by Anna Jacobs
‘I shall drive like a careful snail.’
‘Look, you’re welcome to say no, but you could stay in that caravan for tonight, if you like.’ She pointed to a small, rather battered-looking caravan next to the sales office. ‘There’d be no charge. It’s very basic, but it’s clean and has an attached bathroom. I stayed there myself for a while when I first came to work here.’
Lara didn’t have to think twice. ‘That’d be lovely and I accept happily. I’ll still have to drive out to buy some food so perhaps you can tell me the closest place to do that?’
‘You could get a full meal or bar snack tonight at the hotel, or buy something to take away from them. You can also get breakfast there tomorrow, however full the hotel is.’
Lara had to struggle not to weep in sheer relief. ‘That’s wonderful! I’m so grateful for your help, Molly.’
‘Better come and look inside the caravan first. You may hate the feel of it. It’s very small.’
‘I doubt I’ll pay much attention to my surroundings. I’ll be asleep within minutes, I’m sure, because I never sleep much on planes.’
‘Let me get the key, then.’ She hurried back to the estate office.
Lara walked across to the caravan to wait.
Molly joined her and opened the door. ‘Voilà!’
Lara peered inside. ‘It’ll be fine.’
‘You don’t want to check out the amenities?’
‘Not as long as you guarantee there is a bathroom, Molly.’
‘You poor thing. You really are beyond exhaustion.’
‘Yes. Not to mention jetlagged. You’re being very kind.’
‘I arrived here on my own a few months ago and people were kind to me. I’m just passing it on. You can do the same one day, pass it forward.’
Lara had heard other people say that sort of thing and thought it, well, a bit New Age, even soppy, but something about Molly said she was being sincere and really meant it. That was a charming attitude to the world.
With her companion’s help, Lara took everything she’d brought with her out of the car and into the caravan, then listened to instructions on how the various mechanisms worked. All she really wanted was to be alone so that she could fall into bed and sleep for a million years.
But Molly was frowning at her. ‘Don’t go to sleep quite yet. I’ll bring you some tea-making stuff and a packet of biscuits. You really should have something to eat and drink before you sleep. We keep a supply of that sort of thing in the sales office, so it won’t take me a minute.’
It would have been rude to reject this further kindness and now Lara came to think of it, she was rather hungry. She opened her case and got out her nightdress and dressing gown, then her toiletries. The bathroom was tiny but hey, it had everything she needed.
She considered making one last attempt to contact John, but Molly returned just then and the sight of food made Lara set her phone aside.
After consuming a fruit juice and two biscuits, Lara visited the bathroom, kicked off her shoes and wriggled out of her clothes as fast as she could. She couldn’t be bothered to set up the double bed, so slipped into the lower of the two bunk beds.
Groaning in delight, she let the world fade away.
When Lara woke, it was daylight and for a few moments she couldn’t figure out where she was. Then she remembered and eased herself out of the bunk to visit the amenities, which were in a sort of annexe to which the caravan was connected by a narrow tunnel. She hadn’t noticed such details last night.
Staring at her face and tousled hair in the mirror, she grimaced. She still looked deep-down weary.
‘Jetlag rules,’ she said aloud and took a wonderfully hot shower.
Holding a cup of coffee in her hand, she sat on the steps of the caravan, turning up her face to let the morning light bathe her skin. That always helped banish jetlag, people said, though she wasn’t the sort to waste time sunbathing otherwise.
She wondered briefly what had happened to the car that was supposed to pick her up, then shrugged. Water under the bridge. No doubt there would be someone in John Crichton’s office today and they’d explain what had happened.
It was still only just after six o’clock and she wondered whether the hotel coffee shop would be open yet. She was absolutely ravenous and no wonder. She’d hardly eaten a thing for the past twenty hours.
On that thought she drained her coffee and went inside, grabbing her shoulder bag and locking up the caravan before following the path across to the hotel.
To her relief, the coffee shop was open and, better still, she was able to go through into the hotel dining room and order a full English breakfast, even this early.
When she came out, full of good food, she paused to watch a group of women making their way past the hotel to the golf course. She’d never been able to understand why people chased little white balls so avidly, but there you were; it took all sorts.
She glanced at her watch again. Still too early to phone John. Too early to do anything really. As she’d found out after her first stint of working in Australia, English people were much later starters in the mornings and it took time to adjust. Down under, her local supermarket had opened at seven and done good business at that time too.
No use trying to do anything till she could sort out her house.
She’d take a brisk walk round the lake, then.
The sales office had a sign in the window saying it opened at ten o’clock. At nine o’clock Lara was on the point of phoning her accountant’s office when she saw Molly’s car draw up. She put the phone away and went across to say good morning.
Molly waited for her. ‘Did you sleep well, Lara?’
‘Brilliantly. I was too tired to do otherwise. I’d better return the caravan key.’
