Home Before Sundown by Barbara Hannay Page B

down the hallway to the kitchen, but she didn’t go in when she heard her aunt’s voice. Liz was talking on the phone.
    â€˜Yes, Michael, I’m quite certain,’ her aunt said and there was no mistaking the tension and finality in her voice.
    Bella was about to retreat when she heard Liz say goodbye and hang up. She waited a moment or two and then ventured into the kitchen.
    Liz was standing at the sink with her back to Bella as she stared out into the night-dark landscape.
    â€˜Hi,’ Bella said softly.
    Liz turned and smiled. ‘Hi, Bella. Do you fancy a hot chocolate before bed?’
    â€˜I’d love one.’
    Bella went to the pantry cupboard and found the tin of powdered chocolate while Liz set a pan of milk on the stove.
    â€˜Did you email Anton?’ Liz asked.
    â€˜Yep, but it’s hard to make what I’m doing here sound exciting or even vaguely interesting.’
    Liz gave her a thoughtful smile.
    â€˜Were you ringing London?’ Bella asked.
    â€˜Yes.’ Liz stood staring at the pan of heating milk. ‘I’ve just broken up with someone.’
    â€˜Oh.’ Bella was only dimly aware of her aunt’s private life. She’d sensed there’d been several men who’d been lovers, but she’d never heard any talk of long-term commitment. ‘Was . . . was it difficult to break up?’
    â€˜Not really. He didn’t like it, but I know it was the right thing.’ Liz lifted the saucepan, just as the milk came to a rolling boil. ‘Distance certainly didn’t make my heart grow fonder. That’s a pretty good test, isn’t it?’
    â€˜I guess it must be,’ said Bella, feeling guilty.
    â€˜Mrs Fairburn?’ It was two days later when Liz received another phone call.
    â€˜This is Liz Fairburn speaking.’
    â€˜The piano teacher?’
    Liz hesitated. ‘Who is this?’
    â€˜Jack Roper.’
    Liz swallowed her surprise. She hadn’t really expected the boy’s grandfather to call. His voice was deep, brusque and businesslike.
    â€˜How can I help you, Mr Roper?’
    â€˜I believe you’ve offered my grandson piano lessons.’
    Somehow Liz bit back the temptation to laugh, but her blood was up. ‘Is that what Alex told you?’ Cheeky monkey . She’d made no such offer.
    â€˜It would involve a lot of my time, bringing him over to you for the lessons. I’m a busy man, Mrs Fairburn.’
    â€˜ Ms Fairburn,’ Liz corrected. ‘And as it happens, I’m quite busy, too, Mr Roper.’
    A small silence ticked by.
    â€˜What are your qualifications?’ he asked tersely. ‘Are you a trained teacher?’
    â€˜I don’t have an education degree.’
    There was a satisfied grunt. ‘Just as I thought. I’ve already told Alex––’
    Liz understood that discretion was the better part of valour, but she couldn’t help setting this annoying cattleman straight. ‘However, I have studied piano at the London School of Music, the International Academy in Vienna and the Juilliard School in New York.’
    Her caller cleared his throat.
    â€˜Mr Roper.’ Liz spoke with exaggerated patience. ‘Alex approached me for lessons and he seemed very keen. However––’
    â€˜The boy’s keen. There’s no denying that.’
    â€˜Yes, but I’m sorry. I don’t think––’
    â€˜You’re about an hour and a half from here. I could bring him to you on Saturday mornings. What do you charge?’
    Liz was poised to protest. She really didn’t want another pupil and she certainly didn’t want to be bulldozed. The very last thing she needed was some pompous old fart hovering impatiently around the homestead while she tried to teach his unfortunate grandson.
    But she couldn’t help remembering the boy’s phone call. There’d been something about Alex. He’d been so