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He whistled down the line. ‘That is one hell of a good idea. The house is past it, from what you’ve said, but the views are great, right? It sounds like the perfect place for a bijou hotel that charges the earth.’

OK, that really wasn’t how she felt.

‘I’m quite upset, actually,’ she said, quietly.

‘Aw, of course you are, but you have to approach it from a business point of view, rather than emotional overload.’

‘Do I?’

‘You know it makes sense. Mind you, anyone with half a brain holidays abroad these days, but I guess some people prefer a staycation.’

‘Loads of tourists visit Heaven’s Cove every year. It’s a jewel in Devon’s crown.’

That was taken directly from a tourist brochure Rosie had come across while searching the hall cupboard for a will. She hadn’t found one.

Matt sniffed. ‘Jewel or not, it’s still Devon we’re talking about, not the Costa del Sol.’

‘Devon has its own unique charm.’

‘If you insist. But what a crying shame you don’t actually own the house or you’d be minted. I just cannot believe that your mother didn’t tell you—’

‘Me neither,’ said Rosie, cutting Matt off before he could exclaim once again over her mum’s secrecy. ‘If I owned the house, I don’t think I’d sell it anyway.’

‘You’re kidding, right? You’d sell it for a small fortune and come back to Spain with enough money to set us up in our own business.Carruthers and Merchant, Property Consultants.I can see it now.’

Surely it should beMerchant and Carruthers,if she was the partner with all the cash? And if she actually came into a small fortune, she’d rather open a cosy B&B in the mountains than try to flog property. Rosie shook her head. There was no point in getting peeved.

‘I found something weird when I was looking at the funeral flowers,’ she said, keen to move the subject on from money.

‘Like I said, that’s a bit ghoulish, Rosie.’

‘It was comforting, actually, seeing all the nice things that people have said about Mum. But there was something odd. There were some flowers and a card from someone who referred to Mum as “Saffy” and signed the card “J”.’

‘Saffy?’ laughed Matt. ‘What kind of name is Saffy?’

‘It was Mum’s pet name and no one, except my dad and my grandparents, ever knew it or used it.’

‘The mystery deepens. Perhaps secretive Saffy had a toy boy on the go,’ snorted Matt.

‘It’s not funny.’

‘No, I know it’s not, babe,’ said Matt, suddenly serious. ‘It’s all really upsetting for you. But at least now the funeral’s over, you can come home and things can go back to normal.’

Normal? That was a concept Rosie couldn’t imagine right now. Only a few days had passed since she’d left Spain, but she felt like a different person already. Sadder, thinner – she couldn’t be bothered to cook for one in Driftwood House’s big old kitchen – and more unsettled. She’d thought that she and her mum were close, in spite of the miles between them. She’d thought her mum had told her everything important that she needed to know. But she’d thought wrong.

‘Are you still there, Rosie?’

‘Yeah, I’m still here.’

‘I think the connection’s a bit dodgy so I’ll get back to work, but keep your chin up and I can’t wait to see you again soon.’

‘You too. I need you,’ said Rosie, biting her lip the moment the words were out. Matt hated clingy women.

‘I explained why I couldn’t make it over for the funeral, babe.’

‘Yeah, of course. That’s fine. That’s not what I meant. I don’t know what I meant really.’

‘Well, just get back over here as soon as you can. Gotta go ’cos Carmen needs my help again. Love you.’

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