‘What about your luggage? You won’t be able to get into your hotel room until two o’clock. You won’t want to cart it around with you all day. Why don’t you keep the key and the caravan till then?’
‘Thanks. But if we can do the inspection of my house, I can leave everything there.’
‘All right. I’ll just get the checklist.’
This time Lara felt as if her brain had come alive as she walked round. She checked every single cupboard door and drawer, every tap, everything she could think about which might not function properly, even though Darcie and Carter had come and done the same thing. It was all in working order, thank goodness.
Molly smiled tolerantly. ‘I don’t blame you for checking but my husband is very particular that his houses are built properly and finished in every detail. Shall we go back to the office and sign off, then the house will really belong to you? There will be a chance to do some snagging later on, of course, if you find anything not working properly.’
‘Yes, good.’ Lara beamed round, reluctant to leave. She absolutely loved the feel of her new home.
By the time they’d finished the paperwork of the handover, it was ten-thirty in the morning. Lara transferred her suitcases into her new home and took out her phone, sitting down on the stairs for lack of any furniture.
When she clicked on John’s name, the number appeared on her phone screen but it didn’t ring. There was just a message saying that this number was no longer in service. That message hadn’t been there yesterday, so she’d just thought the answerphone had been switched off.
She tried to email him but the message bounced.
One possible explanation crept into her mind and she tried hard to push it away. No, it couldn’t be! Surely not? She tried his website, with the same result. The web page had vanished.
Then she sat and stared at her phone, her stomach churning as she faced the worst-case scenario.
Could John have run off with his clients’ money?
Surely not? He had come highly recommended, had been helping her with her investment portfolio for years, building its value up steadily, had always seemed such a kind, charming man.
But why else would his office and email have stopped
working, when last week everything had been normal? There had definitely been no notification of any changes about to be made.
It suddenly occurred to her to ring the concierge’s office in the same building. They’d got her a taxi two years ago and given her a card in case she needed their help in future. She’d entered their number into her phone automatically. Frantically she searched through the list, trying to remember what name she’d used for it, sighing with relief when she found it under ‘John’s concierge’.
The man who answered the phone was very polite. ‘I’m afraid Mr Crichton closed down his office the day before yesterday, or rather his secretary did. He left last week. I don’t know where she is now. She said she had another job to go to.’
Oh no!
‘Do you have any forwarding address or number?’
‘No, sorry. I’m afraid not. Mr Crichton said he was retiring and everyone who needed to know about it had already been sent the necessary information.’
‘He didn’t tell me he was retiring and I’m one of his clients.’ She closed her eyes, couldn’t believe what the concierge had just said.
‘Oh dear. You’re the third client to say that.’
Her heart sank. She didn’t know what to say.
‘We could take your number and if he gets in touch, we’ll tell him you called.’
‘Yes. Thanks.’ She reeled it off.
‘Is there anything else I can do for you, madam?’
She tried to pull herself together. ‘No. No, thank you.’
She sat there, phone in hand, seeking frantically for another explanation, but could only return to her earlier conclusion, the only one that made sense now.
John Crichton must have run off with his clients’ money.
What other explanation could there be for his sudden disappearance? Businesses didn’t simply close their doors when they had clients still listed with them.
She couldn’t move, couldn’t think what to do.
Chapter Four
Nonie Jayne stormed out of the building where the arbitration conference had been held and went round the corner towards the car park. She was so angry she didn’t look where she was going and bumped into someone just inside its entrance. When the man kept hold of her arm, she opened her mouth to scream for help.
He let go quickly. ‘I’m not a mugger.’
She took a step backwards, still sizzling with fury, more angry than she could ever remember since she’d been a helpless child.
‘Would you like a drink? You look so upset I don’t like to leave you. You might walk under a bus next.’
So she looked at him more carefully. Not a wealthy man but strong-looking, and the admiration in his eyes as he stared at her was comforting.
‘There’s a nice bar just round the corner.’
‘Very well.’ She didn’t drink but he was right: she was too angry to drive safely, especially when she had to do it on the wrong side of the road. Why had the Brits chosen that side? Because they were stupid fuddy-duddies, that’s why.
He bought her a drink, seeming surprised when she chose only fizzy water. How did he think she kept her figure if she dived into alcoholic drinks like his huge glass of beer?
But he was a good listener and she found herself telling him about her English husband, who had treated her so meanly.
‘I could help you.’
‘Come again?’
‘I might be able to help you get those ornaments back that he gave you.’
‘How?’
He paused, then added softly, ‘I may be able to help you retrieve them … unofficially.’
She frowned at him. What did he mean by ‘unofficially’? Was he talking about stealing things?
She didn’t do crimes, but really, Ross deserved to pay properly for how he’d treated her.
‘Look, let’s carry on talking somewhere else. Where you’re parked is out of sight of CCTV cameras but this place has got two of them. It might be better to part company and meet again in the car park.’
‘Oh? Why?’
