Good at Games (12 page)

The cheek of it
, Suzy thought indignantly.
You're the one who screwed Harry up in the first place, and now I'm the one being made to suffer for it.
Men, honestly. They were enough to make you want to spit.

Except she mustn't spit at Leo. Mustn't lose her temper either.
I have to be lovely and charming and nice
, thought Suzy, fishing a slice of lime out of her glass and biting into it so hard all her salivary glands went
eek
and shriveled up in shock.

Oh no, she had to be nice to Leo. Because he was a potential client, and she very much wanted to sell him a house…any house, but especially her mother's.

And you didn't persuade people to buy a property worth hundreds of thousands of pounds by antagonizing them.

Nor, in this case, by flirting with them.

Even by accident.

“Anyway.” Brightly, Suzy changed the subject. “I gather congratulations are in order. You're soon to become a father!”

This had the desired effect. Leo's eyebrows shot up, and he almost choked on his drink.

“
What?
”

Flicking her slice of lime over the balcony into the garden below, Suzy waited politely for him to finish spluttering.

“Gabriella, isn't that her name? You didn't tell me you were getting married! According to Lucille, your future wife wants
loads
of children.”

The doorbell rang before Leo could reply. Downstairs, Suzy found Harry on the doorstep in uniform. His patrol car was parked by the front gate.

“Oh God, you haven't come to arrest me again, have you, Officer?” She said it loud enough to be heard by the two elderly spinster types tottering past, their expressions rigid with disapproval.

“Only if you've been very, very naughty,” Harry informed her, equally loud and with a broad grin on his face. Oh dear, it was at moments like this that she remembered why she'd been attracted to him in the first place. There were no two ways about it: he was funny, and he was definitely gorgeous.
Why
, Suzy thought frustratedly,
why can't that be enough?

“Leo's here.”

“I know. He called me, remember? Thought I'd just drop by to see how everyone is.”

Just drop by to make sure I'm not having torrid sex on the kitchen table with your brother
, thought Suzy. She watched another car pull up, farther along the road.

Amazed, she said, “Blimey, it's Julia.”

“I called into the office,” Julia announced, coming straight to the point as usual. “Rory told me about that girl moving in with you. For heaven's sake, are you out of your tiny
mind
?”

Following her elder sister up the staircase, Suzy said, “That girl? You mean Lucille? She's my sister, Julia. Our sister. Why shouldn't she stay with me?”

“You know nothing about her, that's why. She could be all kinds of trouble! And what's that police car doing right outside the house? What are the neighbors going to think?”

Harry had gone on ahead while Suzy waited on the doorstep for Julia. Now, watching Julia's stilettos go clickety-clack up the stairs—heavens, her legs were thin—Suzy said, “Jaz and Celeste are away on vacation. And the Fraser-Harts are at work. Lucille isn't going to smash up the apartment and make off with my TV, if that's what you're worried about.”

“You hope,” Julia replied, her tone grim. She entered the sitting room and stared without enthusiasm at its occupants.

“You remember Harry,” said Suzy. “Lucille's friend. You met him at—”

“I know where I met him,” Julia snapped.

“And this is Leo, his brother. Leo, this is my sister, Julia. Oh, and this is Baxter, Leo's dog. He's been staying with us for a few—no, Baxter, get
down
. Don't…”

“Aaargh!” screamed Julia, flattening herself against the wall. Entranced by this new game, Baxter leaped up and rested his front paws on her shoulders. All they needed now was some music, and they could dance.

“Get him off my shirt!” Julia squealed. “It cost ninety five pounds—oh my God, if he licks my face I shall be
sick
.”

Clearly working hard to keep a straight face, Leo came to the rescue. When order had at last been restored, Suzy said apologetically, “Julia isn't crazy about dogs.”

“I'm not crazy about a lot of things.” Never afraid to speak her mind, Julia straightened her shirt and gazed pointedly at Harry and Leo. She turned to Suzy. “Can't you see what's happening here? First the girl, then her friend turns up”—Julia gestured dismissively at Harry—“then we get the friend's brother, not to mention the friend's brother's
dog
… It's just absurd! Before you know it you'll have poor relations stacked up like refugees in every room.”

