‘And …?’
He parked and turned off the engine.
‘To cut a long story short, they wanted detailed plans and costing to present to the building committee and if they approve it goes to a general meeting. But—’
‘Go on.’
‘The wheels of local government turn slowly. It’s unbelievably frustrating. Three months down the track, I’m still waiting for approval. But what’s turning out to be a bigger problem is that the planning department tells me I’m going to have to show the community can raise funds for half the cost of renovating a very old building that the council think is only fit for demolition.’
‘Before they give approval?’
‘That’s right.’ The smile was gone and Will looked despondent.
‘So it’s not going to be a help for Brad and kids like him any time soon.’
‘No.’
Will reached into the back to get Sophie’s bag, a signal that the conversation was over. But Sophie wasn’t about to be put off.
‘How much?’
Will could no longer disguise his disillusionment.
‘An impossible amount.’
‘Nothing’s impossible.’ Sophie knew about fundraising for the sort of amounts that would be impossible if you depended on cake stalls and bring-and-buy sales. For some of her mother’s friends, raising large amounts of money for charity was a very acceptable occupation.
‘How much?’
‘Two hundred thousand dollars.’
‘Oh.’
‘An awful lot of money.’
‘Yes, I can understand the problem.’
But not impossible.
Sophie didn’t want to labour the point when she had nothing tangible to offer. In Sydney in the same situation all she’d have to do would be to ask her parents to help. Her father would pull strings and know all the right people to ask for financial backing. And her mother revelled in organising high-profile events for charity. It helped that it was fashionable to donate to philanthropic worthy causes in certain circles.
But Prevely Springs was nothing like the eastern suburbs of Sydney. She doubted the community would even be considered worthy, let alone high profile enough to get the desired publicity that usually went with large donations.
Someone she hoped she could help, though, was Brad.
‘Can I go with you on your next visit to Bella Farris and I’ll try to break the ice with her son.’ At least she could attempt to break down some barriers with the withdrawn teenager.
‘Sounds great,’ he said, and the expression on his face changed to one of appreciation. Sophie felt a real buzz in response to her boss’s approval. ‘No harm in trying, but don’t expect too much. You might end up disappointed.’
Then Will promptly changed the subject, ending their conversation about Bella and her son and the future of the derelict building on the next block.
‘You must be keen to see the flat.’
At the thought of a comfortable bed, Sophie felt sudden overwhelming tiredness.
‘I guess I am.’
‘It’s only a short drive to Sabiston. You can follow me.’
‘Okay.’
Sophie glanced across at Will, who was concentrating on changing stations on his car radio. His face was blank. What was going on in his head? What impression had her unconventional intrusion into his life made? Their lives were so different. He appeared to be a very private person, not bound to convention or what people expected of him.
She could live with that.
Then she thought of Bella and her introverted son and realised how small her problems were in the grand scheme of things. She felt humbled and even more determined to make a go of it.
CHAPTER THREE
SOPHIE followed in her own car as Will headed west towards the coast. The scenery transformed as soon as they crossed the railway line. Grey-slabbed roadside pavements and graffiti’d walls of grubby corner shops made way for expansive, grassed road verges, quiet streets lined with jacaranda trees and suburbs dotted with slick shopping malls.
Sophie hit the brake pedal as Will indicated to turn into the narrow driveway of a two-storey block of about a dozen art deco flats clustered around a neatly kept garden and a small brick-paved car park. The neighbourhood reeked of old money and good taste.
The surrounding residences were large and palatial without being ostentatious. The neighbouring property was a prime example—a rambling old house with an immaculately kept grassed tennis court and a garage nearly as big as Sophie’s old flat back home. It reminded her of her parents’ house in Manly.
She eased the car into the last remaining resident’s space as Will climbed out of his car and walked across to open her door.
‘I just need to collect the keys.’ He gestured in the general direction of the neighbouring house. ‘Do you want to meet your landlord?’
‘Okay.’
‘He’s a colleague of mine and we went through medical school together. Andrew Fletcher. He’s one of the top cardiologists around town.’
‘He must be doing well for himself,’ she said.
‘Yeah, I guess so.’
Sophie deduced they weren’t great friends. She couldn’t be sure but she thought there was a hint of bitterness in Will’s voice, though he didn’t seem the type to be jealous of those better off than him. They walked silently up the long drive to the front door. Sophie noticed the camera above them as Will rang the bell. A gravelly voice grated through the intercom. There was the sound of several other people talking and laughing in the background.
‘Will, I was expecting you earlier. We’re round the back by the pool. Let yourself in the side gate and come and join the party.’ The camera swivelled like a giant reptilian eye. ‘And great to see you’ve brought such a gorgeous-looking friend.’
‘Party?’ Sophie was confused.
‘I knew nothing about it. I just told him I’d call in to get the keys some time this afternoon.’
Will opened one side of a pair of heavy wooden gates and then he politely followed her through to the party where they were greeted by a man Sophie assumed to be Andrew Fletcher.
‘So you must be my new neighbour? How delightful to meet you.’ The bare-chested man still dripping from the pool briefly glanced at Will before holding out his hand to Sophie. His grip was a little too firm and he held her hand a little too long. ‘I’m Andrew Fletcher. Sorry—I didn’t catch your name.’
He had the lean, muscular build, dazzling blue eyes and classically honed features of a Hollywood movie star. Looks designed to catch any woman’s eye—and he knew it.
He was eerily like Jeremy in both looks and manner, and the similarities made Sophie feel uncomfortable. She glanced across at Will, hoping for some indication from him as to whether to take this larger-than-life show pony seriously. Will’s expression suggested he disapproved of the man’s blatant flirting as much as she did.
‘Sophie. Sophie Carmichael.’ She desperately tried to stop her voice trembling