Over the next few days Louisa barely had time to think. Which was a blessing; whenever she had a breathing space, her thoughts turned to Paul and how much she missed him. They kept in touch by phone and hearing his voice proved a powerful incentive to work through her lengthy to-do list as quickly as possible. Charlotte recommended a top agency to handle a lease on the house, but the hard part was accepting the need to pack up her mother’s precious furniture and personal possessions, such as books, paintings and ornaments. The task seemed overwhelming and again Charlotte came to the rescue. She suggested that a friend of hers, normally hired to de-clutter a home, be asked to help. Louisa thought it a brilliant idea and, once a tenant was found, planned to use her services. In the meantime, she had to discuss the future of the travel agency with Glenn, the manager. She had just put the phone down after arranging a meeting with him for that afternoon, when it rang.
‘Louisa Canning.’
‘Morning, Louisa. It’s Detective Inspector Wallace, I’ve got some news for you.’ His voice was sombre.
Her immediate reaction was that something was wrong. That Edward had somehow escaped and was on the run. Coming after her…Taking a deep breath, she managed to say, ‘Right. Has something happened?’
‘Yes. Archie Blake died last night. Thought you might like to know.’
The relief was immense. That horrible old man was dead! Good riddance to bad rubbish, as her grandmother used to say.
‘Thanks for telling me, I appreciate that. I’ll let my father know, I’m sure he’ll be…pleased. Will Edward be allowed to attend the funeral?’
‘I should think so, if he wants to. But I got the impression there was no love lost between them after he learned the truth. Be assured, if he does attend, he’ll be hand-cuffed and guarded at all times.’ He coughed, as if acknowledging his part in allowing Louisa to risk her life by meeting Edward. ‘Oh, and speaking of Edward, we have a date for the trial: the second week of July. Just got in before the summer recess.’
‘That’s good. When will I know if I have to appear?’
‘Not until his plea is taken, I’m afraid. Although he confessed, he could retract and plead not guilty. Personally, I doubt it, but we have to assume the worst and arrange background reports as well as collate the evidence.’ She heard an exasperated sigh. ‘All a load of bureaucratic nonsense, if you ask me, but…’ Louisa imagined him shrugging.
‘Okay. I’ll pencil it in my diary and keep my fingers crossed. Thanks for phoning, Inspector.’
After phoning Malcolm with the detective’s news, she pushed the unpleasant thought of the impending trial to the back of her mind and switched on her laptop. Her father had said he had emailed details of a new rental property and she was keen to take a look. So far she had not seen anything appealing: mainly apartments in the busy town centre, but she really wanted something with outside space. The rental costs approached those of London and she despaired of finding something she liked at a reasonable price. Opening Malcolm’s link she was pleased to see the property was a 1930s semi in a small close within walking distance of the town centre. It had plenty of off-street parking and a pretty, sheltered garden. And available at the end of May – only a month away. It was perfect! She phoned the agent to arrange a viewing and was told that a let had been agreed within the past hour. Disappointed, she asked to go on the mailing list, explaining her preference for parking and outside space.
Glancing at her watch and seeing it was time to see Glenn, she left the house to walk the few hundred yards to the office. One of a little row of bijou shops and cafés, not far from Angel station, the agency’s windows bore none of the garish travel posters favoured by the giant travel companies. “Voyages” was started by her mother to cater to the wealthy: those who wanted tailor-made itineraries and absolute attention to detail. Nothing was too much trouble; the clients’ needs were paramount. At the time the business had begun, there were few offering such a service and Susan quickly cornered the market. Nowadays, there was fierce competition from bigger companies, but the regular clientele stayed loyal. Thanks to the internet, most of their clients now contacted them via email rather than in person. Susan’s death had not, according to Glenn, affected business – a reflection on the high quality of the staff and their training.
The office looked more like a small, intimate club than a travel agency. Comfortable leather chairs were set round low tables spread with the crème de la crème of travel brochures. A couple of clients were in deep conversation with assistants who, with rapt attention, wrote copious notes of their requirements. Louisa smiled at the girls before going through to Glenn’s office. It had been Susan’s and she still found it hard not to see her mother sitting behind the antique desk, smiling a greeting.
Glenn looked up from a pile of what appeared to be bank statements. He came round the desk to give her a warm hug.
‘How are you? When you told me what that monster had done to you I was ready to go out and kill him!’ he cried.
Louisa grinned. Glenn was, as ever, a tad theatrical, but he knew his job backwards and the clients adored him almost as much as they had her mother.
