Chapter 15

"I've found us a house," I announced proudly that evening.

"You haven't?" Lola said

"We can't afford one yet," was Tonia's response.

"I have and I don't think it matters," I said smugly.

"What do you mean you don't think it matters?" Tonia asked. "Of course it matters. You can't just waltz off and buy a house. We haven't enough money."

"We won't have to pay for it immediately. It isn't on the market yet and I think we can persuade the owner to wait until we have the money."

"Neat trick," Lola said suspiciously.

"If you can pull it off. Highly embarrassing if you can't," Tonia said.

"Anyway it isn't in our plan to buy a house yet," Lola said.

"We can change the plan, can't we?" I asked.

"We can, but only for a good reason."

"Isn't a house a good reason?" My good mood was rapidly evaporating.

"Perhaps, if it's the right house."

"I think it is."

"I don't understand this," Tonia said. "You said it wasn't on the market yet. So how did you find it? You can't just walk up to someone and say 'Sell me your house'. Did you get Charles to 'persuade' the owner to sell it?"

"No. It wasn't like that. I thought you'd be pleased instead of acting like I'd killed the cat."

"Perhaps you'd better tell us the full story," Lola said.

I explained how I had come across the house and Mrs Baxter's circumstances. They listened without comment and I could sense their attitude softening.

"So it was just fortuitous?" Tonia said.

"A real stroke of good luck. I only wanted to see what it was like. I never dreamed it would be for sale," I said.

"And this is on the level?" Lola said.

"As far as I know," I said.

"So what's it like, this house of yours?" Tonia asked.

"All I'm going to say is that I think it fits our requirements perfectly but I want you to see it without being influenced by my opinion."

"I take it you like it?" Lola managed a small grin.

"I do."

"And you really believe we could buy it?"

"Uh huh."

"And you believe it's the right place?" Tonia added.

"I do."

"And you think we won't have to pay for it until we can afford it?" Lola again.

"Yes."

"It all sounds a bit too good to be true. Quite by accident you stumble upon a house which is just what we're looking for and the owner just happens to be thinking of selling and..."

I held up a hand. "I know, I know. It does all seem a bit fantastic. But I swear it's all true. What day is it?"

"Thursday," Tonia said. She turned to Lola. "The sun must have fried his brains."

"Or the rain washed them away," Lola chuckled.

"I've been out, day after day, tramping field and hill, braving rain and wind and hail and snow in search of a perfect love-nest for the loves of my life and all I get for my troubles is insulted," I said theatrically.

"The sun really has fried his brains," Tonia laughed.

"I still think it was the rain," Lola added.

"I'm going to make a phone call," was all I said.

"I'm surprised to hear from you so quickly," Mrs Baxter said when I said who I was.

"To tell you the truth, so am I," I laughed. "But the more I've thought about it, the more I'd like to progress things. It really is a beautiful house."

"Yes, it is." Her voice was wistful.

"I was wondering if it would be okay to come and view the house properly on Saturday."

"Saturday? That's rather short notice. I haven't got papers or anything organised."

"Don't worry about that. I would just like to look around and talk to you a bit."

"Well... all right. I suppose Saturday is acceptable. Could you make it the afternoon?"

"That would be fine. Two thirty? Oh, and, Mrs Baxter, please don't worry. I have a feeling everything's going to work out fine."

Tonia and Lola were not entirely happy with spending their Saturday afternoon viewing a house. They were both extremely busy at work during the day and setting up our smokescreen of bank accounts and dummy companies in the evening and they looked on Saturday as their 'wind down' day. They were even less enthusiastic when I made Tonia stop the car in the road outside the property. I had insisted we dress 'casually elegant' or 'elegantly casual' and take Tonia's BMW and that I sit in the back.

"Doesn't look much, does it?" I chuckled at their dour expressions.

"Needs a bit of work, then?" Lola said with some asperity.

"That's the entrance over there. Drive slowly and stop at the bottom of the hill."

Tonia did.

"Oh, my God," Lola gasped as she caught sight of the house. "It's beautiful."

"You bastard," Tonia said. "You knew all along. You've just been stringing us along."

"Thought you might like it," I smirked. "Shall we proceed?"

"Just look at that lawn," Lola enthused. "And it's got a burn and everything. Are there any ducks?"

"Ducks?"

