of her voice and failed.
‘It was after your grandad snuffed it. Your gran was worried about money—funeral expenses, legal fees, house repairs, utility bills, all sorts of things. She’d never had to cope with all that stuff. So …’
He paused, and there was an unholy note in his voice. Flavia could hear it, with a hollowing of her insides.
‘I offered to help out. Tide her over, so to speak. ‘Course, I had to make a bit of profit out of it, didn’t I? So maybe the interest rate
was
a bit more than the bank would have charged. But then your gran wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know she was borrowing money, would she? Bit
infra dig
, don’t you know?’ Her ruthlessly mimicked an upper-class accent. ‘Whereas having your own son-in-law lend a hand—and some filthy lucre—was quite different!’
Flavia’s jaw clenched. Yes,
different
, all right! Though the principle sum loaned had been high, the ruinous, outrageous rate of interest her poor bewildered grandmother had agreed to made the total repayments monstrous! She was still reeling, heaving with shock and sickness. She stared again at the solicitor’s letter setting out the total amount currently owed. Dear God—this wasn’t a question of selling a few antiques to raise a few thousand. This was ten, twenty times more! A fortune!
Her mind raced frantically. She
had
to pay that terrifyingdebt off! It was mounting daily, and it was hideous—hideous! But there was only one way to do it. Borrow money to pay it off.
She swallowed, her hand gripping the phone like a vice. ‘I’ll get it repaid,’ she said grimly. ‘I’ll raise a mortgage on Harford and settle the debt that way!’
How she would pay the mortgage off was something she’d cope with later—right now the only priority was to stop her father’s rip-off loan increasing even more, even faster.
Her father gave a laugh. It raised hairs on the back of her neck.
‘You haven’t got time. The next letter you get from me will be a foreclosure.’
‘What?’
‘Didn’t you read the loan agreement? The loan is secured against Harford, and I can demand repayment at any time. Which means—’ there was a fat, satisfied note in his voice that made Flavia want to scream ‘—I can force a sale whenever I want. Like … tomorrow.’
There was silence. Absolute silence. Flavia could not speak, could not think. Could only stand clutching the phone, swaying with shock, disbelief and horror.
Into the silence, her father spoke.
‘It doesn’t have to be this way, Flavia. It can be a whole lot easier. In fact—’ a new note entered his voice, which made her flesh crawl ‘—it should be very enjoyable for you—that’s what Anita says, and she knows about these things. She’s very envious of you.’
Through her pounding heartbeat, Flavia spoke. ‘What … what do you mean?’
Her father gave another laugh. Fat and satisfied.
‘You’ve made a conquest,’ he informed her. ‘Leon Maranz has taken a shine to you—he’s keen to get in touch. The only problem is—’ Flavia could hear her father’s voice ice with anger ‘—
you
are refusing to play ball!’
Colour flared out along Flavia’s cheeks. ‘I don’t want anything to do with Leon Maranz!’
‘Tough!’ retorted her father. ‘He wants you, and right now anything Leon Maranz wants and I can get him he gets.’
Flavia’s chest heaved. ‘If you think for a single moment that I—’
Her father cut her off. ‘What I
think
is that you will pack your bags and take the first train to London tomorrow morning. And you
will
get in touch with Leon Maranz, and you
will
be very, very nice to him.
Do you understand
me
?’
There was ice in Flavia’s veins. Ice in her voice. ‘What
exactly
do you mean by “nice”?’
Her answer was a coarse, impatient sound. ‘Oh, for God’s sake—do you want diagrams? You’re not a nun—even if you try and dress like one! Though God knows it seems to have turned
him
on, so I guess
‘It was after your grandad snuffed it. Your gran was worried about money—funeral expenses, legal fees, house repairs, utility bills, all sorts of things. She’d never had to cope with all that stuff. So …’
He paused, and there was an unholy note in his voice. Flavia could hear it, with a hollowing of her insides.
‘I offered to help out. Tide her over, so to speak. ‘Course, I had to make a bit of profit out of it, didn’t I? So maybe the interest rate
was
a bit more than the bank would have charged. But then your gran wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know she was borrowing money, would she? Bit
infra dig
, don’t you know?’ Her ruthlessly mimicked an upper-class accent. ‘Whereas having your own son-in-law lend a hand—and some filthy lucre—was quite different!’
Flavia’s jaw clenched. Yes,
different
, all right! Though the principle sum loaned had been high, the ruinous, outrageous rate of interest her poor bewildered grandmother had agreed to made the total repayments monstrous! She was still reeling, heaving with shock and sickness. She stared again at the solicitor’s letter setting out the total amount currently owed. Dear God—this wasn’t a question of selling a few antiques to raise a few thousand. This was ten, twenty times more! A fortune!
Her mind raced frantically. She
had
to pay that terrifyingdebt off! It was mounting daily, and it was hideous—hideous! But there was only one way to do it. Borrow money to pay it off.
She swallowed, her hand gripping the phone like a vice. ‘I’ll get it repaid,’ she said grimly. ‘I’ll raise a mortgage on Harford and settle the debt that way!’
How she would pay the mortgage off was something she’d cope with later—right now the only priority was to stop her father’s rip-off loan increasing even more, even faster.
Her father gave a laugh. It raised hairs on the back of her neck.
‘You haven’t got time. The next letter you get from me will be a foreclosure.’
‘What?’
‘Didn’t you read the loan agreement? The loan is secured against Harford, and I can demand repayment at any time. Which means—’ there was a fat, satisfied note in his voice that made Flavia want to scream ‘—I can force a sale whenever I want. Like … tomorrow.’
There was silence. Absolute silence. Flavia could not speak, could not think. Could only stand clutching the phone, swaying with shock, disbelief and horror.
Into the silence, her father spoke.
‘It doesn’t have to be this way, Flavia. It can be a whole lot easier. In fact—’ a new note entered his voice, which made her flesh crawl ‘—it should be very enjoyable for you—that’s what Anita says, and she knows about these things. She’s very envious of you.’
Through her pounding heartbeat, Flavia spoke. ‘What … what do you mean?’
Her father gave another laugh. Fat and satisfied.
‘You’ve made a conquest,’ he informed her. ‘Leon Maranz has taken a shine to you—he’s keen to get in touch. The only problem is—’ Flavia could hear her father’s voice ice with anger ‘—
you
are refusing to play ball!’
Colour flared out along Flavia’s cheeks. ‘I don’t want anything to do with Leon Maranz!’
‘Tough!’ retorted her father. ‘He wants you, and right now anything Leon Maranz wants and I can get him he gets.’
Flavia’s chest heaved. ‘If you think for a single moment that I—’
Her father cut her off. ‘What I
think
is that you will pack your bags and take the first train to London tomorrow morning. And you
will
get in touch with Leon Maranz, and you
will
be very, very nice to him.
Do you understand
me
?’
There was ice in Flavia’s veins. Ice in her voice. ‘What
exactly
do you mean by “nice”?’
Her answer was a coarse, impatient sound. ‘Oh, for God’s sake—do you want diagrams? You’re not a nun—even if you try and dress like one! Though God knows it seems to have turned
him
on, so I guess
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