For a moment Lizzie was too stunned to speak. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Your grandmother did me a favour once, and I have never forgotten it. You will travel in my jet. How soon can you be ready to leave?’
Chico was making her an incredible offer, Lizzie reflected, and if he hadn’t been quite so eager to see her leave, she might have been more gracious with her thanks. ‘I can be packed in half an hour,’ she said briskly, matching his mood. She brushed off the hurt. She was worried and strained, and overreacting again because of his manner, but she had to be strong now.
‘Be ready to leave when I call you,’ he said.
‘Tonight?’
‘Tonight,’ Chico confirmed.
Her mouth dried. How quickly things ended. This had echoes of the past. It was just as well she was leaving before she came to care for Chico any more than she already did.
She had to make some calls before she left, Lizzie remembered, hoping they would distract her. She had to tell her father and her mother too that her grandmother was failing, and the house and estate had been repossessed.
* * *
The dormitory was deserted. Pacing up and down, she rang the nursing home where her father lived first. It would be late, but there was twenty-four hour cover, so she could leave a message to explain the situation.
‘Could you tell him that his mother is seriously ill, and there are problems with the house?’
‘Certainly. Your father’s well enough to receive the news in the morning,’ the helpful nurse confirmed, which was code for sober, Lizzie realised.
As she ended the call, Lizzie’s heart was racing with excitement as she contemplated a possible recovery for her father. Maybe her family would reunite around her grandmother, which she knew was her grandmother’s dearest wish. Bolstered by this thought, she called her mother in the South of France. She had more luck reaching Serena, who was always up at all hours, though their conversation was shockingly short.
‘I thought you should know. Grannie’s ill, and it’s serious,’ she began carefully.
‘And?’ her mother queried coolly. ‘What’s that to me?’
And, she was wasting precious time, Lizzie concluded, trying to disregard her mother’s callous attitude. That was life, she supposed, glancing around her tidy space in the dormitory, where she had cleared everything away. One moment she was imagining everything would be all right—her parents would reunite around her grandmother, she would be in Chico’s arms, and everything was wonderful, and the next the family plans had fallen flat, and Chico had said goodbye to her without a backward glance.
* * *
He heard the news before Lizzie. He was in the corral breaking in a new colt when his phone rang. It was Maria calling. Annie, the housekeeper at Rottingdean, had rung her. He listened carefully and then handed care of the pony over to one of the gauchos. He did a quick calculation. Lizzie would still be in the air on her way to Scotland. The timing of her grandmother’s death couldn’t have been worse for her. Lizzie would arrive too late. Worse, the jackals would gather when she was at her lowest point. Someone should be there for her—
He should be there for her, if only to fight them off. Lizzie’s grandmother would expect him to do something for her granddaughter, and, after what that remarkable old lady had done for him, of course he would be there. This had nothing to do with his feelings for Lizzie. This was a moral duty, pure and simple.
He showered and dressed, and then booked a private jet, which, in the absence of his own jet, was the fastest way for him to get to Scotland. He was concerned about Lizzie, and about the future of a vast estate that had been in the same family for generations. It wouldn’t be split up and sold off for a song, if he could help it.
Lizzie was right in that he shouldn’t be thinking of leaving the ranch. It was the worst possible time for him, but it couldn’t be helped. The past had a way of catching up, he had discovered, and his return to Rottingdean, a place he’d vowed never to go near again, was now inevitable. Leaving Maria in overall charge, he explained to his students that extraordinary circumstances had forced him to leave them briefly. He would be back in the new year in time for their graduation, and in the meantime his top men would take over their training classes. He had no idea what sort of a mess he was going to find in Scotland, so he had given himself plenty of time.
‘I’m appointing Danny to be team leader in charge of discipline in Lizzie’s place,’ he told them, ‘so your training will continue uninterrupted.’
Once that was done, he took the Harley to the helipad, and from there he flew to the airport where he would catch the flight to Scotland. He felt purposeful and determined, as he always did when he had everything under control.
Why then did he feel such an overwhelming sense of dread by the time he reached the airport?
* * *
Lizzie was on the train to Rottingdean from the airport when she placed the call to her grandmother. When there was no answer, she called the housekeeper’s direct line.
Still nothing. Feeling distinctly uneasy, she kept on calling until finally, to her relief, Annie answered. ‘Can you tell my grandmother I’m back, and that she has nothing to worry about?’
There was silence on the other end of the phone. Lizzie’s stomach clenched with apprehension.
‘Lizzie?’ Annie was clearly distressed. ‘You haven’t heard?’
‘Heard what?’
‘Oh, Lizzie, I’m so sorry to tell you this, but your grandmother passed away peacefully just a few hours ago.’
‘She’s dead?’ The word seemed so bald and cold. Surely she was trapped in a nightmare? But, no. Annie confirmed that Lizzie was only just too late, which made it worse somehow. ‘I’ll have to try to contact my parents,’ she said numbly, speaking on autopilot.
‘Yes, I suppose you will have to,’ Annie agreed gently, sounding none too pleased at the thought of Lizzie’s parents being involved.
It took for ever for Lizzie’s mother to answer the phone. Even so, Lizzie tried to break the news gently, believing that no one was ever ready to hear about a death in the family, however distant the people involved thought they had become.
‘You’re not thinking of coming here after the funeral, are you?’ Serena demanded.
Lizzie was so shocked it took her a moment to reply. ‘No. Why?’
‘Where will you live now?’ her mother asked suspiciously.
‘At Rottingdean, I suppose.’
‘Until the creditors throw you out, I suppose?’
‘Well, yes...I suppose so.’ Lizzie hadn’t thought that far ahead.
‘Well, don’t think you’re coming here to mess up my life. That would be so like you. You always have to spoil everything for me—’
‘I’m sorry...’ Lizzie was bewildered.
‘Do you know how old Paulo is?’
Her mother’s latest boyfriend, Lizzie guessed.
‘Come on, you must know,’ Serena insisted impatiently. ‘I’ve had a lot of coverage in the press. I can’t have a daughter as old as you suddenly appearing on the scene. Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Elizabeth?’
Basically, push off, Lizzie thought. ‘I’m sorry to have troubled you,’ she said.
‘I’m sure the old bat’s lawyers will let me know if she’s left me anything.’ And with that, Serena rang off.
Lizzie stared at the phone in her hand, and then, firming her resolve, she placed a second call.
‘Lizzie...’ Her father’s voice was full of sympathy and concern. ‘We both knew this was coming, didn’t we?’
But that didn’t make it any easier, Lizzie thought, though she was glad that her father seemed to be holding together so well.