If the Shoe Fits (18 page)

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Authors: Amber T. Smith

BOOK: If the Shoe Fits
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“Nice apron,” drawled Eleanor.

“Thank you, sweetie. Ann Summers had a special on last month. Now, come in, and tell me why you look like you've swallowed a dozen lemons.”

Eleanor allowed herself to be kissed on both cheeks as she entered the house, closing the door behind her and leaning against it heavily.

“Do you want the short version or the long version?” she asked.

“Um, short?”

“Currently my life sucks.”

“Right,” said Danny. “Perhaps I'd better have the long version after all.”

“Is Jake back? I need both of you right now.”

“He's hyperventilating in the bathroom. Actually, I'm glad you're here because I haven't been able to persuade him to come out of there for the last three hours.”

Danny made Eleanor sit down on one of the black squishy leather sofas that adorned the living room, and went upstairs to tell his boyfriend that he was needed. Eleanor heard her friends' muffled voices and tapped her fingers impatiently on the arm of the sofa. Several minutes later, Danny appeared — sporting a rather a wet apron — with a disgruntled-looking Jake a few footsteps behind.

“I'm not talking to you,” growled her immediate boss.

“I don't know what happened yesterday, Jake, but I really do have a serious problem here, so can you forgive me for whatever it is I am supposed to have done? I swear you can go back to not speaking to me tomorrow.”

Jake pouted, in that way that only gay men can, and sat down. Eleanor took this to mean that he agreed, and if he didn't, well, tough.

“Christie has kidnapped my dad for whatever nefarious reason she has, my cat is trawling the town center and could be run over by one of Cardiff's insane taxi drivers at any given second, I think I've split the stitches on my foot, and I've accidentally stood up Max Charming.”

Danny removed his rubber gloves, perhaps realizing that the dishes would have to wait, and sat down next to Jake.

“I really need you guys at the moment,” said Eleanor beseechingly.

“Okay, I'll forget that I'm not speaking to you for the moment,” conceded Jake.

“Thank you!”

“Even though I spent the all of yesterday, and most of today in spider-infested cupboards,” he added darkly.

“Jake!”

“All right, all right!”

“I don't know what to do! Christie wants money, and I don't know how far she will go to get it. I mean, you know what my dad's like; he'd fall for any old sob-story.”

“First things first, Danny, get some warm water and the first aid kit. You can look at Ella's foot while we discuss what we need to do about the other stuff.”

“Why does it have to be
me
that looks at Ella's foot?” protested Danny, though he got up and did what he was asked.

“Ella,” said Jake quietly. “Despite the fact that I'm currently not talking to you, you're still one of my favorite people in the world. You know that, right? But I don't do feet. Sorry.”

“That's all right,” said Eleanor. “I completely understand.”

“Now, the way I see it, you have four problems. Danny's going to take care of one of them, and another is out of our hands.”

“You mean standing Max up?” asked Eleanor.

“No, I mean the cat, idiot. I have no control over felines, and have no wish to have control over them. Besides, your cat gives me the creeps.”

“Oh.”

Danny returned, began tending Eleanor's foot, and offered a quick “I agree” at Jake's words.

“I don't see how we can do anything about the Max problem, either,” said Jake. “At least, not until tomorrow at any rate.”

“Okay,” sighed Eleanor. “I suppose you're right.”

“When tomorrow comes, you can speak to him and explain what happened. And in the spirit of helping out a friend, you can put in a good word for me, too. And maybe find out why he's after me.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes, while Danny swatted Jake playfully.

“Now, the Christie problem we
can
help with,” said Jake happily.

“You can?”

“Yes, definitely. I have friends all over the city, you know that. Especially in the media. It's just a question of speaking to the right person. If she's gone on leave, the TV studio will know. They'll need a replacement for her for the weather reports. She'll have to have told someone where she was going. All studio contracts these days require contact details for when you take leave.”

“Will they give that sort of information out?” asked Eleanor doubtfully.

“As I say, it's only a question of knowing the right person,” winked Jake. “Give me half an hour.”

• • •

Jake was as good as his word, because a little over thirty minutes later, he had news. The trouble was, it didn't look good. Eleanor was just starting to feel a little better now that Danny had re-bandaged her foot, but as soon as she saw Jake's face she knew something bad had happened.

“What is it? Is my dad okay?”

“Your dad's fine,” said Jake quickly, noticing Eleanor's pale face. “At least, he's not hurt or anything. He's, well, he's … ”

“For Christ's sake, Jake, spit it out!”

“ChristiestakenhimtoGretnaGreen,” he rushed out.

“What?”

“Say that again!”

Jake looked from Danny to Eleanor, and back again.

“I said Christie's taken him to Gretna Green.”

“But, but … but … ”

“Eleanor, take a breath.”

Eleanor opened and closed her mouth a few times, spluttering several more ‘buts' out as she did so. She shook her head, silently asking for more information.

