NO ONE ASKED, SO NO ONE WAS TOLD, WHAT MARY ANNE SLOAN'S LAST words had been.

Only one person knew, and she was about to leave the house with the unshared information. "I see you're packed," Dr. Cameron said, entering the bedroom. "Are you not going to spend the night here?" "No," Kathy replied. "I don't think I should stay any longer." The doctor looked sympathetically into the young woman's eyes. He had seen her at the hospital, overwhelmed by Mrs. Sloan's collapse and eventual death. "Had Mary Anne told you about her illness?" asked the doctor. "No No. I had no idea. She never mentioned it. And she looked so lively." "Oh, she was. She was. Never seemed to find time to give that feeble heart of hers a rest." Mrs. Sloan's sister, Frances, then knocked on the open door. "Can I come in?" "Of course, Mrs. Martin. In fact, I was about to go look for you. To pay my last respects and say goodbye." Mrs. Martin understood that Kathy was firmly resolved to leave, so she didn't attempt to convince her to stay, which would only uselessly delay the young woman's plans for a couple of probably uncomfortable days among strangers. Nevertheless, she did want Kathy to know that they, Mary Anne Sloan's family, were happy to have her there. "I wanted to thank you, Katherine, for all that you've done. For being a good friend to my sister, for calling us and preparing the house for us. Taking care of the first arrangements for the funeral. And, especially, and most greatly, for being with Mary Anne when she in her last moments. "It was the least I could do," answered Kathy, gently touching the lady's shoulder when the memory of her sister made her voice trail off. "You see, I may have known Mrs. Sloan for a very short time, but I can assure you that she is the best friend I've ever had." Frances Martin took this as a compliment and held Kathy's hands in a gesture of gratitude, unaware of the fact that the young woman's comment conveyed a much greater sentiment and a deeper meaning. "I've no doubt she thought highly of you too."

"Oh, I can certify that, Mrs. Martin," said Dr. Cameron. "In one of our last conversations, your sister told me how delighted she was with her guest." "She said she felt you were family," he added, looking at Kathy. Kathy smiled. "Well, I really have to be leaving now. I have a plane to catch and the taxi will be here any minute." "Would you mind if I shared it with you?" the doctor asked. "The hospital is on the same route." "On the contrary." When she was reaching the door, resolved to interpret those two words as the beginning of an unimportant conversation abruptly ended, the bell rang. And when she opened, the two most intense brown eyes she had ever seen stared at her. HE KEPT STARING FOR A FEW SECONDS. "Are you Kathy?" he finally asked. "Yes." "It's good to see you, pal!" intervened Dr. Cameron, crossing the threshold onto the doorsteps, where the stranger was still standing, to pat his back and shake hands. "Sad it has to be under these circumstances. Kathy," he then added, turning to her, "please meet Jesse. Kathy raised her eyebrows and stared back at the man in his thirties, who, despite the doctor's effusiveness, was still looking at her. "Nice to meet you," she said. The newcomer - or maybe latecomer - seemed to be pondering something before he answered. "It's great to see you at last, Katherine." And then he gently kissed her cheek. Kathy went red, which was a feature of her childhood she had been able to control for the last two decades. It made her feel weak, and that was one thing she couldn't afford right at this moment.

Fortunately, Mrs. Martin and her daughter, Geneva, released her from those seconds of selfconsciousness when they came into the hall to greet Jesse. Kathy paid attention to everyone's reactions, hoping to discover as soon as possible who this Jesse was, for she had several good motives. The first and most important, of course, was that his name had been Mrs. Sloan's last word - not only that: she had expressly asked her to meet him. This ought to induce her to partiality, since Mary Anne would not have wished her to become acquainted to anyone less than honorable. Secondly, Dr. Cameron, who had started to win Kathy's respect and trust, was truly pleased to see him. And third, she was curious to know why he had caused such a strong effect on her, for no apparent reason. She raised her head, unconsciously drawn down by timidness. He, again, in the middle of mixed conversations, questions, answers and condolescences, met her gaze. "You can't leave," said Jesse, looking directly at Kathy. "Why not?" she asked, a little annoyed. "You are to stay to the reading of Mary Anne's will and testament." Kathy was completely appalled. "As Mrs. Martin, Mr. Musgrove and Dr. Cameron can tell you, I am but an acquaintance of Mrs. Sloan's. I was incidentally here as a guest when she had to be taken to hospital and tragically passed away But I'm nothing as close as to be included in" "I have a copy of the will right here. It was faxed to me by the executor, Mr. White, yesterday evening," Jesse continued in a businesslike manner. "And you areincluded."