At this, Leo raised an eyebrow. Harry reached for the jug of iced water and said, “Does anyone else want another drink?”

Suzy, hearing a faint click, said firmly, “Julia, don't do this—”

“I came here to talk some sense into you.” Julia held up her arm like a traffic cop. “And you're jolly well going to hear me out! It's bad enough that this girl's crawled out of the woodwork, but you can't let her take over your life. Just get Mum's house sold, pay her off, and get rid of her.”

“Julia—”

“Or the next thing you know,” said Julia, “she'll be demanding a share of the business.”

Behind her, framed in the doorway, Lucille said, “For your information, I want nothing from the business.”

Julia swung around, unrepentant.

“And for
your
information,” she mimicked icily, “I don't believe a word you say. As far as I'm concerned, you're nothing but a leech, hell-bent on destroying us—and I'm not going to let it happen.”

“Out,” said Suzy, gesturing for Lucille to move out of the way and steering Julia forcibly toward the door. “Out, out,
out
.”

“She's the one you should be saying that to,” Julia hissed, “not me.”

“By the way,” Leo announced, gazing steadily at her, “I'm thinking about it.”

Julia's lip curled at the sight of him in his crumpled clothes, with his faintly insolent smile and sixteen hours' worth of stubble on his face. She loathed stubble, it was so working class. She loathed it almost as much as she loathed men who couldn't be bothered to iron their shirts.

“You're thinking of leaving?” she sneered. “Well, don't let me stop you.”

“Actually,” Leo said mildly, “I meant I'm thinking of buying your mother's house.”

* * *

“That took the wind out of her sails,” said Suzy, gazing out of the front window and watching Julia stomp furiously back to her car.

“She really hates me.” Lucille sighed. “Maybe I should move out.”

Suzy looked at her in surprise.

“She really hates lots of people. Don't let it worry you.”

Lucille, clearly troubled, shook her head. “You can't expect me to just ignore her.”

“Listen, you're new to this sister business.” Patiently, Suzy explained. “I've had
years
of practice. The thing about sisters is you
don't
have to be polite to them, you
can
ignore them, and you never, ever,
ever
let them upset you. If they do,” she went on, reminiscing happily, “you can always creep into their bedroom at night and cut off their bangs.”

At this, Lucille had to smile.

“You're my sister. Does that mean I'm allowed to do that to you?”

“Ah. Not unless you want to wake up the next morning with an indelible-ink mustache.”

Harry's walkie-talkie crackled into life as Leo and Baxter left.

“I have to go too,” he told Suzy with regret.

At the bottom of the staircase he kissed her.

“I love you, you know.”

Oh, help…

“No, you don't,” Suzy assured him. “You just want to sleep with me.”

“Well, that too.” Harry grinned. “I'll see you tomorrow night.”

“Eight o'clock. Don't be late.”

“Did I mention it was my birthday?”

“Only about thirty-five times.”

“Shall I tell you what I'd really like as a present?”

He looked so gorgeous in his uniform. Almost irresistible.

Almost.

“How about a calendar?” said Suzy, pulling open the front door. “Then you'll be able to work out when those six weeks are up.”

Oh dear, was it mean, saying that? By then she would be long gone. It was like a judge promising a prisoner that when his case came up next month, he wouldn't send him to the gallows, safe in the knowledge that he was actually retiring next week.

Except it wasn't like that at all, Suzy consoled herself. Of course it wasn't. Harry would get over her in no time. There were hundreds of pretty girls in Bristol who would be only too happy to have sex with him.

More
than only too happy.

After all, when you fancy a Mars bar and the shop's sold out, you don't have a nervous breakdown about it, do you?

You just help yourself to a nice Snickers or a Heath bar instead.

* * *

In the office the following morning Donna said, “You've got someone else interested in Sheldrake House.” She pointed to a slot in Suzy's diary. “I penciled him in for midday. He said he'd meet you there.”

“What's his name? Is he on our books?” Suzy peered across the desk.