‘It’s fortunate he’s locked away out of reach, then. I wouldn’t want my favourite manager to end up in jail, too,’ she said, sinking into a chair.
Glenn chuckled before returning to his seat.
Then, looking more serious, he said, ‘You wanted to talk about the future of “Voyages”? I can assure you it’s still doing well…’
‘I know. I’ve seen the figures.’ She hesitated, wondering how to broach the subject. ‘The thing is, Glenn, I’m planning to leave London and move to Guernsey and…and I don’t want the responsibility of the business any more. You’re doing a brilliant job, but…well, I need a fresh start.’ She hardly dared look at him, afraid of his reaction.
But, surprisingly, he was smiling. ‘I’ve been expecting this. Particularly after you told me about your father.’ Glenn picked up a sheaf of papers and pushed them across to her. ‘I’ve been giving it a great deal of thought and would like to buy the business from you. Here’s my proposal.’
Louisa felt a weight lifting from her shoulders. It would be the perfect solution but she knew the business was worth a tidy sum and doubted if Glenn could afford it.
‘I know what you’re thinking and I have a plan. I propose to pay you a lump sum now and the rest monthly over the next three years. As long as you were happy with that, of course,’ he said, looking less confident.
‘Let me look at the figures first.’
The proposed offer was based on the valuation produced for probate and the figures looked reasonable. The initial lump sum was about half of the valuation and Louisa was happy for the rest to be paid over time. She knew she could sell to one of the bigger companies; indeed the sharks had been circling since her mother’s death, but she wanted the business to remain as it was. And Glenn was the ideal man to ensure it did.
‘Well, this looks fine. I’m happy to accept the terms. As long as you haven’t had to mortgage the wife and kids to raise the money!’ she joked.
Glenn beamed. ‘As you well know, Louisa, that’s not at all likely! Oh, come on, let’s have a hug to celebrate.’ They embraced, laughing, before Glenn disappeared into the kitchen to make a celebratory cup of tea.
‘It should be something stronger but you know the rule, no alcohol on the premises. Your mum was right, but it would have been appropriate for once.’
‘Tell you what, let’s go to the pub for a drink once you close the office. The girls can come and we’ll have a proper celebration. I haven’t been able to drink because of this,’ she said, pointing to her head, ‘but am allowed to now. And you’ve just made my day.’
‘And you mine! We’ll meet you there in,’ he glanced at his watch, ‘twenty minutes? I’ll tell the girls.’
Finishing her tea, Louisa left and took her time walking to the pub, enjoying some window-shopping on the way. The happiness she felt at Glenn taking on the business more than made up for losing the house in Guernsey. She would just have to keep looking…
A couple of days later the agent handling her house called Louisa to say she had someone wanting to view. They agreed a time for later that day and in the meantime she rushed around tidying up. As most of the rooms were not being used, it did not take too long, but it affected her emotionally. It brought home that her life was about to undergo a major change and, although it was what she wanted and longed for, it was scary. Having already effectively sold her mother’s business, she was about to rent out her beloved house to strangers. Oh, Mum, please don’t be cross! Glenn will make a great owner of the agency and I’ll be careful who I choose to live here. And I know you would have adored Paul! I really want it to work for us and so does Malcolm. Oh, I wish you were here, Mum. She had to force back the tears as she gathered up the cleaning bits and pieces and returned them to the kitchen cupboard. It was at times like this that she wished her mother had been buried, not cremated. She would have loved to take flowers to the grave and have a chat. But Margaret, ever practical and forced to organise everything, had opted for a cremation. As she had for Charles. Louisa accepted it was the more eco option, but it still did not feel right.
Dead on time, the agent rang the doorbell and Louisa made herself smile welcomingly at the couple accompanying her. Introduced as Mr and Mrs Saunders and in their late thirties, she guessed, they seemed nice enough. They needed a home for themselves and their children while the husband took up a new twelve-month contract in London. At the moment they lived in Manchester and would rent out their own house until they returned. Louisa let the agent show them around while she weeded some garden pots.
They followed her outside after touring the house and Louisa could see how impressed they were. As they should, she thought. She heard them mention her little flat as being ideal for the nanny. Twenty minutes later she showed everyone out and the agent promised to be in touch. Louisa made herself a much-needed cup of coffee and took it outside. About an hour later the agent rang to say the couple loved the house and wanted to take the lease for the twelve months.
‘That’s…that’s great. I thought they seemed keen. When do they want to move in?’
There was a cough on the end of the line.
‘Ah, well. I do hope that this will not be a problem, but they want to move in a month from now. Or they will withdraw their offer.’