Well, maybe the reason was not so non-apparent. When he looked at her, she felt he could see through her skin, her veins and her spine. The deepest eyes she had ever encountered. But, on second thoughts, she had once met a man who made her feel dizzy when he smiled. And in the end it had turned out that this "dizziness" was not a symptom of reciprocal true love but of her being way too romantic for real life. So she was not going to make the same mistakes again, permitting signs that eventually were not signs to overwhelm her and lead her to a sure and now still avoidable disappointment. She looked away from the brown eyes and focused on the other four people. They seemed relieved at his arrival, as if he had been expected and counted upon. But a couple of minutes later, Kathy hadn't yet been able to make out whether he was a relative or a very close acquaintance. The horning of the taxi she had called interrupted her wonderings.

"My taxi," she almost whispered, hoping to leave the house inadvertently. "Oh!" the doctor exclaimed. "Yes, we were leaving, isn't that right? Katherine must catch a plane and I have to go back to the hospital."

As Kathy descended the staircase, after saying goodbye to Mrs. Sloan's elder brother, Angus, and to Frances's daughter, she suddenly remembered what her hostess had told her at the hospital, just a couple of minutes before she died. "Meet Jesse." Right after that, she had suffered a second heart attack and that was all. The promising new friendship between M. A. Sloan and Kathy Schneider had ended then and there. If Jesse were someone Mrs. Sloan really, really wanted her to be introduced to, someone she cared for, shouldn't he be at the funeral? But he wasn't. Maybe the lady's last words hadn't been so meaningful. Maybe it was a trivial comment not intended to fill such a crucial moment - not intended to be taken as a last wish. "A last wish is something awfully important, is it not?" thought Kathy. "So why on Earth would she focus it on me? The truth is I've only known this woman for barely three weeks. Yes, we met and we instantly found ourselves to be kindred spirits, but friendships do need time to solidify, to prove themselves worthy of something as solemn as a last wish." Besides, the second heart attack had been so sudden and brief. How could Mrs. Sloan have been aware that the syllables she was about to pronounce would be the last ones ever? It wasn't likely. KATHY WASN'T SURE WHAT TO SAY, BUT SHE BEGAN TO FEEL very uncomfortable. The past month crossed her mind in photograms and it made her sick. Too many changes, far too many new things to assume in a short period of time. She couldn't. "I'm sorry," she answered, trying to sound reasonable. "I cannot afford to lose this flight. I will leave the doctor my address and phone number so I may be contacted if needed." Jesse looked as if he hadn't expected such an answer - maybe the refusal to stay, but not her assertive attitude. Kathy was sure it must have been Mrs. Sloan who had told him about her, and, as it seemed, she had painted the portrait of a weak-of-character woman. Well, to be honest, poor Mrs. Sloan wasn't that much to blame, since Kathy herself felt that way very often. Nevertheless, the idea of her beloved, greatly esteemed friend describing her in

such a manner to other people made the perfect remembrance of their time together somewhat bitter. The taxi horned again and, with no further delay, Kathy started her way back home after three weeks of absence - though it seemed she had been away a much longer time.

Some hours, a taxi, a plane and a car trip later, Kathy found herself in her parents' kitchen. Her kitchen to all effects, since her attempt of independence had ended a month before. "Your sister will be here tomorrow," said her mother. "They supposed you'd be too tired today and would prefer no visits." "Yes." Estelle watched her daughter sip the cup of hot milk. "Are you sure you don't want a muffin or anything?" "No, Mum. Thank you. I'm really not hungry." Kathy's mother, tactful as she was, needed more input than she was receiving. "I'm worried about you, honey. You look so sad. Were we wrong to let you go all alone? Has it been for the worse?" "Mum," Kathy said in a grave but kind tone. "I needed to get away from everything. Encouraging me to go was the best thing you could do. I know I'm so conscious of how hard it was for you not to come with me. But we all knew it was what I had to do. I felt so lost, so incapable of anything. When you suggested that I go on this trip, you can't imagine how much you helped me. Your trust gave me strength when I had none and I thank you for it." "But I was hoping you would come home in a better shape - though, of course, I understand that your friend's unexpected death is what's most pressing on you right now, is it not?" "Yes. She was very good to me and I'll never forget that. And, like you, she helped me recover some strength too. Oh, Mum, I was so lost, so depressed is the word. And I was also ashamed of feeling that way, because you and Dad were so patient and helping me so much But that - and please don't be angry with me for what I'm about to say - but that only depressed me even more, because it made me feel more guilty. Does it make any sense to you?"

