The sun was low in the sky when the constant chirp of her mobile phone woke her. Tamsyn groggily reached out to the bedside table for the device.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Masters? It’s Jill from the letting agency.”
“Ah, yes, about the damage—”
“I’ve talked with the property owner, Mr. Fabrini, today and he’s asked that you move out.”
Move out? While a pane of glass was being replaced?
“I beg your pardon? That seems extreme.” Tamsyn forced her sluggish brain to function. “It’s only a pane of glass that needs to be replaced. Surely I can remain while that’s done?”
“I don’t think you understand me, Ms. Masters. Mr. Fabrini has requested you vacate the property permanently.”
The words slowly sank in. “What? Vacate the property? But the lease—”
“Is a week-by-week agreement that can be terminated at any time by any party without notice. You will be refunded for any overpayment.”
“Yes, yes, I’m aware of that.” Tamsyn had thought the rental conditions to be very unusual at the time, but they’d suited her so she hadn’t questioned it. Of course, she’d assumed she’d have at least a week’s notice of the owners’ intention to return before being asked to vacate.
“Then you’ll make other arrangements?”
“Of course. I don’t suppose you have any other properties on the books at the moment that might be suitable?”
“I’m sorry, no. There’s a festival in the area and all our casual rentals are completely booked out. Have been for some time.”
“Oh, I see. Well, if you could just give me a few days until I find something—”
“Ms. Masters, I’m sorry. Obviously I didn’t make my client’s wishes clear. Mr. Fabrini wants you out of the cottage today.”
Seventeen
“Today?”
“He was most insistent.”
She just bet he was. What was it Finn had said before he left? That he’d do what he could? Well, it appeared he’d done it, all right. He’d obviously spoken with this Mr. Fabrini and her eviction was the result. Anger slowly began to replace the hollow pain that had consumed her this morning.
“Fine, I’ll be a couple of hours.”
“That will have to do, I suppose.”
Too damn right it would, Tamsyn thought, severing the connection without saying goodbye. She pushed up off the bed and methodically stripped the sheets, taking them through to the laundry and throwing them in the machine together with the towels from the bathroom. She had half a mind to leave them in there, wet, but her own standards wouldn’t let her slide that low no matter how badly she was being treated. Or by whom.
Methodically she went through the motions of setting the house back to exactly how she’d found it—pushing the vacuum cleaner through, remaking the bed, laying fresh towels in the bathroom and clearing the perishables from the fridge. By the time she’d finished, and her case was packed, she felt completely empty inside. Not surprising, she realized, as she’d eaten nothing all day. Still, the thought of food was the furthest thing from her mind. More pressing was the need to find somewhere to stay tonight. And the next. Mr. Fabrini probably wanted her to leave New Zealand, too, but that wasn’t happening. Not today. Not until she found her mother—no matter who stood in her way.