Page 17 of Oz
“Certainly not,” he says primly. “Of course there are walls.” He shoots me a look. “Just no roof.”
I laugh, but when we get to the stable block via a room that will be a gift shop, although no one seems to have the faintest idea what gifts they’ll be fucking selling, I stare at the building. “Fucking hell,” I say softly.
He snorts. “You can say that again.”
“Why are you doing this?” I ask suddenly, turning to him. “You must know that this is looking pretty impossible to get done in six months. And even if I do get it done you’ll have people trampling all over your beautiful house, disturbing the peace, dropping litter, and being rude and nosy.”
He stares at me and then sighs heavily. “Come and sit down,” he says softly and steers me to a bench by a high stone wall. It sits in a patch of warm sunlight. The only sign of life nearby is a fat tabby cat crouched peering intently at a bush. He settles next to me and for a brief thrilling moment I feel the warmth of his thigh. He clicks his tongue at the cat who immediately stops hunting and sashays up, leaping onto his lap and circling before settling down. Silas smiles affectionately and strokes the cat’s back, and soon the sound of purring fills the still air.
I shoot him a look. “You like animals, don’t you?”
He smiles. “I should hope so. It’s pretty much a requirement for a vet.”
“What?” I exclaim and the cat startles before relaxing when Silas strokes it again. “You’re a vet? Why?”
“Because I like looking after animals,” he says drolly.
I shake my head. “That’s why you’re not around a lot?”
He smiles. “My practice is very busy. I have a partner, and it’s local, but it’s still a lot of work.”
“So, why take on more with the house?” I ask the million-dollar question.
There’s a silence that lasts long enough for me to wonder whether I’ve overstepped my mark, but then he speaks slowly. “My father was not a nice man. He also had a lot of very expensive habits.”
“Golf and hunting?”
He shakes his head. “Marriage.” I stare at him and incredibly he laughs. “He liked the ladies, but after a few months they never really liked him back. So, what he loved to do best was to find someone really unsuitable, marry them immediately and then a few months later divorce them and give them a lovely present of money, also called maintenance.”
I say nothing, staring at him intently, and he smiles sadly. “He almost bankrupted the estate, Oz. There’s hardly any money left after the divorces, the death duties, and a multitude of his bad business decisions. And it costs a lot to run this place. At the very least it’s two hundred thousand a year just for the upkeep of the building and the gardens. There’s a very real chance that I could lose the house if I don’t do something quickly.” He pauses. “And I love this house,” he says quietly.
“Ashworth House,” I muse.
He chuckles. “It’s not really called that. Its original name wasChi an Mor.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means House by the Sea. It’s Cornish.”
“That’s beautiful.” I laugh. “It’s just a bit understated for such a huge house.” We smile at each other. “I prefer it though,” I say slowly, and he nods.
“Me too. It’s how I think of it.”
I shift on the seat. “Does your brother know about the money?”
He shakes his head. “No. He suffered enough with our father. I’m not adding to it. This is my problem.”
“Why are you telling me, then?”
He shoots me a look. “Because you need to know.” He pauses. “There’s so much work that needs to be done. And I think I can trust you.”
“You don’t know that,” I immediately protest, but then shake my head. “But yes, of course you can trust me.” I look at his kind face and suddenly I can see the tired lines around his eyes and the trace of worry on that open countenance that I’d missed while concentrating on his good looks.
I don’t know why I like him. I try not to like too many people because it usually brings an obligation to please them, but him I like, and I can’t explain it. It runs contrary to my organised and meticulous nature, but I decide not to think too much about it. Resolution fills me, and I turn to him. “I will do my level best to help you and get this house ready in the six months. I may make enemies. I may piss people off, but I’ll get us there.” He stares at me, something working behind his eyes. I pause. “Did David know this?”
He shoots his head up sharply at the mention of the other man’s name. “Of course,” he says. “He was–” He falters before finishing almost inaudibly. “David wasn’t just the house manager. We were in a relationship.”
“Hmm,” I say noncommittally. Then I jerk. “He knew all this and still fucked off and left you in this mess?”
