‘At Rottingdean, I suppose.’
‘Until the creditors throw you out, I suppose?’
‘Well, yes...I suppose so.’ Lizzie hadn’t thought that far ahead.
‘Well, don’t think you’re coming here to mess up my life. That would be so like you. You always have to spoil everything for me—’
‘I’m sorry...’ Lizzie was bewildered.
‘Do you know how old Paulo is?’
Her mother’s latest boyfriend, Lizzie guessed.
‘Come on, you must know,’ Serena insisted impatiently. ‘I’ve had a lot of coverage in the press. I can’t have a daughter as old as you suddenly appearing on the scene. Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Elizabeth?’
Basically, push off, Lizzie thought. ‘I’m sorry to have troubled you,’ she said.
‘I’m sure the old bat’s lawyers will let me know if she’s left me anything.’ And with that, Serena rang off.
Lizzie stared at the phone in her hand, and then, firming her resolve, she placed a second call.
‘Lizzie...’ Her father’s voice was full of sympathy and concern. ‘We both knew this was coming, didn’t we?’
But that didn’t make it any easier, Lizzie thought, though she was glad that her father seemed to be holding together so well.
‘Just tell me what you need me to do,’ he said, sounding better than she had heard him for a long time.
‘Help me to arrange the funeral?’ she suggested tentatively.
Her father laughed. ‘Why, you’ll be much better at that than me, Lizzie. I’ll be there to honour the old bird, of course. And then there’s the reading of the will. I’ll definitely attend that.’
Lizzie realised she hadn’t even thought about the will.
‘Be sure to let me know when the lawyers are ready to divvy up the spoils,’ her father said, sounding much brighter. ‘That’s if they get in touch with you before me, of course.’
‘Why would they do that?’
‘Your grandmother was a very awkward and unpredictable woman, so who knows what she intended? Just do as I say, will you, Lizzie?’
‘Of course.’ Lizzie’s blood ran cold. Her father was hoping to inherit whatever might be left after the creditors had picked over the estate, and if he did that his old drinking cronies would be back faster than Lizzie could raise a loan to save what was left. On the way home, she had spent most of the long flight wondering if she could interest the Scottish Legacy Preservation Society in buying and restoring the estate, but now it seemed she was working on a rapidly diminishing timescale.
‘And, one more thing, Lizzie,’ her father said. ‘Don’t let that fellow Chico anywhere near the place. He always was a bad lot, and I wouldn’t put anything past him. Once he hears your grandmother’s dead, he’ll be after you. That man has no scruples.’
Chico had no scruples? Yet here was her father, talking about spoils when his mother had only just passed away, and her mother was more interested in her latest boyfriend than the estate she had bled dry. Another call coming through on her phone distracted Lizzie for a moment. Her heart lurched to see it was Chico calling.