Believe me.’
‘How…how do you know all this?’ she asked after a long pause.
He smiled slightly. ‘I do my homework.’
‘You…you wouldn’t be in the market for some extra space in this estate, by any chance?’
‘No, Domenica, I wouldn’t. Do you think I’d be advising you to ask this for it—’ he tapped the bill ‘—if I were?’
They stared at each other, she tensely, he rather mockingly. Until she said a little awkwardly, ‘I just can’t imagine why you would…just because you wanted Lidcombe Peace…investigate us so thoroughly.’
He didn’t answer immediately. Then he shrugged. ‘It had some bearing on what I’d get Lidcombe Peace for.’
‘You said you—’ her voice quivered ‘—you paid what you thought was a realistic price.’
‘Yes. Taking everything into consideration.’
Her awkwardness changed to contempt. He could see it in her eyes and the way her beautiful mouth set severely. And he knew what to expect before she said it. ‘That’s despicable, Mr Keir. I assume you mean taking into consideration that I was fairly desperate!’
He shrugged. ‘Life can be a bit of a jungle, Miss Harris. But if you take my advice on the warehouse, and if you invest some of the profits as I would be prepared to advise you, your mother should be well provided for, for the rest of her life. She may even be able to continue to live in the manner to which she’s accustomed.’
Domenica breathed deeply and fought a tide of emotion, an unusual, for her, desire to scream and shout at this man—but what if he was right? she wondered suddenly.
Her mother was one of those people you loved, especially as a daughter—excepting on those days when you wondered why; days when she was impossibly impractical, when she was being a raving snob as if she still queened it over society and had her parents’ great wealth to fall back on, when she was unbelievably extravagant. But the thing was, it was impossible to see Barbara Harris unhappy. It was a bit like closing down the sun…
She said slowly, ‘I might just take you up on that, Mr Keir. Unless you have a certain kind of repayment in mind?’ Her blue gaze was steady, and satirical.
‘Your body for my financial expertise?’ he hazarded gravely.
‘I can’t imagine why else you would do it,’ she said levelly.
‘You could be right.’
Domenica put her cup down and stood up, only a hair’s breadth from slapping his face.
But Angus Keir remained seated, with his eyes laughing at her. Just as she was about to swing on her heel, though, he stood up and said, ‘To clarify things, Domenica, no, I wouldn’t expect that kind of payment. But I would like to get to know you, that would certainly be a way of going about it, and you just might enjoy getting to know me. What would happen from there on—who knows?’ He shrugged into his jacket and picked up the bill. ‘Shall we go?’
‘Your car has been delivered, Dom.’
Domenica looked up from her drawing-board. It was seven o’clock the same evening. She and her partner, Natalie White, were working late although their other staff had left and it was Natalie who was standing beside her dangling a set of car keys.
Domenica looked at the keys then at Natalie, dazedly. ‘But it can’t be. They said it could take at least a day or two to get the part.’
‘Nevertheless…’ Natalie grinned ‘…it has just been delivered by a driver wearing a Keir Conway overall who told me to tell you that, on instructions from the boss, he rushed the part down himself, supervised its installation and drove the car back. He also said that, while you should have no more immediate problems with it, it’s probably about time you gave some thought to acquiring a new vehicle. Oh, and the bill has been settled, compliments of the boss, too.’
Domenica looked around the colourful chaos of the studio with its big half-moon windows, and said something unprintable not quite beneath her breath.
‘Darling,’ Natalie murmured, ‘I know you explained briefly about this Angus Keir and what you hold against the man, but are you sure you’re not spurning a knight in shining armour? When a country garage tells you it could take at least a day or two to track down a part, in my experience and certainly for a car that’s not in its first flush of youth, they’re actually talking in terms of weeks!’
Domenica started to say something but Natalie went on, ‘And considering that your hatchback doubles as our delivery vehicle, considering—’ she gestured around ‘—how much stock we have to deliver at the moment and the cost of hiring a vehicle—’
‘Stop,’ Domenica broke in but chuckling. ‘You’re right! It still doesn’t make me enjoy being beholden to the man!’
Natalie, a five-feet-two bubbly blonde, perched on the corner of a cutting table and studied Domenica thoughtfully. ‘I would say this Angus Keir is well and truly smitten, Dom. Is that such a bad thing? Sounds as if he’s rolling in dough.’ She shrugged and eyed her friend and partner shrewdly. ‘What exactly did happen between you two?’
Domenica frowned, because her encounter with Angus Keir had started to take on a surreal quality. They’d said little on the drive back to Sydney, and she’d recovered her composure sufficiently to thank him both for the lift and lunch, although with a cool little glint in her eyes as if to warn him off. But either he’d heeded it or he’d needed no warning off, because he’d responded in kind, and left it at that. All the same, she’d had the feeling she was amusing him and that would not be that—as she now knew.
But even with this reminder—she took her keys from Natalie and stared at them—the whole encounter seemed more like a dream than reality, except for the fact that it had been difficult to concentrate all afternoon because even a dreamlike recollection of events had made her feel restless and edgy.
She sighed suddenly. ‘I don’t really know, Nat. But for some reason he—makes me nervous.’
She was to repeat that sentiment later in the evening, at home with her mother and sister Christabel.
At twenty-two, three years younger than Domenica, Christabel still lived at home with Barbara Harris at Rose Bay in a house overlooking the harbour.
Close to the shopping delights of Double Bay and because she’d lived there for the past twenty years, Barbara Harris had mentioned several times that she’d die rather than be parted from her Rose Bay home although it was far too big for just her and Christabel.
She’d also tried to make Domenica feel guilty about moving out to a flat of her own several years previously and had tried desperately to persuade her to come home after Walter’s death. But Domenica knew that it had been a wise move to stay put because she and her mother were at their best with each other when they each had their own space. Although she often spent the night or the weekend with them and would do so tonight.
Whereas Christabel, who had always been quiet and studious and looked set to follow in their father’s footsteps, was able to shut herself off from Barbara’s more difficult moods. Still at university pursuing an MA in History, she was also working part-time as a research
