He could imagine the look of irritation on Lisa’s face. ‘You’ve got to understand,’ he pleaded.

‘No,’ she retorted, ‘You’re the one who has to understand. I’ve put a lot of time into this and you promised me.’

‘I know, but what d’you expect me to do?’

‘You’ve seen your aunt, there’s not much you can do for her now, so get back here.’

‘I can’t leave her. I’m all she’s got.’

‘Does she even know you’re there?’ Her questions were coming back at him faster than he could think. ‘You’ve got a choice, Cal. If you don’t get back here and make this deal work, you can forget it. I’m never going to help you again. If my boss ever found out what I’ve done, I’d be for it and you know that.’

The line went dead. Cal cursed savagely. This was the make-or-break deal. He’d studied the West End, watching for houses and flats that could offer a potentially substantial profit, but people were canny enough to know the value of their property. On a tour one evening, he’d chanced upon an elderly lady in a wheelchair being taken into an ambulance. The paramedics were her only company, no friends or family in evidence. He’d reasoned that if there had been any relatives she would have called them when she required assistance. He kept a regular watch on the house and there was no sign that the woman had returned.

Lisa worked for a well established local estate agency and Cal had got to know her through his property dealings. She was an attractive, if rather soulless girl, but he had pursued her ruthlessly. It had paid off. The elderly woman’s son lived in London and wanted the ties of the house to be cut as quickly as possible. Lisa had been the one who’d taken his call and she had informed Cal. Everything had been coming together, until last night’s phone call.

Cal looked out of the living-room window. All was deep black.

He had come and now he could go. What more could be expected of him? And who was judging him? If he clinched this deal, he would be on his way. ‘Look forward!’ he urged himself. This struggle between future and past should have been straightforward, but for the fact of Mary dying in the room next door. She was the personification of his past and that made the choice so hard.

He walked through the house and out the back door, following the path round to the front. The wind chilled his cheeks and through the dark mounds of the land, he could see the moon shifting on the sea. His car sat at the end of the path on the other side of the gate. He could just get in it now and drive away. What further comfort could he give Mary? He had come and she’d known it, so what else was there to keep him? If she was dead by morning, what difference would it make whether he was sitting by her? None. If he secured this house in the city, his business would get the kick start it needed.