash offer turned the scales, as I thought it would.’
‘Good.’
‘They want to get everything settled quickly. It’s one of those acrimonious divorces. They quarrel every time they visit my office.’ He chuckled. ‘Look, how about I nip down to Perth tomorrow morning to get your signature on the amendments?’
‘Fine by me.’
When she put the phone down, Meriel sat there beside it staring blindly into space, astonished that things could be settled so easily. She remembered the fuss when her sister was buying a house in England, the worries about being gazumped, the nail biting as they waited two months for the English solicitor to settle everything. Here in Australia an offer to buy a house was binding once it was accepted and signed. And it could be settled more quickly too.
So that was it. She’d done it: given up her job, bought a house and made possible the sort of life she had dreamed of for so long, a peaceful life as an artist.
Pity Ben Elless didn’t live in Western Australia. Sometimes Australia felt like two different countries: the West and the rest.
* * * *
Bill was pleased with himself. You couldn’t beat a juicy cash sale. He’d had a local guy inspect that block a couple of months previously and Terry had talked of putting in a development, but nothing had come of it. Some places were like that, hung around for months or even years.
He’d been going to arrange for Ria and her friends to stay there, paying the owners a minimal rent and keeping the garden tidy. He’d have to keep his eyes open for somewhere else for them. Pity Ria’s husband had lost all her money. She and the kids didn’t deserve that.
He was amazed when Terry came bursting into his office a couple of days later.
‘What the hell are you doing to me, Bill? I thought we had an agreement.’
‘Come again?’
‘Selling that block from under me. You didn’t even give me a chance to better their offer.’
Bill scowled at him. ‘You never made an offer. How was I to know you were still seriously interested?’
‘I told you I’m working with some developers from Perth, looking for land round here.’
‘But you never got back to me.’
‘They’re not going to be pleased about this. They thought it was in the bag. They’ve already started developing concept plans.’
‘Too bad.’
‘Well, I don’t think they’ll take this lying down. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ He stormed out.
Bill shook his head sadly. He’d known Terry Powers for years and nothing had ever come of his money-making schemes.
This would have been just another flash in the pan, he was sure. If there were any Perth developers, which he doubted.
Chapter 11
Ben was called back to Brisbane to deal with an emergency. He was bitterly disappointed when he phoned Bill Lansome and found that someone had put in a better offer than his. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he asked.
‘I did tell you and suggest you better it if you were still interested. I sent an email to your office in Brisbane.’
‘It never arrived. Are you sure you got the address right?’
Bill repeated it correctly, adding, ‘I tagged it for confirmation and got a response that said it’d gone through and been read.’
‘I’d have raised the offer if I’d known. I really wanted that block.’
‘Probably wouldn’t have done much good, unless you raised the money considerably. This was a cash offer. Yours was subject to finance. My vendors wanted a quick sale.’
‘Who bought it?’
‘A lady friend of yours.’
‘Meriel Ingram?’ Fury coursed through Ben. She’d let him think she wasn’t interested. And now he’d lost the block that was the pivot of his plans for the future. ‘I see. Thank you for letting me know.’
He didn’t slam the phone down, but it was a few minutes before he let go of the anger for long enough to start working out what to do.
He’d never been so mistaken about a woman in all his life! But he wasn’t going to let her get away with this.
* * * *
The next day Ben finished earlier than he’d expected at the current project and went back to the office to talk to his partner.
He found Phil just about t
o leave. ‘I thought we’d arranged to discuss our partnership after work today.’
‘No can do. Important function to attend. New clients to bring to the fold.’
Ben was determined to have this out. ‘We don’t need new clients. This is my last project. I told you that.’
Phil glanced at his watch. ‘Let’s discuss it in a week or two. I’m taking Cheryl and the kids away for a few days. Don’t you ever relax?’
‘I also told you that I’d be back in Western Australia by then.’
Phil gave him one assessing look, heaved an aggrieved sigh and went back inside. He didn’t go far, but sat down on the edge of the reception desk, folding his arms with a long-suffering air. ‘Well?’
‘Before we start our discussion, what happened to the email from Bill Lansome?’
