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went over.
    â€˜It had been such a good party, too, until that happened. I mean, the building is fabulous, and I can see why Roy thought it would be a good investment. Only now he’s so determined to have his own way and won’t see sense, saying what do I know about it because I’ve never had to handle big sums, and of course that’s true because my first husband did it all, and now Kate. I think he’s made verbal promises, maybe even signed something, and I believe he knows he’s being stupid, but won’t admit it.’
    â€˜Just like a man.’
    â€˜I asked Kate if she could help. She said she’d tried to steer some City money into the project ages ago, after Miss Quicke had said she wasn’t interested in it, but she stopped when Roy told her he could fund it himself. She says it’s unlikely Roy will get a mortgage on reasonable terms for his flats at present, and if he does try to sell them he’s likely to lose on the deal.’ She took a deep breath. ‘You aren’t bothered by my silly notions about a jinx, are you? So would you get your Trust to consider buying into Prior’s Place, to keep things moving in the right direction?’
    Ellie had seen this coming, and didn’t like the sound of it. Her Trust fund was meant for charitable purposes, not to bail out rash relatives. Besides, the other members of the Trust would never agree to such a scheme. ‘What does Kate advise?’
    â€˜She says I can’t raise enough to help Roy out at the moment without selling shares at a huge loss, and selling my shares would reduce my income drastically. I mean, I will if all else fails, but . . . you see the problem?’
    â€˜Don’t sell,’ advised Ellie. ‘Not yet, anyway. I’ll have a word with Kate and with the other members of the Trust to see what can be done, but I can’t promise anything.’
    â€˜Bless you. If only that young man hadn’t thought he could fly! I’m sure the flats would be selling if he hadn’t.’
    Ellie asked Felicity to ring for a cab for her. It was still raining, she had shopping bags to carry, and it was just that bit further to her ‘old’ house, than to the ‘new’. Or rather, her own ‘old’ house – the one in which she and her first husband had lived for so many years – had been built in the 1920s, long after the Edwardian grandeur of the Quicke family house in which she was now living, but the words ‘new’ and ‘old’ didn’t always mean exactly what you intended to say, did they?
    She was grateful that at least Felicity owned her own house outright, which was a blessing in view of Roy’s imprudent financial dealings. Theirs had been a love match and remained one. The marriage was solid, and it was only Roy’s flights of fancy that cast an uncertain glow over their future. How could Roy’s finances be saved? And how could he be persuaded never to risk his capital again in future?
    Miss Quicke had managed to keep him on an even keel by backing one or two of his enterprises with her own money, and refusing to consider others. At her death he’d been left without a guiding hand, and look at the result! It was a puzzle, and Ellie had no idea how to solve it.
    Well, there was one other little job she could manage before she went home. When her cab came, she asked the driver to take the road past the library at the end of the Avenue, and slow down when they came to the first low block of flats. Had Mrs Collins described Ursula’s flat correctly? The sooner Ellie got rid of the ring, the better. She asked the driver to wait while she stumbled through the rain to the first of the communal doors, and checked the names on the intercom system. Yes, there was the name Belton. She rang the bell but there was no reply. Mrs Belton must be out, at work, shopping, whatever. She was on the point of returning to the