I asked Ana Maria what time her flight was and if there was anything I could do to help her prepare. Turns out, the odd feeling I had yesterday was not unfounded. She's confessed that she doesn’t own the house she’s asked me to look after while she travels, and she isn’t even Spanish; she’s Maltese. She’s rented the house long term, paying a lump sum in advance, and then decided she doesn’t want to be here. Blanche, her cat, makes further travel difficult for her, so she wants me to look after the cat while she heads to Abu Dhabi and the Seychelles.
The problem? She didn’t clear this with Miguel, her landlord, before her trip, or before having me fly over. She’s invited him to lunch with us today so we can meet. I’m good at first impressions, so I’m not worried about the lunch, but the circumstances are bizarre. Further complicating matters, she hasn’t bought her plane ticket yet, presumably foreseeing there may be an issue. So she’s covered her own ass and left mine hanging in the wind.
