In the Brazilian's Debt(54)
‘Do you know how far that is?’
‘Well, no. I’m not quite sure, but—’
‘You’ll take my jet,’ he said flatly. ‘My pilot will fly you directly to Scotland.’
For a moment Lizzie was too stunned to speak. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Your grandmother did me a favour once, and I have never forgotten it. You will travel in my jet. How soon can you be ready to leave?’
Chico was making her an incredible offer, Lizzie reflected, and if he hadn’t been quite so eager to see her leave, she might have been more gracious with her thanks. ‘I can be packed in half an hour,’ she said briskly, matching his mood. She brushed off the hurt. She was worried and strained, and overreacting again because of his manner, but she had to be strong now.
‘Be ready to leave when I call you,’ he said.
‘Tonight?’
‘Tonight,’ Chico confirmed.
Her mouth dried. How quickly things ended. This had echoes of the past. It was just as well she was leaving before she came to care for Chico any more than she already did.
She had to make some calls before she left, Lizzie remembered, hoping they would distract her. She had to tell her father and her mother too that her grandmother was failing, and the house and estate had been repossessed.
* * *
The dormitory was deserted. Pacing up and down, she rang the nursing home where her father lived first. It would be late, but there was twenty-four hour cover, so she could leave a message to explain the situation.
‘Could you tell him that his mother is seriously ill, and there are problems with the house?’
‘Certainly. Your father’s well enough to receive the news in the morning,’ the helpful nurse confirmed, which was code for sober, Lizzie realised.
As she ended the call, Lizzie’s heart was racing with excitement as she contemplated a possible recovery for her father. Maybe her family would reunite around her grandmother, which she knew was her grandmother’s dearest wish. Bolstered by this thought, she called her mother in the South of France. She had more luck reaching Serena, who was always up at all hours, though their conversation was shockingly short.
‘I thought you should know. Grannie’s ill, and it’s serious,’ she began carefully.
‘And?’ her mother queried coolly. ‘What’s that to me?’
And, she was wasting precious time, Lizzie concluded, trying to disregard her mother’s callous attitude. That was life, she supposed, glancing around her tidy space in the dormitory, where she had cleared everything away. One moment she was imagining everything would be all right—her parents would reunite around her grandmother, she would be in Chico’s arms, and everything was wonderful, and the next the family plans had fallen flat, and Chico had said goodbye to her without a backward glance.
* * *
He heard the news before Lizzie. He was in the corral breaking in a new colt when his phone rang. It was Maria calling. Annie, the housekeeper at Rottingdean, had rung her. He listened carefully and then handed care of the pony over to one of the gauchos. He did a quick calculation. Lizzie would still be in the air on her way to Scotland. The timing of her grandmother’s death couldn’t have been worse for her. Lizzie would arrive too late. Worse, the jackals would gather when she was at her lowest point. Someone should be there for her—