Meyer-Hofmann AG

16

Time flew by for the Jarvises. Heggerty IT wished Michael well, and PricewaterhouseCoopers made Lisa promises of partnerships and promotions. Meyer-Hofmann kept a subtle distance, helping with the removal of furniture, but otherwise letting them get on with it. They decided to rent out the property in Guiseley rather than selling it.

“It gives us options should we need them,” Michael had explained.

They had both attended the EITA awards ceremony in London. Michael received the award for innovation, to much praise and adulation. The solid silver miniature laptop would decorate a cupboard in their new Munich home, and the cheque for 10.000 pounds would help to furnish it. The distinction would provide him with job opportunities for the rest of his career. They left the event revitalised and inspired. Michael had experienced no recurrence of the migraine, nor the memory loss. The pair were optimistic and excited about their future in a foreign land.

It was the first Saturday in February when they moved to Munich. The plan was to take two weeks before starting work, to set up home and tackle German bureaucracy. As they stood in the furnished penthouse flat overlooking the Olympic Park in central Munich, Lisa smiled to herself.

It looks a lot better than when I viewed it the first time, she thought.

The open-plan flat was tastefully decorated with hardwood floors and modern appliances. The panorama windows allowed them a view of the Olympic Tower, which stood at the centre of the park. But this was not her dream home. It had no soul—it was too modern and clean for her tastes. That had been the pull of their house in Guiseley, probably only a third of the price of this property, but it had a warm, inviting quality about it that was missing here. Michael could tell immediately that she hated it.

“It’s only a stopgap solution, darling. We can start looking for our own place whenever you like.”

He had read her like a book, and she gave him a kiss on the cheek, along with a mischievous giggle.

“I think we need a detached house this time, darling, somewhere with some privacy, like Greg and Joyce’s.”

Greg was his old boss at Heggerty. He had bought a mansion just outside of Leeds, in the village of Linton. It was a movie star-type house, set in four acres of perfectly manicured gardens, opposite Wetherby Golf Club. Michael had never understood why a couple without children needed seven bedrooms.

The conversation didn’t change on their way to the club. They had been invited for lunch by Reichard, and Lisa was still debating the merits of on suite bathrooms with Michael when they sat down at the table.

“I take it you are happy with the flat we found for you?” Reichard asked expectantly.

Lisa saw the opportunity and took it.

“No, it’s horrible. Don’t you have a nice bungalow, somewhere quiet for us, Herr Reichard?” A subtle flutter of her eyelids accompanied the question.

Reichard smiled at her and reached over to pat her knee. Many men had been slapped for less, but Lisa let it go with a sideward glance in Michael’s direction. Three waiters arrived at the table simultaneously. A large bowl of salad was placed in the middle, and a freshly grilled halibut put in front of them. The head waiter poured them each a glass of sparkling water, then waited for consent from Reichard to serve the 2004 Grün Burgunder.

“I hope it is okay, but I ordered for us all. The fish here is remarkably good.”

“That’s fine,” said Lisa, slowly rolling the white wine around her glass, before testing its nose and taking a small sip to taste. “Ooh, the wine is very good! You must try it, Michael!”

Michael followed her guide and smiled in agreement.

“Very good.”

“There are very many fine German wines you will both have to try, and I am sure we can find you a fine German property as well. In fact, now that I think of it, there is a property in Starnberg that will soon be available. It belongs to a partner of ours, Fredrik Petersen. He is recently separated and is looking to downsize.”

“Starnberg, I’ve heard of that. Isn’t that the big lake where the Bavarian King drowned?”

“Indeed it is. You are very well-informed, Mrs Jarvis. King Ludwig II drowned mysteriously, whilst being held at Castle Berg. Starnberg is one of the most beautiful lakes in Bavaria. The German aristocracy have been going there for centuries. I have a holiday home there.”

“Wow, how wonderful. What was mysterious about his death?”

“King Ludwig had been spending money like it was going out of fashion, building castles and monuments all over Bavaria, and the politicians were scared he would bankrupt the local country. They locked him up, saying he was mad, and then he was found, together with his physician, drowned in waist-high water, near the castle.”

“They were both dead? Had they had a fight?” Lisa loved a good mystery.

“The doctor did have some injuries, to his head and shoulders I believe, but Ludwig had no visible injuries. It remains a mystery as to what happened. King Ludwig is probably solely responsible for the tourist industry in Bavaria. There are some wonderful places to visit. Surely you have heard of Schloss Neuschwanstein? It is the Castle Walt Disney copied.”

“Oh, gosh, yes. Is that close to here?”

“About an hour’s drive.”

“Ooh, Michael, we must see it!”

“Yes, darling, of course. Tell me, Herr Reichard, is Petersen selling or renting?”

“Selling. I think he wants about one point five for the house.”

“Million?”

”Yes, but on the money we are paying you, that shouldn’t be a problem, Michael.”

Michael wasn’t convinced—what if the job fell through or he didn’t like it? Despite the look on his face, Lisa surged ahead.

“When can we see it?”

“Just a moment.”

Reinhardt reached into his pocket and took out his mobile, hitting a speed dial number. Petersen answered immediately. There was a quick exchange, and then Reichard once again turned to Lisa.

“Is this afternoon too soon?”