"It does, Kathy. Nothing of what you've told me is a surprise to me. I understood how you felt and that's why, despite my anguish and fear these three weeks, I encouraged you to go so far away. And when you called and said you were travelling with Mrs. Sloan, whom you'd only known for a week, to her house, I encouraged you also, because you needed this adventure." Estelle hesitated, not sure whether it was wise to pursue further frankness. "Kathy, I think you're feeling guilty again, in the thought than I might be jealous of Mrs. Sloan. Is that so? "Yes," she answered with a slight hint of surprise. "Forgive my harsh openness, but I just wish to discharge you of as much suffering as I can. I never felt that, nor do I feel it now. I'm very, very happy that you found such a friend, and I only regret that you've had to endure her loss. You see, sometimes we need to hear from a stranger what our family is already telling us to really believe it. It's like when you've been taking the same pills for too long - they stop being effective and the doctor then prescribes a different medication." Kathy looked at her mother in admiration. In her thirty-one years of life she had been witness to her parents' insight many, many times. But just when she thought they understood her no more, it turned out they did. She smiled, and nothing else was needed between the two women. They both went to their bedrooms. It was not only Kathy who was exhausted. Estelle had the burden of many months watching her daughter become sadder every day, and hadn't had a good night's sleep in a long, long time. Maybe tonight Kathy's smile could make her heart rally enough. Kathy's father was already asleep. He had picked her from the airport, which was a twohour drive from their house. They hadn't spoken much - not out of crossness, it was simply the way her father was. Both he and her mother, each one in their own particular way, always tried to make her feel at ease. It would be different with her sisters tomorrow. SO WHEN JESSE CALLED THE FOLLOWING DAY, THE ONE THING SHE WAS glad of was being provided with an excuse for finally not having to see them. "Dr. Cameron gave me your number." "I imagine."

"We must meet." Why were the conversations with Jesse so like a chain of uncomfortable little telegrams? And not only on her part, she felt. "I think it would be enough if you gave me Mr.. White's? address. I could contact him directly." There was silence for a couple of seconds. Then Jesse spoke softly. "We don't have to be in his office until Tuesday, when the will is to be officially read and the paperwork settled. But, as I told you, I already know the terms of the testament." "And?" "Kathy, I'm in the street next to your house. Can we please talk face to face?" Now, that was unexpected. What was he doing here? He must have caught the next flight after hers. She put a different pair of trousers on and went to open the door. Luckily, there was no one at home, so she didn't have to explain. They went to a nearby cafeteria and ordered some breakfast. With an apricot jam toast in his left hand, he seemed to be suppressing a smile while he stirred his coffee. "You met Mrs. Sloan on the island," he began. "Yes, that's right." "How long were you there?" "A week. I met Mrs. Sloan on my second day and then we frequently had lunch or tea together. We got on well," she added in a way of an excuse. "And then she told me her holiday was over and invited me to spend a few weeks in her house, so I travelled with her." "I know that," said Jesse, after biting his toast. "She told me all about you." "Oh, she did?" Kathy was starting to experience the same sort of bitter feeling she had had at the funeral. "Yes. She phoned me a couple of times while you were in the house."

Kathy tasted the question that had been circling her head for the last two days. The flavor was not as confident as she would have liked. "And who are you, may I ask?" "What do you mean?" said Jesse in genuine surprise. "Well, I mean, are you her nephew, her friend, her boyfriend?" Jesse placed the cup he was holding on the saucer. "Mary Anne didn't tell you about me?" "Not exactly." Kathy took a sip of her orange juice. Her companion was almost done with his breakfast and she hadn't even started. Jesse was staring again, and she decided to take another sip, maybe a long drink, to give her time to think what she wanted to say. "I'm waiting," he pushed, chewing the last bite of his toast. "She did mention your name once, but nothing more." Jesse wiped his mouth with a napkin and drank some water. "I worked for her. I was her personal assistant - typed the manuscripts of her novels, went to the bank, to the post office, booked her plane tickets took care of most of the phone calls and things like that." "I see." "And she never told you about me," he sounded surprised and somewhat deceived. "It's strange." "Why so? Our friendship lasted but a couple of weeks." "Enough for you to be included in her will." Suddenly, it struck her. "That's why you're here. You don't think I deserve that gesture. Well, let me tell you something: I am as shocked as you are. I can only acknowledge that she was tremendously

