Roz tried to think. ‘There’s been so much … I had to scour the countryside for a wet-nurse for the foal, the funeral, all the injured horses . . But I’ve been in touch with the solicitor who has the will. I’ve an appointment with him and he said he’d explain it all to me.’
‘I can tell you. Creditors of a … deceased person are entitled to make claims against their estate. Now if the claims exceed the cash available then the assets of the estate, if there are any, have to be put up for sale and the proceeds divided among the creditors. Stan Hawkins would have known all this, which is why, no doubt, he was so eager to get his hands on the foal beforehand,’
‘Oh yes, I see,’ Roz said slowly. ‘So that means Nimmitabel will have to go up for auction?’
‘Yes, it does,’ he said, rather gently. ‘I imagine, from what you’ve told me, she is about, the estate’s only unencumbered asset. I don’t suppose she’s in your name, by any chance?’
Roz shook her head; ‘He was going to make me a partner in the foal, but . .’
‘Yes. Well, as to what price she would bring, that’s rather hard to say. Kosciusko progeny don’t come cheap and there’s not been one yet, to my knowledge, that could top off the breeding of this foal; But there’s also a lot hanging in the wind, as they say. The executor appointed in the will—and I presume there’s one if the will has been properly drawn up—might well decide to . . make other arrangements for the foal, because all these things take time.’
She flinched visibly and he looked at her keenly.
‘You do have yourself to provide for, Roz. Do you have a job?’
She shook her head; ‘Not really. I’ve been working part-time at a saddlery shop in Beenleigh, but it’s closing down soon; Other than that I was Grandad’s strapper. But, I…’ her voice shook, ‘I’m sure I could find something else.’
He sat back and said sceptically, ‘Perhaps. Don’t you have any other relations?’
‘No. Not close, anyway.’
‘And did you never, dream of doings anything else with your life other than helping your grandfather with his horses and working part-time in a saddlery shops?’
Roz bit her lip at the rather sardonic note in his voice. Then she said quietly but steadily, ‘Yes, I have. I’ve dreamt of travelling, learning more about so many things—art, music, cookery … I’d like to be able to understand how the economy works and how computers work, and I‘d love to really delve into old-fashioned herbal remedies. I’d like to be able to remove the threat of nuclear wars forever and have lots of children. I love horses and I always. will, but …’ She stopped and coloured, because he was looking at her with a curious intentness. ‘I mean.’ She shrugged awkwardly.
‘Don’t look embarrassed. That was rather well said and I’m sorry if I sounded patronising.’ He grimaced, then added, ‘On top of it, you’re unusually lovely, which has already caused you some problems.’
Roz flushed brightly this time. Not because his thoughtful gaze in any way resembled Stan Hawkins’, rather it was the totally dispassionate sort of appraisal with which a good judge of horseflesh might sum, up at yearling filly. But it did have something to do with that; while her looks didn’t seem to particularly appeal to boys of her own age they did to older men—not, she amended to herself, that she could possibly attract Adam Milroy, but he had obviously discerned this curious fact. Of course Mike was different, Mike knew her.
But its had puzzled and disturbed her, and she had even discussed it with her grandfather, how no one at school apart from Mike had ever taken a great interest in her, whereas she was increasingly subject to the kind of looks from older men which made her hotly uncomfortable.
‘It takes a bit of age and experience to recognise the kind of quality you have, Roz,’ he had said slowly, and chewed his lip rather worriedly. ‘Also when you’re a bit shy—well, teenage boys are often great big shy hulks themselves and don’t know how to handle it. That’s why they go for the bolder ones. But don’t you worry your head about it. You’ve got years before you need to.’
Not years, she thought ironically, now. And then the other factor to make me feel uncomfortable is that once upon a time, half a lifetime ago, or so, it seems, I met Adam Milroy and had some rather dramatic daydreams about him.
She bit her lip and realised that the same Adam Milroy was sitting across the table from her, staring at her quizzically. ‘I’ve got a boyfriend,’ she said quickly.