His raised eyebrow suggested that what he did in the US was none of her business and he was undoubtedly right, but his daughter was happy to fill the gap.
‘According to my mother,’ she said, ‘George is a beach bum.’
At this point ‘Lady Rose’ would have smiled politely and moved on. Annie didn’t have to do that.
‘Is your mother right?’ she asked.
‘He doesn’t go to work unless he feels like it. Lives on the beach. If it looks like a duck and walks like a duck…’
She was looking at George, talking to him, but the replies kept coming from his daughter, stage left, and Annie shook her head just once, lifted a hand to silence the girl, waiting for him to answer her question.
CHAPTER THREE
‘I’M AFRAID it’s your bad luck that my daughter answered your call,’ George replied, not bothering to either confirm or deny it. ‘If I’d got to the phone first I’d have told you to ring someone else.’
‘I see. So why didn’t you simply call another garage and arrange for them to pick me up?’ Annie asked, genuinely puzzled.
‘It would have taken too long and, since you were on your own…’ He let it go.
She didn’t.
‘Oh, I see. You’re a gentleman beach bum?’
‘Don’t count on it,’ he replied.
No. She wouldn’t do that, but he appeared to have a conscience and she could work with that.
She’d had years of experience in parting millionaires from their money in a good cause and this seemed like a very good moment to put what she’d learned to use on her own behalf.
‘It’s a pity your concern doesn’t stretch as far as fixing my car.’ Since his only response was to remove his jacket and hang it over the back of a chair, the clearest statement that he was going nowhere, she continued. ‘So, George…’ use his name, imply that they were friends ‘…having brought me here under false pretences, what do you suggest I do now?’