‘So that no one can tie us together if you take me up on what I’m going to suggest.’
The way he was looking at her said he found her attractive. She relaxed a little. Men who eyed you like that weren’t as likely to attack you, she had always found.
The outer door opened and a woman loaded with shopping came in. The man had bent to pretend to tie his shoelace as soon as the door began to open. Nonie watched as the woman passed them without a second glance, her attention on her shopping.
‘All right. I’ll meet you there.’
‘Better still, there’s a children’s playground at the back of the car park. Go straight past your car, then past the swings and sit on the bench near the rose garden. You can’t miss it.’
She eyed him assessingly, then nodded. She’d be safe enough in public areas and he had definitely caught her interest. After all, Ross hadn’t prosecuted her last time. He was too soft for his own good, that one. People like him deserved to be taken advantage of. She’d given up two of her best years, and for what? For a measly sum of money. ‘All right. But I hope this is worth it.’
‘I’m hoping the same thing.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Gil. And yours?’
‘Nonie Jayne.’
She wondered if that was really his name, but who cared? At least this encounter promised to be interesting. She’d been so bored lately. And he was an attractive guy, in a rough sort of way. She’d had enough of solemn English men with pale faces, who were as boring as they looked.
She might have a little holiday, take a little pleasure for herself before she found another target.
Gil studied the surroundings as he walked through the park, not seeing any signs that anyone was following him. He’d done nothing but try to pick up the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, a woman who was too angry to think straight. She looked expensively dressed. Maybe there might be something in this for him. His finances were certainly at a low ebb.
He stopped by the wooden bench and sat down beside her, but not too close. He didn’t want to frighten her off, but he wanted to know more about her. It didn’t take him long to get her talking.
‘I’m not staying here long,’ she announced, shivering. ‘So you’d better be quick about telling me what you think you can do to help me.’
‘From what you tell me, you’d still like to get your things back, but perhaps not quite as openly. I could definitely help you there.’
Nonie Jayne sat quietly as this sank in. More than getting the silver, she’d like to get back at Ross. ‘Why would you want to help me?’
‘For the money. You’d be generous, not keep all that I retrieved for yourself, I’m sure.’
Gil covered her hand with his and a shiver of excitement ran through her, the sort of excitement that she hadn’t felt for a man in a good while. This guy was dangerous and exciting. Ross had been utterly predictable. And boring.
‘I’ll have to … um, think about it.’
‘Why don’t you have dinner with me tonight while you’re thinking? I can answer any questions then.’
She’d seen a pirate film once with a man like this as the hero. Should she accept his invitation? Dare she?
Then the thought of Ross and his stingy ways swept through her like a firestorm. The thought of her own stupidity, too. She was angry with the whole world today. ‘All right. I’ll have dinner with you. It’s boring eating alone. The rest I’ll have to think about rather carefully.’
‘But you’re not saying no.’
‘I’m not saying anything yet. I’m staying at Cashton Towers.’
‘I’ve got a room nearby.’
It didn’t surprise her that he wasn’t staying in the hotel itself. He didn’t look as if he could afford it. ‘Let’s get one thing straight. Even if I see you tonight, I don’t leap into bed with strangers.’
‘Nor do I. I value my health too much.’ He stood up. ‘I’l
l find somewhere nice to eat and leave a message for you at the desk.’
‘All right.’
‘We’d better not walk back to the car park together.’
He was being very careful. She liked that. You could get away with quite a lot if you were careful how you went about it.
She watched him go. She’d never met a man quite like him, kept thinking about him as she walked slowly back to the big car park.
Most of all, though, she kept thinking how good it would feel to upset Ross, who cared more about his stupid old ornaments than about the modern world. It might be worth finding out more about Gil.
She probably wouldn’t go any further with his suggestion. She wasn’t a thief, after all. Just … opportunistic about men and their money. And money was far more important than men.
When Ross got home, he thanked the security guard for his help in keeping an eye on the house, then sat for a few minutes in the kitchen with his cousin, sipping a cup of coffee.
Fiona looked at him shrewdly, as if she could read what had happened by the expression on his face. ‘No need to ask how it went. That woman is poisonous. I could never understand what you saw in her.’
‘Nor can I – now.’ He went through the details of what had happened at the hearing.
‘Will she abide by the arbitrator’s decision?’
‘Who knows?’
Fiona hesitated. ‘Has she taken you for a lot of money, Ross?’
He told her the amount.
‘Oh no! That’s ridiculous. Why are you paying it?’
‘Act like a fool and you pay the price. I wanted to get rid of her quickly, but this is more than I’d expected the arbitrator to suggest, I will admit.’
‘If you need a loan, I can help.’
‘Thanks, but no. I have the house and contents from my aunt.’
‘We should all have an aunt who leaves us money!’ She shrugged. ‘Well, until you get probate and sell that house, my offer is there. Perhaps you can tend to your health now, for a while.’
