her and the tears pooled and slid down her face.
Ron pushed a box of tissues towards her. His still watchfulness, gentle smile and the lack of inane platitudes felt soothing. Blowing her nose she finally managed to quash her emotions. ‘Sorry, I … it was so unexpected. I had no idea he was so ill.’
‘That’s the way he wanted it, I’m afraid.’ He gave a rueful smile. ‘And you know Miles; nearly always got his own way.’
She nodded. Which was exactly why none of his marriages worked out. Despite his incredible generosity and garrulous personality, Miles had the attention span and self-awareness of a toddler. Some might say he was totally self-centred − but they would be mean and small-minded. He simply did what he wanted, when he wanted. Eventually the wives got fed up with him disappearing on a whim to track down a car he’d got a sniff of, the impromptu parties and the bringing home of waifs and strays from all over the world.
‘However it did allow him to put his affairs in order and I’m pleased to say that he was particularly keen to ensure you were left with something of true meaning. He thought about this very carefully.’ Ron’s eyes twinkled as he pulled out an A4 folder. ‘Very carefully.’ He looked at his watch. ‘We need to get through a fair amount before Mr Matthews arrives.’
‘Mr Matthews?’
Laurie sat up straighter, a prickling sensation easing down her spine.
If Miles wasn’t already dead, Cam would have been tempted to strangle the old bugger. He shook his head and carried on pacing outside the closed door. Something was up.
Being summoned was one thing, he expected that, the bankers’ draft was ready and waiting and maybe he’d been a bit premature about taking the keys already but the money was all there, his intentions were good. But being invited to meet Laurie … that was something else? Laurie, who just happened to be female. When Miles had asked him to look out for his sister’s child, Laurie, Cam had assumed it was a boy, not a young woman. Knowing the old man’s predilection for drama, Cam should have thought twice about making any promises. Miles was a bloody liability. And Ron was no better, playing along. He was supposed to be the responsible one. Cam pictured them devising their Machiavellian plans over their chequers games and despite his concern about what they might have cooked up between them, a rueful smile lit his mouth. He would have promised Miles anything.
‘Ah Cam, you’re here.’
Ron appeared from behind the door. ‘Come along in.’
The niece was already there. She looked paler than she had at the funeral, her face set in grim lines. She shot him an unfriendly look. It made him feel a lot better. He had no idea why he was here but he didn’t want to get involved. She clearly didn’t want him to be there either.
‘I’ve asked you both here to relay the terms of Miles’ will. Perhaps you’d both like to take a seat, as the terms are …’ he paused and his eyebrows quirked with suppressed glee, ‘somewhat unorthodox.
‘However, they are legal and Miles went to considerable lengths to ensure that all the terms are enforceable.’ He pulled out a file from his briefcase and slipped on a pair of bifocals.
It took a while for Ron to cut to the nitty-gritty and while he went through legalese, Cam spent the time studying Lauren.
Her light, brownish hair had been scraped back into a severe ponytail which wouldn’t have done anyone any favours but on her emphasised her pale narrow face and high cheekbones. She had good bone structure, he’d give her that, but she’d not bothered to do much with what she’d been given.
He couldn’t tell whether it was her posture or the appalling cut of the same cheap suit as at the funeral that made her look like a navy blue sack of King Edwards. The jacket was square and the sleeves too short, so that her stick-thin wrists stuck out like a scarecrow’s.
Then he realised she’d caught him staring and was now scowling at him.
Good.
‘And now to the details …’
Both of them turned to face Ron, who took a deep breath and sat up a little straighter, as if preparing to go into battle and held the will a little higher like a protective shield.
Cam felt a warning twinge in his gut.
‘To my niece I leave the Ferrari GT250 …’ he didn’t hear the rest. ‘There’s a letter for you.’ Ron pushed a bulky white envelope towards Laurie which she took with a shaky hand.
An involuntary indignant hiss whistled out of his mouth. Fuck, shit and bollocks. No. That couldn’t be right. Cold washed through him, an icy tidal wave of horror.
He caught a glimpse of startled blue eyes as she shot a look at him.
Ron peered over his glasses, a clear rebuke in his expression.
Cam responded with a furious stare, mind racing with the ramifications, his teeth gritted as he fought against disbelief. Shit. What the hell? This wasn’t the deal. Miles had agreed the fucking price.
‘If I may continue?’
Cam nodded tightly, his hands clenched on the edge of the seat. He’d dreamed of owning that car since the first day he’d driven with Miles down to Goodwood.
‘On the proviso that she takes it across Europe to Maranello within the next three weeks. Only on successful completion of the journey to a prescribed route, will the car be hers and at that point and that point only can she sell the car.’
Fury burned in Cam’s chest.
‘What?’ Laurie shook her head. ‘I don’t understand.’
Of course she bloody didn’t. Because it didn’t make any fucking sense.
Ron smiled gently. ‘Your uncle has left you one of his classic cars.’
Cam snorted loudly. One of … only the cream of the crop.
‘But you have to take it to Italy before it’s yours.’ He looked at his watch, as if emphasizing the time constraint. ‘But … you will need to leave within the next ten days.’
‘But I … I can’t.’ She looked horrified.
Cam rolled his eyes cursing Miles. What the hell had the old bugger been thinking? This girl just didn’t have the guts and she certainly didn’t bloody deserve the car. It wasn’t as if she’d have any interest in it; she hadn’t earned it. Not like him.
She caught him and gave him a steely glance before lifting her chin and turning away. ‘What if I don’t want to do it? What am I going to do with a car like that?’
Cam shot her a look. Was she stupid? This was the classic Ferrari, Enzo’s last design. Possibly, no make that definitely, the finest Ferrari ever made. People would kill to own it.
‘Once you’ve completed the trip the car is yours to sell.’
She wrinkled her face.
‘But I don’t want to do the trip. I’ve got a job. Responsibilities. I can’t just up and go.’
‘Then it’s quite simple my dear. You forfeit the car and it goes to someone else.’
‘What, him?’ She indicated Cam with her thumb.
Suddenly relieved, he relaxed. Tension seeping out of his shoulders. Obviously that was why he was here. An easy transaction and he didn’t even have to pay for it.
Ron held the moment, like a ringmaster holding court in a circus, a small smile playing around his mouth.
‘No.’
Cam sat bolt upright.
‘Your mother.’
Lauren’s face hardened. ‘Over my dead body,’ she spat. ‘If that’s the case I’ll drive it to Timbuk-bloody-tu.’ Her eyes narrowed for a second.
‘You