thoughtful, generous and kind, but I have no intention of accepting her gift if that is going to cause a sense of unease in any of her relatives or friends." "I didn't expect to be included either, until she called me two weeks ago. In that phone call she informed me of her plans regarding you and me. That is why I'm here today. Only I thought she had given you some hint of her arrangements." Kathy waited for him to continue. He, by now, was sure she had no idea of what he was going to tell her. PARDON ME?" Jesse smiled. Now that he knew Kathy was informed of nothing, it was funny to see the shock in her face. "Mrs. Mary Anne Sloan established in a recent modification of her will and testament that we, Katherine Schneider and Jesse Tanner, would be heirs to all her properties on the island, which are Patty's Bed & Breakfast, the Pink Roses Hotel and a car she kept to move around on her visits there, two or three times a year." Kathy looked puzzled. "I'm sorry. I just can't find any sense in all this. Would Would you let me ask you a few questions to see if I finally understand? Because I haven't slept much and maybe I'm losing things here due to a lack of rest." Jesse shrugged. "Sure. Go ahead." "Ok. This first question may sound a bit rude, but remember it's for the sake of clarity. So that I can decide what to make out of the information you've already given me." He seemed relaxed. Not like a person who had something to hide. "No problem." "Why would she leave you - let's forget about me for a second - two such properties if you were only her employee?" "I worked for Mrs. Sloan for eight years. And you know how she was - she cared for the people who were around her and made them her family, when she thought them worthy."

"Kathy, did you like the island?" "Erm, of course, it's my favourite location in the world. That's why I went there in the first place." "I'm glad, because I was hoping we could go back together next week." The young woman's whole face was a big question mark. "We are going to inherit some real estate there." Kathy tried to rearrange the old and the new information in her head. "But I thought Mrs. Sloan was a tourist on the island, just like me. She was staying at a Bed & Breakfast." "Patty's Bed & Breakfast?" "Yes!" "Next to the Pink Roses Hotel?" "Yes! Exactly!" "We are to inherit both." "And she thought youworthy." "I guess." Kathy raised an eyebrow. Show-offs didn't win her heart. "Mary Anne was a shy person," he continued. "Maybe she didn't seem shy, but she was. And she didn't trust people easily. However, when, in time, she got to think someone was trustworthy, she gave her soul completely. That is what I was referring to. I suppose it was quite different with you. She must have felt comfortable since the very beginning." Were there traces of a sarcastic accusation in his words? "Was Mrs. Sloan uncomfortable with you at first?" asked Kathy, determined to read between the lines. Touch.

"Probably. But that's another story. Actually, a rather long story. Too long for a hasty breakfast." Kathy found herself scrutinizing his words again, but she soon decided it was a wasted effort. There, obviously, was more than he was telling, which made everything he said questionable. "Is her family aware of the terms of the will?" she asked, intending to lead the conversation into a more concrete and practical path. "They are. I showed them the copy before I came to talk to you." "Oh. So I guess they must be quite upset." "Not at all. Mrs. Sloan's eccentricities weren't new to them. Besides, they seemed greatly relieved that I was there to take care of things." "Yes. I got that impression when you arrived at the house." "And grateful to you." Kathy recalled Mrs. Martin's kind words. She stared at Jesse for a moment, not knowing what to say. "You are not buying it, are you?" he unexpectedly remarked. She didn't answer. "You would think they ought to be somewhat suspicious." They or himself? Both. "Yes," she replied frankly. "To say the least." Something in Jesse's face changed. As if a veil was being drawn back. "They may be on Tuesday," he said. "Why on Tuesday?" "I really don't think they know what the properties on the island refer to. What's more, I don't think they have the slightest idea of how much money their sister had." "What do you mean?"

