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slowly towards the kitchen, walking as if each step was an effort. ‘White or red?’
    â€˜White, please.’
    â€˜Good. That’s what I like too.’ He poured two generous glasses of wine and held one out to her. ‘Potato crisps?’
    â€˜Why not?’
    â€˜I’ve given up eating healthily. I love salt and vinegar crisps.’
    â€˜They’re my favourites too.’
    He tipped a huge packet into a bowl and let her carry it and the wine across to the low table, while he followed her slowly and jerkily. Sitting down, he leaned forward to clink his glass against hers. ‘To hell with bossy relatives!’
    â€˜To hell with them all!’
    It wasn’t till they’d broached their second bottle that he asked, ‘What
are
you going to do, Miranda?’
    The words came out slightly blurred, because she didn’t usually go beyond one or two glasses. ‘I haven’t the faintest idea. I wish I had.’
    He opened his mouth, hesitated, then said, ‘I’ve got an idea. Only you might not like it.’
    â€˜Try me.’
    â€˜I know you’ve probably had your fill of playing Flo Nightingale, but how about helping me slay my current dragon, by which I mean my damned niece?’
    â€˜Why is she a dragon?’
    â€˜She’s threatening all sorts of things for later, like putting me into a hospice. I won’t do that, Miranda, not under any circumstances. I have my own plans in place for the end. She’s keeping an eye on me, not because we get on well, but because she’s my only close relative now and she wants to make sure she inherits.’
    â€˜And will she? Inherit, I mean.’
    â€˜I’ll leave her something because she really has helped me, I’ll grant her that. Only . . . I’d like to fly a bit before the wax melts and I drop down to earth again.’
    â€˜Icarus.’ Only it came out ‘Icarush’, which made her giggle. ‘Oh dear, I’m tiddly.’
    â€˜Do you good.’
    She took another slurp of the crisp, expensive wine, then realized he’d not finished explaining. ‘How can
I
help you slay your dragon?’
    â€˜Come and live with me. Help me find a house I can move into quickly – and move into it with me. I don’t need you to care for me physically. As I said before, I have a carer come in daily and I’ll get one full-time when I have somewhere to put him.’
    She frowned, trying to work this out. ‘Why do you need me then?’
    â€˜Because . . . I can hire as much help as I like, but I want some congenial company in my final months. And you’re fun to be with, easy to talk to, well educated.’
    She blinked at him, wondering if she’d heard correctly. ‘Am I?’
    â€˜Yes. And don’t let anyone tell you differently.’
    â€˜You want me to move in with you?’
    â€˜Yes. And then I want us to have as much fun as possible. You’ll help me do that, won’t you? My niece won’t. She’d like to clear all the wine out of my fridge and fill it with medicines and bland, nourishing food.’
    â€˜But . . .’ Only Miranda couldn’t think of any reason not to do as he was suggesting, because she did like him. And surely anything would be better than staying under Sebastian’s control? Anything.
    Lou lifted his glass and winked at her. ‘Go on. Take a risk. I’ll pay you a decent wage. You can save it and then you’ll have some money behind you that Sebastian won’t be able to touch. And getting away from him will give you some thinking time about the rest of your life.’
    â€˜All right. I’ll do it.’ She couldn’t believe she’d said that without thinking it over and opened her mouth to say it was a mistake. But the retraction wouldn’t come out because she didn’t want to reject such a good offer. Instead she found herself asking, ‘What about my