A Desirable Residence - By Madeleine Wickham Page 0,75

waves of panic began to run through him.

‘The thing is,’ he said, in an elaborately casual voice, ‘that the estate’s been sold.’

‘Really?’ Ginny looked up in dismay. ‘Gosh, that’s quick! Oh, what a shame. It would have made a lovely feature!’

‘Yes well,’ said Marcus briskly. ‘Never mind. I’m sure we’ve got lots of other things on our books that would make interesting press releases.’ He held out his hand for the papers. But Ginny, infuriatingly, was still leafing through the details. And he didn’t dare interrupt her, with Suzy sitting there. Suzy wasn’t the brightest of girls, but even she might start to wonder why he was so bothered about one set of property details. She might take it upon herself to mention it to Miles. Or, even worse, Nigel. He leaned casually against the door frame and forced himself to smile at Ginny.

‘I love Panning,’ she said dreamily. ‘If I ever had a lot of money, I’d definitely think about moving there.’ She looked down again, and a pink tinge crept across her face. ‘I mean,’ she said, ‘look at this lovely farmhouse. Only a hundred thousand pounds.’

Marcus clenched his fists. That farm house was worth at least half as much again. But he’d had to scale everything down a bit. Perhaps he’d been too drastic.

‘Yes, well,’ he said quickly, ‘the market has dropped. As well you know.’

‘Who bought it?’ said Ginny abruptly. ‘Perhaps we could interview them.’

‘No!’ shouted Marcus without thinking. ‘I mean,’ he added, ‘I don’t think they’d be very keen on the idea. There were some complications. I think you’d better forget all about it.’ He leant over, and, fighting the urge to snatch, gently lifted the Panning Hall papers from Ginny’s hand.

‘Could I have some coffee please, Suzy?’ he managed to say, before disappearing into his office.

He sat down heavily at his desk, swivelled his chair so he was facing away from the door, and looked unwillingly at the details. While he’d been writing them up, he’d practically managed to convince himself that his valuation was accurate. Taking a fifth, or a third, or even half off every figure had become an automatic calculation, almost as though he were deducting some unavoidable surcharge or tax.

But now, seen in the cold light of day, it was obvious that the asking prices were far too low. When Leo came to sell the place on, he would get at least his extra million. Perhaps a couple of million. Marcus’s thoughts flickered uncomfortably to the beneficiaries of the estate. The unsuspicious daughters in America. Between them, he and Leo had done them out of a good chunk of their inheritance. Did he now feel guilty? he wondered. Remorseful? He gingerly tested his feelings. But the only emotion he could identify was alarm. From having once seemed utterly failsafe, the whole affair now seemed wrought with holes.

He told himself firmly that Ginny had probably already forgotten about the whole thing. But in a small part of his mind, a stream of worrying pictures had started to flow. Ginny exclaiming to the world over the price of Panning Hall. Miles asking interestedly to see the details. That dreadful old character from the village deciding to phone the police. Miles would find out. Miles would be devastated. Marcus felt his shoulders hunch uncomfortably. Once, that thought would have spurred him on even further. But now it only made him feel more anxious.

He stared out of the window at the cheerless grey sky, and felt a shiver go through him. Suddenly he wondered why he had agreed to it in the first place. The money wasn’t worth it; really wasn’t worth it, he suddenly thought with fervour. His income from Witherstone’s was ample; he had enough capital to be comfortable; what did he need more for? And how, it occurred to him for the first time, was he going to spend this sudden windfall? Nothing went unnoticed in Silchester, not a new car, nor a glamorous holiday, not even a new suit. Besides, he thought tetchily, he didn’t want a new suit. Nor a new car.

‘Your coffee, Mr Witherstone.’ Suzy’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

‘Thank you, Suzy.’ Marcus waited until she had left the room before he swivelled round to face his desk and took a sip of coffee. The solution was simple and obvious, he told himself. He could just turn down his cut. Turn down the twenty per cent. Let Leo sell the estate at a huge profit, and if anybody started