‘Who’s he?’
‘Don’t pretend. He sent an email here, using the office address.’
‘Don’t remember it. If it arrived it’ll be on the computer.’
‘I’ve checked and it isn’t there. But the sender told me it not only arrived but someone clicked on the link to say it’d been read.’
‘Well, it wasn’t me. Are you doubting my word?’
‘Yes I am. I’m very unhappy about that email going missing. It lost me something I wanted.’
Phil’s expression remained bland and bored.
‘It won’t affect my decision, though. It’s time for us to go our different ways and since you won’t go, I will.’
‘Now is not the time to bail out. The company’s doing really well, we’ve got several potential clients lined up and you’re hot stuff as a landscape designer round here. Why throw all that away?’
‘Because I’m tired of the pressure. I want a quieter life and now that I’ve come into some money, I’m going to get it.’
‘From what you’ve said, the money you inherited from your uncle is peanuts.’ Phil waved one hand dismissively. ‘Don’t you realise we’re on to a good thing here, a chance to make big money? With your skills and my contacts we’re going to cream the market. You’ll soon be able employ a team of designers and – ’
‘I like to do my own designs and I’ve never wanted to be rich, only to have enough money to buy my own piece of land.’
‘Don’t be an idiot. You’ll get as much money as you want if you stick with me for a few years. Now, I really do have to go.’ Phil stood up and moved towards the door.
Ben barred the way. ‘I heard you’d been seen at the casino again.’
‘Did you indeed?’
‘Yes. And the information came from a reliable source.’ His mother.
‘Well, I had a client who wanted to go there, so I couldn’t say no.’
‘How much did you lose?’
‘I didn’t; I won.’
There was silence, then Phil flourished a mocking bow and walked out.
After a moment’s hesitation Ben followed, in time to see Phil drive away in a brand-new BMW. Where had he got the money for that? If Phil was gambling again, it was definitely good that they were going to dissolve the partnership, because it was only a matter of time before his partner started losing heavily. He always did.
Back in the office Ben picked up the phone, managing to get an appointment with his lawyer the next day. Then he rang a friend who sold real estate and told him he needed to dispose of all the property he owned in Queensland, making another appointment for an inspection of it the following day.
If he wanted a new life, he had to make a clean break with all this and that wouldn’t upset him, except for leaving his mother. He stared round his elegant office, hating the tortured clumps of fashionable indoor plants that an office designer had brought in, the angular modern furniture and the stark blinds. Phil’s office was bigger and even more showy than his.
If Ben couldn’t get that land back that she had stolen from under his nose, he’d sell his uncle’s block and look elsewhere. Trouble was, with the extra land, that place would have been perfect for his needs. It had exactly the right configuration. No he’d have to get it back. Meriel Ingram would no doubt hold him to ransom on the price, but it’d be worth the extra money in the long run.
From his boyhood knowledge of the local bush, he had plenty of ideas for how to develop that block. And the place had sentimental value too, memories of carefree summers and an uncle who always had time for him.
In fact, he’d set his heart on settling there.
* * * *
Ben had agreed to spend Christmas Day with Sandy’s family. He found it awkward because some of them made it clear they were on Phil’s side. Even his father-in-law took him aside and had a quiet word with him about sticking with the people who had helped set him up in business in the first place.
Ben kept his voice calm. ‘I take it Phil’s told you I’m leaving once this project is finished?’
‘You can’t mean that, lad! You’re not even giving him time to find a new designer.’
‘I told him last August. He’s had plenty of time to find someone else.’
‘Men with your skills and talent aren’t easy to replace. Surely you can stay on until – ’
Suddenly Ben had had enough. ‘No, I can’t and I won’t. Did you know Phil’s gambling again?’
‘He knows better than to get into that again.’
Phil’s wife also took time to scold Ben for trying to break things up. ‘What will the children and I do if he doesn’t have an income?’ Cheryl demanded, tears in her eyes. ‘And to leave so abruptly, too. I’d thought better of you, Ben.’