“Dr. Price. And no, he isn't. But a buyer's a buyer,” said Donna, sensing her lack of enthusiasm. “And he sounds as if he knows what he wants.”

To turn it into a nursing home probably
, Suzy thought,
which isn't what
I
want at all
. The prospect of the beautiful house she had grown up in being converted into a rest home for incontinent geriatrics wasn't exactly a cheery one. It deserved better than that.

Maybe this afternoon she should give Leo another call.

Suzy heaved a gusty sigh. It was still a bit of a bugger, Leo turning out to have a fiancée.

Then again, if he weren't marrying this Gabriella—and what a show-offy name that was—the chances were that he wouldn't be interested in buying Sheldrake House.

* * *

Suzy was the first to arrive at the house, just before midday. Unlocking the heavy front door and stepping into the hall, she breathed in the comfortingly familiar smell of the home in which she had grown up.

Would it still smell like this in a year's time, when other people were living in it? Not if this Dr. Price turned the place into a rest home, that was for sure. It would just smell of air freshener and eau de wee.

The sound of tires crunching on gravel propelled Suzy over to the front door. A gleaming white Audi pulled up and a pretty girl in a white broderie anglaise sundress jumped out. Baby-blond hair, gleaming like satin in the sunlight, swung around her shoulders. She had a neat, tiny figure. White ballet-type pumps on her feet. No makeup whatsoever, and no jewelry either. She didn't need makeup, Suzy realized. She was…how old? Twenty-one, twenty-two, maybe? And stunning. Totally stunning. Sparkly eyed and friendly looking. The kind of girl you couldn't help but take to on sight.

Dr. Price's girlfriend?

His—
ahem
—personal secretary?

Or his daughter?

Granddaughter, even?

“Hello, I'm Suzy Curtis.” Descending the steps, Suzy held out her hand in greeting. “Well, we're on time! Trust the man to be late.”

The girl laughed. “Absolutely. Hi, nice to meet you. Gaby Price.”

Naturally, she had the perfect handshake. Cool, not too firm, not too limp.

“Well, how shall we do this?” said Suzy. “Make a start now? Or wait until Dr. Price gets here?”

“Oh dear, brace yourself.” The girl smiled broadly at her, revealing the kind of pearly teeth a four-year-old might possess. “I'm afraid I'm Dr. Price.”

Suzy gazed at her in disbelief. “You can't be!”

Gaby Price said teasingly, “Women can be doctors too, you know.”

“Oh please, I didn't mean that!” Embarrassing or what? “But…the receptionist who took your call this morning…she said you were a
he
.”

Heavens, was Donna on drugs or something?

“Ah. My secretary called your office and made the appointment,” said Gaby Price. “I have a male secretary.”

“But you look so young!” Suzy couldn't help it; she couldn't wait to find out which moisturizer this girl used. “I mean, how old do you have to be to be a doctor?”

“I'm fully qualified, I promise you,” said Gaby Price with a mischievous smile. “And since you ask, I'm twenty-nine.”

Up close, her complexion was flawless. This girl-woman doctor, thought Suzy, wouldn't know a pore if it came up and grabbed her by the throat. In fact, she was a walking miracle. The incredible poreless woman.

Still dazed, she said, “You look about seventeen.”

“It's not always an advantage.” Gaby's tone was rueful. “Particularly when you're trying to exert a bit of authority on belligerent patients who don't want to hear what you have to tell them.”

Suzy was fascinated. She was bursting to ask a million questions. But Dr. Price was already glancing at her watch. Clearly, her time was both valuable and limited.

Switching into efficient businesswoman mode, Suzy stepped to one side and ushered the girl-woman—
whatever
—ahead of her into the house.

“Right, let's get on with it, shall we? And before we start, I'd better explain that this house is pretty special to me. You see, it was my mother's—”

“Oh, I know all about that.” In the cool, oak-paneled hall, Gaby Price laid a reassuring hand briefly on her arm. “Leo told me the whole story.” She smiled, gazing around with unconcealed pleasure. “This is where you grew up.”