"Mary Anne was always quite independent. She got married when she was nineteen, got a divorce, remarried at thirty-two and became a widow at thirty-eight." "I didn't know she had been married twice." "She didn't like to talk about her first marriage. The happiest years of her life were, according to her own words, the ones spent with her second husband, Mr. Frank Sloan. Anyway, she didn't start to write until she was in her forties. By then, her parents were dead and her brother and sister many miles away from her. They got on well, but they weren't very close - Christmas cards, infrequent phone calls and even rarer visits. And they were all, as far as I have been able to observe in these eight years, extremely reserved. During the time I worked for Mrs. Sloan, they came to the house twice and their conversations were always so polite and tactful. You could never accuse them of being anything near nosy, I assure you. I guess it's a family trait. Which makes me think that they really had no idea of Mrs. Sloan's career as a novelist. They knew she wrote, but not that she was making heaps of money with it." "Really?" The waiter came and took the remains of their breakfast. "You said you had come in regard to those properties on the island," said Kathy after they had asked for the bill. "What exactly do you need from me?" "I also said I was hoping we could go together next week." "Yes, but that doesn't answer the question." "Do you realize," asked Jesse when they were out on the street, "that you and I will be sort of partners?" "Yes," she answered calmly. A soft breeze brushed Kathy's hair and refreshed her forehead. She inhaled. Jesse noticed she looked a little pale. He remembered how Mrs. Sloan had described her: sensitive, fragile, too honest for her own good. "Are you feeling well?" he asked. "I have a slight headache." He tenderly lifted her chin with two fingers. "Not so slight, I think."

"It's getting worse by the minute," she admitted. "This is what we'll do. We will walk back to your house and you'll be free from me for the rest of the day. I'll call you again tomorrow and we will decide what to do. All right?" She agreed. Twenty minutes later she was lying on the sofa after taking an aspirin and commenting the encounter with her parents, who, like her, didn't know what to think of the matter. Her sisters had come to visit while she was out, but they couldn't wait for her to come back. They would see her some other day. JESSE PHONED THE FOLLOWING MORNING. KATHY HAD HER ANSWER ready. She hadn't slept much, but she had finally decided to call Mr. White first, and if Mrs. Sloan's appointed executor confirmed what Jesse had told her she would travel with him. "So you don't think that he wants to sell the properties," had asked her mother, who, as was the usual thing when Kathy was restless, hadn't slept much either. It was hard to say, but Jessehad mentioned the word partners and would not probably have taken so much trouble, travelling so far to see her, if he didn't want to keep them. He found her condition reasonable and gave her the number. A short while later, Kathy called back. She felt much more convinced after speaking with Mr. White that she had a good motive for going back to the island. *** They caught a plane on Monday and arrived in the city where Kathy had been with Mrs. Sloan for two weeks. The late lady's family insisted they stayed with them in their sister's house, and, at first, they refused, but in the end, interpreting the gesture as a signal that the family wanted to be on good terms with them, they accepted. Nevertheless, when Kathy found herself back in the same bedroom she'd left but a few days before, she felt she couldn't bear it. "What's the matter?" asked Jesse when he opened his door and found Kathy in the corridor. "This is wrong," she said. "I shouldn't be here." He stared at her like the day they'd met. His eyes as intense, though noticeably more trusting. "We should have swopped bedrooms. I don't feel too comfortable myself either. So many memories to deal with, plus the responsibility of the inheritance and the uncertainty regarding the family's apparent welcome."

"I didn't expect you to understand so fast," said Kathy, glad but astonished. Then she heard another door being opened somewhere near and, with an unthinking movement, she jumped into Jesse's room and onto Jesse's foot. "Come in," he said ironically after closing the door. "I'm sorry. I heard a noise and" He was looking at her, sort of smiling, and Kathy felt embarrassed and comfortable at the same time, which was dangerous, for she had felt that way twice in her life before and knew what it meant. But the comfort didn't show on her face, only the anguish that arose every time she was presented with a new difficult situation. It was so transparent. She was so transparent. It was a long time since Jesse had met someone like her. Had he ever? Every minute spent with her made it clearer to him why Mrs. Sloan had so swiftly felt attached to this concerned young woman. "Everything will seem better in the morning," he said, readjusting his lips and eyes into a serious pose. "I don't think I will be able to sleep at all," answered Kathy in an uncontrollable burst of sincerity. "You can borrow my shoulder. It was pretty effective on the plane." "I fell asleep on your shoulder?" "For about a quarter of an hour," Jesse said casually. "I don't remember," she almost whispered. The doorbell rang. In a few seconds someone answered it and the loud happy barks of a dog were heard coming from downstairs. "I've got an idea," Jesse told Kathy with the widest smile she had hitherto seen on his face. "Come with me, please." He opened the door, walked along the corridor and descended the staircase. Kathy followed, not before she made sure she wasn't seen coming out of Jesse's bedroom. Things were sufficiently complicated already. There was a man in the hall, about Jesse's age, holding the chain of an excited brown cocker. Frances Martin's daughter, Geneva, who had answered the door, was patting its head.