"A burn should have ducks. I like ducks."

"Isn't that a millpond?"

"Same thing."

We drew up at the front door. Again at my insistence, I didn't hand the ladies out of the car. We stepped out and they looked around in wonder.

"It looks even better close up," Tonia said.

Our arrival had been noticed for the front door opened and Mrs Baxter stepped out. I hadn't paid that much attention to her the other day, other than to note she was an attractive woman but, as she stepped out into the sunlight, I realised she was a truly beautiful woman; tall, slender, elegant, refined. Not only that but she, somehow, seemed totally at home in this environment.

"Told you," came Charles's voice in my head. "You can fight it if you like but she's yours."

This occasional habit of his of popping up in my mind when he had assured he couldn't read minds was disconcerting. I had to shelve the thought as I had more pressing matters.

"Mrs Baxter, it's a pleasure to see you again. I hope you don't mind but I brought my partners."

"Partners?" She looked flustered and slightly disappointed.

I introduced Tonia and Lola. "Antonia's the financial whiz and Louise is a legal eagle," I explained.

Poor Mrs Baxter looked completely flummoxed. Tonia stepped forward and took her hand.

"I see he's told you as much as he told us," she said. "He gets some sort of perverted thrill from seeing people squirm. I'm Tonia and she's Lola. That one over there doesn't have a name. We just say 'hey, you' whenever we want something, like money."

Almost despite herself, Mrs Baxter laughed. I grinned for, as I had known she would, Tonia had managed to put the lady completely at her ease within a matter of seconds."

"Then I'm Penelope, known as Poppy," Mrs Baxter laughed. "You're partners?"

"The three of us are The Thompson Partnership."

Poppy's eyes flicked over us. "Partners in more ways than one, I would say," she said. "Oh, I'm sorry, that was rude." Her hand flew to cover her mouth.

Tonia laughed. "But very perceptive. Would you like to show us round your lovely house?"

And lovely it was; as lovely inside as it was out. Most of the original Georgian features were still there; the fireplaces, the ornate cornices, the dados the ceiling roses, the panelled doors. Where renovations or alterations had been done, the new work was carefully done to keep the look and feel of the original.

It was huge. It had over twenty rooms, five bathrooms, two shower rooms, three additional toilets, a utility room, and store rooms and cupboards everywhere. The public rooms were huge, high-ceilinged, light and airy and so beautifully decorated and elegantly furnished I was afraid to sit down.

"Get used to it, buster," Lola whispered. "This is how we're going to be living."

Poppy did her best to sell her house enthusiastically but her heart wasn't in it.

I pulled Tonia aside. "She doesn't want to move," I said quietly. "I'm going to step outside and let you talk to her. You need to know that Charles says she's another recruit." I held up my hand to stem her astonished query. "Charles doesn't run my life. Bear that in mind."

She kissed me lightly on the cheek. "That's why I love you," she whispered.

I explored the back yard. Hah! Some back yard. I found a door — not the one I'd come in by the other day — that led to a flagged patio with a barbecue grill. Beyond it was a small lawn and beyond that a walled kitchen garden. An herbaceous border ran along the wall. I crossed the patio to an open, paved courtyard that ran away from the house. There were outbuildings on two sides of it, probably stables originally and most of them in need of repair. Only the nearest seemed to have been maintained and, from the doors, I assumed they were garages. Still, they looked solid enough and there were definitely possibilities here.

I looked round as a girl on a bicycle came flying into the courtyard from the rear. She caught sight of me and screeched to a halt, dropping her bike and confronting me.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"Miss Baxter, I presume. I'm here to view the house." The family resemblance was unmistakable. She had the same slender frame and fine bones as her mother, the same luminous eyes and soft, dark hair. There was a dirty smudge on one cheek. She was wearing skin-tight jeans, riding boots and a hacking jacket. A protective hat hung from the handlebars. She smelled strongly of horses.

Her shoulders slumped. "Oh, yes. Mummy mentioned something about that." She raised her head to look me in the eye. "You're really not welcome, you know."

"Another one," came Charles's triumphant cry.

"Shut the fuck up, Charles," I thought.

"I know," I said to Miss Baxter calmly. "And I regret the necessity. If I lived here I would hate to have to sell it, too."

