Winds of Change (11 page)

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.'

‘All right. I'll be glad to help. Um . . . what about your niece?'

‘I'll tell Hilary once the move is a fait accompli.'

Just after nine o'clock, the phone rang and Lou picked it up. He listened for a moment, then said curtly, ‘She's busy.'

There was a wasp-like sound at the other end.

‘She's still busy. Contact her lawyer. Miranda won't be available for the next few days.' He put the phone down. ‘Your brother again. Does he always rap out orders and expect people to jump to attention.'

‘I'd guessed it was him and, yes, he does. What did he want?'

‘To talk to you. He said it was urgent.'

‘Perhaps I'd better ring him back.'

‘Nonsense. You can help me get ready for bed and then either watch TV or read for a while. I've had it for the day. If you don't answer the phone, you won't have anything to worry about.'

She remembered his words as she sat watching one of her favourite TV shows, because her mobile phone rang twice. She looked at it the first time, saw Sebastian's number, so didn't answer. The second time it was Regina's number. She hesitated then answered.

‘Hi, Min— Miranda, it's me. I'm going back to England in a couple of days and we thought we'd all meet up for lunch.'

‘Is Sebastian with you?'

‘No. I'm ringing from my bedroom. Why? Do you want to speak to him?'

‘On the contrary, I want to avoid him. Don't tell him you were speaking to me. And I'd rather not have lunch with him, thank you very much.'

Regina chuckled. ‘All right. Can I come round to see you tomorrow afternoon after my final luncheon with our dear brother?'

Miranda couldn't decide what to answer, then took a risk. ‘If you can keep a secret.'

‘How intriguing! You mean, keep a secret from Sebastian, of course?'

‘Yes.'

‘I'd love to. He's been in a foul mood all evening. And Dorothy is the biggest doormat I've ever seen. She seems terrified of upsetting him. It's really weird. Have they always been like this? I'm not looking forward to spending the next two days with them, I can tell you. So . . . what's the big secret?'

‘Come to this address at four o'clock tomorrow and I'll tell you.' She spelled out the new address. ‘And if you want to stay for a meal and a drink, that'll be fine. But don't, under any circumstances, give the address to Sebastian. It's Lou's new house, you see, and I'm staying with him there, not at that nasty little flat.'

‘OK. Just let me find a pen. Right . . . got it.'

When she put the phone down, Regina glanced towards the door and saw a shadow darken the thin strip of light from the landing. Intrigued, she went to open the door just a crack and saw her brother going quietly down the stairs.

She shook her head. He'd always been sneaky and suspicious, but really, he was being ridiculous now. She hoped Minnie managed to stay out of his clutches, but she was doubtful. He usually got what he wanted in the long run.

She went to lie on the bed, trying to read her novel, but tonight even her favourite author failed to hold her attention because she was worrying about her daughter, who was not answering the phone.

What was Nikki doing? Had she come to her senses yet? Regina was hoping desperately that Nikki wouldn't opt to have that baby and ruin her whole life.

In England, Tim had found them a flat, or more accurately, a bedsitter. He and Nikki went to look at it.

‘How can we fit into this?' she asked, hating the dingy place and the bathroom on the landing, shared with two other tenants.

‘It's all we can afford. We'll get somewhere else before the baby comes, somewhere better. I'll have left school and be working by then.'

She went to bounce on the old-fashioned double bed, pulling a face as it sagged and creaked.

He came to sit beside her, taking her hand. ‘We'll make it work, Nikki. We have to. And you won't be looking after the baby on your own. I intend to be a modern, hands-on father.'

‘I think you want this baby more than I do.' She'd meant it to tease him, but it came out too sharply for that.

‘Does that upset you?'

‘I don't know. I don't know anything lately.'

Miranda enjoyed overseeing the removal. She knew she was good at organizing things – well, she'd had to be, living with a perfectionist like her father. The packers came at six o'clock in the morning, by which time she and Lou were both up and fed. He seemed to sleep very little at night and was always up earlier than her, though he did doze from time to time during the day.

She sent him off to the new house with a packed lunch and his laptop. At least with a wheelchair she didn't need to worry about him finding a seat. When she'd waved him goodbye, she turned her attention to the packing. Others might be doing the physical work, but she still wanted to keep an eye on everything.

It surprised her how quickly everything was put into boxes – but then, Lou didn't have many smaller personal possessions, not even a lot of clothes. Strange, that. Had his niece got rid of everything else he owned? Perhaps most of his stuff was in storage.

By nine o'clock they were ready to leave, so she called the house cleaning service before taking a last walk round the flat with the man in charge of the removal, checking that cupboards were empty and every single possession removed.

If sounds had seemed to echo from other flats before, they were doubly noticeable now that the place was empty.

Fancy expecting Lou to live here! He wasn't a poor man and he'd need more space not less as he got increasingly confined to the home. And yet, even this was nicer than the place her brother had bought for her. She got angry every time she thought of that.

She hoped Lou was taking it easy this morning. She didn't like to see him fighting exhaustion. He got so upset when his energy wouldn't enable him to do what he wanted, though he tried to hide that from her and never spoke sharply or took his annoyance out on her, like her father and Sebastian.

Far from taking it easy, Lou was directing another set of removalists, who were bringing some large pieces of furniture, books, artwork, all the personal possessions and treasures that his niece had put into temporary storage when she moved him into that stark flat which he hoped never to see again. Hilary had urged him to get rid of these things, but hadn't dared sell them herself, because some of them were quite valuable.

If he hadn't been between houses when he fell ill, he'd have made sure he had a proper home to come out of hospital to. He'd taken over management of the storage from Hilary as soon as he was himself again, just as he'd taken back every facet of his life that he could control.

He rolled his wheelchair into the main living room and took great pleasure in directing the men where to put the sofas, tables and paintings he'd chosen so carefully in happier times. At one point he realized he hadn't done anything about Miranda's financial situation. Frowning, he found a piece of paper and scrawled an impromptu codicil to his will, bequeathing the contents of this part of the house to Miranda. He called in the two removalists and had them witness it, then called a courier service and sent the paper off to Sally Patel. He'd do a proper will later.

Miranda would have a few surprises when he was gone, and she deserved them too. Already she'd made him feel happier, not just given him a purpose in life but a friend to share his final days.