"Hi, Jesse! Sorry for coming so late. I left the office just an hour ago," said the man. "No worries. Thank you so much for taking care of Mac, Tom. Come here, boy!" Jesse greeted the joyful animal. Kathy watched the scene a few steps away. She felt a strange vibration. A pleasant one. Like she was being witness to the beginning of something good, and for that reason would keep this image fresh in her mind always. "Tom, you know Geneva." "Yes, we met the other day. How are you?" The young woman answered with a glowing smile. "Great." Jesse then turned looking for Kathy. "I want you to meet Katherine Schneider," he told his friend, taking Kathy's hand to invite her forward. "Oh, Kathy!" exclaimed Tom, as if that name had rung a bell. He shook hands with her. "Delighted to meet you." "Nice to meet you, too," she answered, a little annoyed by the ascertained fact that in the last few days she always seemed to be missing something. Tom left straight away. It was getting late and he had to be at work early the next morning. Jesse told Geneva and Kathy that he was worried about his friend - lively and vigorous as he was, working to excess was beginning to affect his health, though he would never admit it. He worked as a publicist and took his career very seriously. Not only that - he was always ready for a tennis match, to pick somebody at the airport, to work extra hours He just couldn't say "no". Jesse had met him two years after he had begun to work for Mrs. Sloan. And this last year and a half that Jesse had his dog, Mac, Tom had offered to take care of him every time his owner had to travel. "I feel so guilty," confessed Jesse. "I left Mac at his house when I went away on my twoweek holiday and, with one thing and another, three weeks have gone by. I'm not a very good friend if I make him spend the little free time he has taking care of my dog." "He seemed pretty satisfied with the task," said Geneva politely. "He always does. That's the problem."

Geneva smiled. Her round face and tiny eyes were almost new to Kathy. She had only seen her brief moments during the two days of Mrs. Sloan's funeral and they had never talked. Suddenly, Geneva's eyes, which were looking absorbed at Jesse, turned to her. "Katherine, would you come with me to the library for a minute? I'd really like to talk to you about something," she said. "Sure," answered Kathy in complete surprise. Then she looked at Jesse out of the corner of her eye, as if seeking an adjournment of their unfinished conversation. "I'll take Mac upstairs," was all he said, nodding slightly. MRS. SLOAN'S LIBRARY WAS CHARMING. IN THE LIGHT OF THREE strategically placed standard lamps, the neat bookcases looked precious and inviting.

In spite of Kathy's readiness to perceive it, there was no trace of resentment in the young woman's words. Quite on the contrary, her tone of voice seemed to imply that she understood and agreed with the way her aunt had arranged things. "I am extremely grateful to my aunt," she added as if sweeping away the doubts that might still remain. "We didn't visit that often - about once a year when I was a kid, more rarely as an adult -, but she was always nice to me. Oh, and some time ago I read one of her books and wrote to her saying that I'd really enjoyed it. I felt silly when I posted the letter, because I'd never written to her before and the last times my mother had travelled to visit, I hadn't come with her. So I thought it would seem strange, suddenly receiving a note from me - out of place. But she wrote back. And it was a wonderful letter, where she thanked my praise and told me about the book she was preparing. It was as if we'd suddenly established a connection, you know?" "I never told my mum about it," she continued after a long pause. "She never gave any credit to my aunt's writing, so it was a topic they didn't usually mention in their conversations. I didn't want to upset either of them."

They sat in the cream-colored armchairs. Geneva adopted such a formal position that Kathy was automatically reunited with the sense of unease, which had not really abandoned her, despite the warmth of the canine scene in the hall. "I want to talk business with you, Katherine."

