Free I Remember You by Martin Edwards

shining from her eyes.
    â€˜To the south of Spain, that’s right.’
    â€˜Sounds wonderful.’
    She leaned forward, hands gripping the edge of his desk, lowering her voice as if about to confide a long-cherished secret.
    â€˜I’ve always longed to live in the sun. Shake the dust of Liverpool off my feet, taste a bit of the good life.’
    â€˜And your husband? What does he do?’
    â€˜Oh, he’s in ... er ... financial services. But between you and me, I think that’s a fancy name for debt collection. His company’s called Merseycredit.’ A confessional smile. ‘To tell you the truth, all his jargon’s double Dutch to me. I don’t take much notice of it.’
    â€˜And you’ve not found anywhere to buy yet?’
    â€˜No. But his company has organised rented accommodation for us.’
    â€˜I gather they are paying our bill.’
    â€˜Yes, so you don’t need to stint. They can afford it. Deduct your fee from the proceeds before you send it on - as long as that won’t delay matters.’
    I like this woman more and more , Harry thought to himself.
    â€˜No problem. I understand you already have a bank account over there: Puerto Banus, is that right? I know the name. One of the resorts, isn’t it? A millionaires’ playground or something?’
    She essayed a self-deprecating shrug of the shoulders. ‘We’re hardly in that league, Stuart and me.’
    But not on the breadline either, Harry reflected. A detached house in the best part of Formby would sell for five times the price of a flat in Empire Dock.
    â€˜You ought to take care in a place like that. You may find yourself in the same bar as some of our most famous bank robbers.’
    â€˜Just like downtown Liverpool, in fact,’ she said.
    They both laughed.
    â€˜You could say that only the failures stick around here,’ he said. ‘I had a client only last week who was arrested after leaving his wallet and all his credit cards in the building society he’d tried to hold up. Needless to say, his gun was a toy and they shooed him out empty-handed.’
    She laughed again. He thought he saw a spark of interest in the brown eyes.
    â€˜You have a fascinating job,’ she said. ‘Selling our house must seem simple - compared with all the crime and everything. But you don’t foresee any last minute hitches, I hope?’
    â€˜No, your buyers - Mr. and Mrs. Ambrose. - are willing and they seem to have the money in place. You’re not in a chain. It’s the perfect situation.’
    â€˜That’s what I wanted to hear.’ She slid a document in a plastic folder across the desk. ‘Here’s the contract. Stuart and I have both scrawled our signatures where Mr. Crusoe pencilled our initials. All right?’
    â€˜Fine. I can exchange for you now, so you’ll have a deal. Then we’ll get the draft conveyance for approval and requisitions on title.’
    She wrinkled her nose. ‘Sounds complicated. Mr. Crusoe reckoned it could all be done and dusted within a week of exchange - maybe less.’
    â€˜No problem,’ Harry said. ‘Formalities only. I’ll phone you to confirm all’s going smoothly.’
    â€˜No, you can’t do that. We’re ex-directory. My husband - in his line of business he values his privacy, even where his professional advisers are concerned. Listen, I can call in again if you like.’
    â€˜I’ll look forward to it.’
    â€˜Me too,’ she said.
    Harry showed her to the front door. As they shook hands again, he had the impression that this time the stronger pressure came from her. But married life had proved that, where women were concerned, he was a wishful-thinker. She might be interested in him, or simply playing a game; he did not expect he would ever find out.
    Suzanne caught his eye and mouthed, ‘Mr. Rogan on the line for you.’
    â€˜I’ll take it