‘I’m moving to Spain.’
‘What? When?’
‘Tonight. My flight leaves from Luton at eight o’clock.’
‘Mum, don’t you think you’re rushing into this?’
‘Not at all. I’ve been planning it for years. I always wanted to live in Spain, but your father couldn’t cope with the climate. Me and Marjorie always said as soon as he died, I’d be on the first plane over there.’
‘But Dad’s not dead.’
‘He is to me.’
‘But where will you live?’
‘With Marjorie to begin with, then I’ll buy my own place. I’ve got an estate agent coming to value the house this afternoon.’
‘This house?’
‘Of course, this house.’
‘But what about me?’
‘Sarah, you’re pushing thirty and still living at home. It’s about time you stood on your own two feet.’
Sarah sat dumbfounded, nursing her cup of tea, staring at her mother. Cynthia had gone mad. That was the only explanation. Sarah was thinking of ways to head off the imminent arrival of an estate agent when the doorbell rang.
‘That will be Greg.’
‘Greg?’
‘The estate agent. Keep up, love.’
Sarah looked on as Cynthia rushed to the front door, stopping at a mirror to slick a layer of pink across her lips.
‘Greg, how wonderful of you to fit me in at such short notice.’
‘It’s no trouble at all, Mrs Lint. I’m pleased I can be of service. My, what a beautiful home you have here.’
‘Thank you,’ said Cynthia, giving a girlish giggle and leading the estate agent through to the kitchen.
When Greg walked in, Sarah spat her tea out across the kitchen table. ‘Greg? When did you become an estate agent?’
‘Around the same time Mark did. We’ve gone into business together.’
Mark? An estate agent? And here was his brother, standing in Sarah’s kitchen like they were old friends.
‘How is the lovely Mark?’ asked Cynthia, batting her eyelashes at the scrawny man in an over-sized suit.
‘He’s good, thanks.’ Greg turned to Sarah. ‘Did you know he’s met someone?’
Sarah blanched. She may still have Mark’s photo on her bedroom wall, but she drew the line at internet stalking. ‘No, I didn’t know. Is she someone local?’
‘He is, yes.’
‘He?’
Greg laughed. ‘Yes, that surprised us all. He’s a dark horse is my brother. Anyway, Mrs Lint, would you like to do the honours and give me a tour?’