He’d seen before how easily she wept, how she used her tears as a weapon to manipulate people, so he wasn’t going to be taken in by that. ‘I told him last August,” he repeated wearily. “That’s not abrupt. And you and your children aren’t my responsibility.’
Strangely enough, only Phil’s father didn’t harangue Ben, or even mention his son. Rod Hantley had grown very quiet these days and looked frail, but he sat and watched everything with his usual interest. Ben had a long chat with him about his plans. It was the only part of the evening he enjoyed.
He left early, feeling guilty even though he knew he had nothing to feel guilty about. But he wouldn’t continue working with Phil.
He spent Boxing Day in Brisbane with his mother and the new guy she was seeing. He suspected it was turning into something serious and was glad for her. She’d coped bravely with losing two husbands. But Steve seemed a really nice guy – and was younger than her, a fitness fanatic, so maybe he wouldn’t die on her. She was still an attractive woman, looking and acting younger than her age.
In the evening Ben went for a stroll with her. After a few minutes, she asked casually, ‘Who is she?’
Ben stiffened. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ve seen you in love before, remember. You’re wearing all the signs, staring into space, sighing.’
‘I’m not in love, Mum. In lust, more likely.’
‘That’s important too.’
‘Not with this woman. She’s pulled a sneaky trick on me. Anyway, I haven’t got time to fall in love. I’ve too much to sort out.’
‘Tell me to mind my own business if you’d rather not talk about it, but are you having business troubles with Phil?’
He nodded.
‘If it’s money you need, I could find a little.’
‘I’d not take it.’ He hesitated then said, ‘Phil and I have different views of where we want to go. It’s more than time to end the partnership, which I’ll do after I’ve finished this project.’
‘Thank heavens for that! I never did trust him.’
He looked quickly sideways. ‘You didn’t say anything.’
‘How could I when he was Sandy’s cousin? Anyway, I’d hoped it might have been the making of him. Everyone deserves a second chance.’
‘That’s what his family said at the time. Now, half of them are blaming me for not continuing to support him, so I suppose if he goes to the wall they’ll blam
e me for that, too.’
‘He’s a big boy, should be able to support himself by now.’ She hesitated. ‘Is your investment money all right? You shouldn’t have left everything to him to sort out after Sandy died.’
‘No, that’s OK.’
‘And you’re well over the deep grief now.’ She hugged his arm close to her side.
‘Yes . . . only I feel guilty about finding another woman attractive.’
‘You shouldn’t. Life has to go one. It’s normal to grieve and equally normal to make new relationships after a while.’
Ben’s time with his mother was the brightest spot of the whole holiday.
* * * *
For Meriel, Christmas came and went in a blur of packing, getting new business cards printed and buying art supplies. She had a meal with Rosanna and her family on Christmas Day, at which everyone drank to her happiness in her new home.
‘I'm going to miss you, Rosanna,’ she said as her friend walked her out to her car.
‘Well, you'll still be able to phone and email, and you can always invite me to visit. As long as Karl can come too. He’s asked me to marry him, but I’m not telling Mum yet. You know how she’ll fuss.’
‘Well, there's a permanent invitation for you both to visit. No warning needed. Just turn up. You know that.’
Rosanna gave her a smacking kiss on each cheek. ‘I do. And we’ll come. Take care.’
* * * *
Meriel moved to York two weeks after Christmas. The day was a scorcher, over a hundred degrees by the old Fahrenheit scale, the sort of temperature still called a 'century'.
On the appointed day she saw her possessions loaded into a small removal truck then drove to York on her own. A flat tyre slowed her down a little, but she changed that quickly and still managed to arrive at her new home half an hour before her furniture. The two men sweated the meagre collection of items inside, dumped things where she pointed and hurried off as soon as they could. Like everyone else, they seemed to think her mad for wanting to live alone on such a big block.
As the truck throbbed away into the distance, she heaved a sigh of relief and went back inside to start sorting out the chaos of cardboard boxes. She looked round and grinned. She had one double bed, a rocking chair, a cheap plastic garden table and six matching chairs, a computer desk, another old, scarred desk, an easel, a big cabinet for her art supplies and a large old sofa. Not nearly enough to furnish this house.