Chapter Fifteen
Leslie, true to his word, forwarded my offer on Starlight Cottage to Albert Garroway.
At the end of the week, my boss sought me out during the lunch hour. He approached my desk just as Lisa and I were having a heated discussion about how we’d blow a lottery win if our numbers came up.
‘Sorry to interrupt, ladies,’ said Leslie. There was something about his tone that instantly had me on red alert. He looked at me. ‘I’ve heard from Mr Garroway.’
Lisa shot me a worried look.
‘Oh, yes?’ I said ultra casually. My stomach wasn’t fooled and contracted into a tight knot. I put my half-eaten sandwich to one side. ‘And?’
‘Albert was thrilled to be offered the full asking price,’ said Leslie carefully.
‘Right.’ I put my hands in my lap. Twiddled my thumbs nervously. ‘Did you also mention that I was interested in buying it fully furnished?’
Leslie nodded.
‘Albert said he was certainly open to a potential buyer purchasing the contents in their entirety – even his late wife’s paintings. He confessed he’d never really appreciated Audrey’s artwork and that, in his honest opinion, her canvasses were nothing more than a lot of blobs. Certainly, they hold no sentimental value.’
‘That’s surely good news for me,’ I said, feeling a flicker of hope.
‘Yes,’ Leslie nodded. ‘And, um, that’s the only good news.’
‘Okay,’ I said, my thumb twiddling going into overdrive. ‘So, what’s the bad news?’
Leslie’s mouth compressed.
‘Albert said he was hugely sympathetic to your situation. He also said that if he hadn’t fallen head over heels in love with a retirement flat in Dorset, he’d be happy to wait for however long it took for your divorce to finalise.’
‘So why can’t he wait?’ I quavered.
‘Because the retirement flat is a newbuild. Exchange of contracts must take place in twenty-eight days.’
‘I’ll ring my solicitor,’ I said, reaching for the phone. ‘I’ll tell her to put a rocket up Robin’s bum and-’
‘Albert’s accepted another offer,’ Leslie interrupted.
The air whooshed out of me.
‘No,’ I whispered, shaking my head.
‘I’m afraid so, Tilly. At the end of the day, the prospective purchaser was holding all the right cards.’ Leslie held up one hand to tick off on his fingers. ‘First, no requirement for a mortgage. Second, not in a chain. Third, solicitor already appointed and likely being instructed as we speak.’ He let his hands fall back to his sides. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Oh, Tilly,’ said Lisa sympathetically.
I had a sudden need to know who had succeeded where I’d so miserably failed.
‘Who is the buyer?’ I asked in a wobbly voice.
Leslie gave me look.
‘Do you really need to ask? It’s Milo Soren.’
‘Terrific,’ I said bitterly. ‘I thought he first had to get his son’s approval?’
‘It wasn’t quite like that, Tilly. Milo simply wanted to involve his lad. Apparently, he’s had a bit of a tough time lately. Anyway, moving house is a massive gamechanger in people’s lives. Perhaps Milo wanted his son’s approval because – well, for whatever reason – he needed confirmation that he was making the right decision.’
‘Well, isn’t this hunky dory,’ I said bitterly. ‘I now have a sale going through on my house, but no place to go.’
‘I told you, silly,’ Lisa piped up. ‘You can live with me until you’ve found something. There’s no rush. You can take as long as you like.’
‘Thanks, Lisa. That’s very sweet of you. I don’t wish to seem ungracious, but this wasn’t what I’d envisioned at this stage of my life. Approaching fifty. Borrowing my bestie’s sofa. Nothing to show for five decades on this planet except for a suitcase bunging up my mate’s hallway.’
‘Stop being so negative,’ said Lisa. ‘It won’t be forever.’
‘Lisa’s right,’ said Leslie. ‘And just think’ – he put a sympathetic hand on my shoulder – ‘the next time you make an offer, you’ll succeed. Vendors will be biting off your hand to have a purchaser like you.’
‘Except none of them will be selling Starlight Cottage,’ I said sadly.