"Business?" "Yes. Uhm I've seen We've all seen Jesse's copy of my aunt's will. It's kind of awkward, don't you think? I'm not even sure that's legal. But Jesse said the notary had strict orders from my aunt that, if the worst should happen, he was to send him that information by fax." Kathy decided she was now presented with a fine opportunity to tie up some loose ends. "And do you have any idea why? Why she would wish to deliver the contents of her last will and testament before the actual reading at the notary's office?" "Because of you," answered Geneva in a matter-of-fact tone. That was the answer all the chain of improbable events regarding this matter had led her to expect. "I was afraid you would say that." "My aunt knew Jesse would have to convince you to be here. She must have felt it would be easier if he could show you proof that you had a right to." She looked at Geneva again. Some seconds ticked away on a clock in a different room. She had to say something, but nothing sounded just right. Once more she felt she didn't belong in this picture. In this house this very moment. "You must be awfully tired." It was Geneva who spoke. "After a long flight And I'm depriving you of a good night's sleep with my chatter. We can talk tomorrow, can't we?" The apparent lighthearted end she wished to confer on their conversation made Kathy aware that the pain of tears she was feeling in her eyes was visible - and shared by Geneva. Neither of them felt like discussing material matters anymore. "I figured you might leave early tomorrow and I wanted to talk to you in person, not on the phone," said Mrs. Sloan's niece by way of explanation. "I still haven't made up my mind when or where to I will be leaving," answered Kathy standing up. They both walked to the door. "As I said before," spoke Geneva again. "I'm grateful and honored having been left the royalties of my aunt's works. I mean, I know it was the logical thing to do, since my aunt

had no children of her own. But there are two other nephews, my brother and cousin Roy, to whom she left money and this house respectively. I truly believe she put me in charge of her most precious possession, besides those on the island, which makes me feel I have the duty to somehow contribute to preserve what she so hardworkingly and lovingly achieved." "That, summing up," she continued after a pause, "is why I am persuaded that investing in your hotels is what Aunt Mary would want me to do." "Your aunt would want your life to be made easier, insofar as it were possible, thanks to that income, of that I'm sure." "Well, yes. But both ideas aren't incompatible." Kathy smiled. This woman was too worried about doing her own duty to be conspiring against Jesse and her.

When she opened the door of her guest room, she found a note on the floor. I don't feel like sleeping in my room either. Come and we'll swop. Don't mind the hour; we'll be waiting. "We?" She chose an outfit for the following morning, her toilet kit and pyjamas, and she stepped again into the corridor. Suddenly she recalled her years at the university hall of residence, when the murmur of the people sharing their daily anecdotes and getting ready to sleep filled the late part of the evenings. At that hour, there was always someone going into or out of a room. "Everything okay downstairs?" It was Jesse, opening up before she had the chance to knock. The dog looked at her and barked twice. "Behave, Mac! You're gonna be roommates." "Are we?" asked Kathy, not sure whether it was completely safe to enter the animal's domains. "Yeah! Come in!" Jesse's behavior had changed, Kathy thought, since the day they'd met, not that long ago towards her, at least. And, though the change was so clearly for the better, the amount of sincerity behind this gradual but swift fondness was yet to be ascertained. "I see you've brought your things. I have mine ready And, most important Mac is here! You'll fall asleep to the sound of his snores and you won't think about anything else, I guarantee."

From the man's big smile, she transferred her attention to the dog, who had begun to wag his tail at the sound of his name. "Thank you, Jesse. But are you sure he won't mind? Maybe you should take him with you." "No. Mac'll keep you company. He's really friendly. You're not afraid of dogs, are you?" "No, no." "I hadn't thought so. You'll be fine - both of you. And I'll be six steps away," he said grabbing his things. "In case you need me." "Thanks." "Good night, then." "Good night. Oh, what time are we due at the notary's office tomorrow?" "At half past ten. We can meet at nine for breakfast. I know a place where they make great muffins, not far from here." It sounded nice to Kathy, but she didn't want to be rude to a family that had saved them the expense of a hotel. "Are we not going all together to the office? That is, with Mrs. Martin, Mr. Musgrove and Geneva." Jesse hesitated before answering. "They are not here. I meant to arrange things with Mr. Musgrove for tomorrow, but it seems he and his sister went out a short while after our arrival. And they haven't returned yet. Tom said he'd passed them when coming." Kathy's look needed no words. "It's weird, I know." "I wouldn't say weird," she qualified. "But it is at least suspicious." Jesse shrugged and exhaled. "So I guess we better make our own plans," he said. "And if we bump into them tomorrow morning, we can always ask them to join us for breakfast."

It appeared to be the most appropriate thing to do, so they installed themselves in their swopped guest bedrooms, waiting for the new day to clear things up.