Her expression was a picture — somewhere between astonishment and belligerent disbelief. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. I'm well aware that your mother is being forced to sell up for reasons that I don't know and is most unhappy about it. That's why she's talking to my partners just now."

"Partners? I must see her." She started to brush past me.

"Leave them be." I said quietly but firmly, catching her arm. "Girl talk."

"Girl talk?"

"Yes. Now, perhaps you can tell me all about these buildings and the grounds."

"Your partners are women?"

I nodded.

"Well... okay, I suppose." Then her good manners kicked in and she blushed. "I'm sorry. I'm Catriona Baxter." She stuck out her hand.

I shook the proffered hand solemnly. She had a surprisingly firm grip. "Known as Cat?" I enquired with a grin.

"Yes." She looked surprised. "How did you know?"

My grin broadened. "It fits you, somehow."

"Fits... Oh," she blushed again. "You mean as in wild cat?" I merely grinned and suddenly she grinned back. "I stink. Would you mind awfully if I cleaned up before I show you around? Ten minutes?"

"Certainly, Catriona. I could always stand downwind of you but, please, be my guest."

"Not Cat?"

I shook my head. "Somehow I feel I must earn that privilege."

She looked at me oddly. "You're weird," she said and turned and ran into the house.

I poked around the out-buildings.

"Well?" Charles demanded. "Are you going to have her? And the mother?"

I sighed. "The idea of a mother and daughter does turn me on, especially a pair as attractive as they are," I said. "But these people have issues. Something's happened to Mr Baxter, and recently. I suspect he's dead and his death was unexpected and tragic. Either that or he's deserted them. I need to find out about that. Then there's Tonia and Lola to consider, and Debbie and Harry, too. How will they feel about, not just one, but two more women in the group?"

"What does it matter?"

"I'm not going through all that again. It matters. Accept it."

Catriona re-appeared looking fresh and scrubbed. She was wearing a pair of fashionable baggy, low-slung jeans, trainers and a red T-shirt with 'Airhead 2004' written on it. I was not a great fan of this 'builder's bum' fashion but I approved of the T-shirt. Her breasts were definitely perky.

"Not sure about the message," I said as she approached.

"Message?"

"On your T-shirt. I suspect you're anything but an airhead."

"They're a band," she said contemptuously. "It's from their UK tour." Then she blushed. "How d'you know I'm not an airhead?"

I tapped the side of my nose. "I have my methods."

"You are awful."

"But you like me?"

She crossed her arms under her breasts. "Jury's still out. I should hate you for wanting to buy my home but I don't."

"Ah, then there's hope for me yet," I said dramatically. She giggled. "Okay. Tell me about these buildings. Are they sound?"

"I don't know. I think so. I mean I don't think they'll fall down or anything but we've rather neglected them — all except the first two which are garages."

"I suspected that. The garage doors were a bit of a give-away. How much land is there?"

"About five acres."

"Whew. What do you do with it?"

"Some of it's rented to Mr McIngle. He has the farm next door where I keep my horse. Mrs McIngle runs a riding school and stable on the side."

"You like riding?"

"I adore it. I wanted to be a show jumper but I'm not built right."

"You look pretty well built to me. I mean you've got all the right bits in the right places — unless you've got a third arm hidden somewhere that you're not telling me about?"

She blushed and giggled. "I meant I don't have the right physique for show-jumping."

"I know. I was only teasing. Don't they talk about a 'good seat' or something like that? A euphemism for 'big bum', I suspect."

She blushed and giggled again. "Are you always like this?"

"Trade secret, lady," I winked. "You were telling me about your land. Where does it stretch to?"

"It'd be better to show you. You can see most of it from up the hill."

"I'd like that but I don't want to get too far away in case my partners finish their conference and, anyway, I'm not really dressed for climbing hills."

"I suppose not. And your 'partners' have finished. They're drinking tea in the kitchen with Mummy."

"That's terrible," I said in a shocked tone. "Drinking tea and they never offered me a cup. I'm sadly neglected, you know."

Another giggle. "You really are weird." She placed one hand upon my arm. "Don't worry, I'll look after you." She meant it as a joke but, in her eyes, there was a deeper, more serious, message.

I patted her hand. "I might take you up on that offer one day," I said, looking her straight in the eye. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and a slow flush spread across her face and down her neck. "For now, though, I think we'd better get back. Your mother and I need to discuss business."