“She's been planning to remarry your dad for the last few months. At least, that's what Geraldine said.”

“Who's Geraldine?” asked Eleanor, confused.

“She's the friend of my friend's cousin's friend, I think,” said Jake. “Though it could be the friend of my cousin's friend's cousin. Something like that. It's a bit confusing, actually.”

Eleanor and Danny now looked even more puzzled.

“Look, it doesn't matter how I know, but this Geraldine, whoever's cousin she is, is Christie's make-up woman.”

“I don't envy her,” said Danny, shuddering. “I bet she needs at least three hours to make that woman look human.”

“Thank you, Danny,” said Jake, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, she does Christie's make-up, and therefore is privy to all sorts of gossip. She said that Christie had been making a lot of phone calls to her solicitor in the last couple of months. All very hush-hush, but Geraldine managed to hear a few of the conversations, especially the ones when Christie lost her temper.”

“I can believe that. People in Australia could probably hear Christie when she's in a rage,” said Eleanor.

“Anyway, the grapevine says that Christie was getting more and more agitated in the last two weeks, and the phone calls happened more often, and were more, um, vocal.”

“Bloody hell,” said Eleanor. “I knew she was up to something! I just
knew
it!”

“Let's not start to panic,” said Jake calmly. “It's not over until the fat lady sings, and all that.”

“We don't know any fat women,” said Danny.

“You know what I mean,” snapped Jake.

“Ooh, yes,” drawled Danny, “I can see you're very calm.”

Jake glared at his partner pointedly and Danny quickly went quiet.

“I don't see how anyone can be calm!” cried Eleanor. “My dad's about to marry the frigging Wicked Witch of the West!
Again!

“Teddy's a sensible feller,” said Jake reasonably. “I mean, he won't make the same mistake twice now, will he?”

Eleanor raised an eyebrow.

“I'm sure he's learned his lesson,” added Danny.

Eleanor raised her other eyebrow.

“He wouldn't be so silly as to fall in with her plans, Ella,” said Jake.

Eleanor, who had run out of eyebrows to raise, put her hands on her hips and tilted her head.

“She's right,” said Danny. “Teddy's a lovely man, but that's his problem. He's too bloody nice for his own good. Agatha will have sweet-talked him before they reach Swansea. By the time they hit Gretna Green, he'll be baited, hooked and caught.”

“Okay, maybe you're right,” said Jake grudgingly. “But the point is, the wedding's not booked until ten o'clock tomorrow morning. It's what, ten, maybe twelve hours to Gretna? If we leave right away, we can get there and stop it from going ahead.”

Fifteen minutes later, Eleanor was bundled into the back of Jake's car, along with a hastily packed picnic hamper that Danny had thrown together in five minutes flat, while Jake jumped into the driver's seat and threw a map at Danny.

“You're navigating,” he said shortly. “And for God's sake, Danny, make sure you read the map properly or we'll end up in Inverness or something.”

They were nearing Cardiff Bay when Eleanor screamed loud enough to make Danny squeal, and Jake brake far too quickly.

“What the hell?”

“It's Muse! Look, she's just turned into the side street. Danny, quick! Go get her!”

“Sweetie, you know how I've sworn never to handle a pussy.”

“Danny!”

“All right, all right! Jeez, just trying to lighten the atmosphere.”

“Just get my cat, or I'll force feed you the gherkins,” warned Eleanor.

Danny got out of the car while Jake looked at Eleanor with something close to horror.

“He packed gherkins?”

“Yup,” said Eleanor, peering into the basket. “He also packed three tubs of pâté, a French baguette, a few apples and bananas, two bottles of wine, six bottles of water, a fruitcake, and … oh, three Toblerones.”

Jake looked like he wasn't sure whether he should laugh or not. He settled for shrugging his shoulders.

“Well, he
was
a bit rushed,” conceded Eleanor.

“Meeeooowww!”

“Muse!” cried Eleanor happily, as a disgruntled-looking Danny shoved the cat in her face. “I'm so glad I saw you!”

Danny muttered something about crazy cats as he got back into the car and picked up the map again. Jake patted his knee in sympathy and started the engine.

“Where are The Ugly Sisters taking us?” asked Muse loudly.

The car stopped about three seconds after it had started.

“Fuck me!” said Jake. “The cat
can
talk!”

“Now I know where you get your bad language habits from,” remarked Muse.

Chapter Eleven

It was a full ten minutes before Jake overcome his shock enough to be able to drive again. Fortunately Danny wasn't at the wheel, because he was taking considerably longer to adjust to the fact that Eleanor had a talking cat.

“I told you I wasn't nuts,” said Eleanor for perhaps the fifth time in as many minutes.

“But how is it even possible?” squeaked Danny, who had opened a bottle of wine and was taking large gulps in between talking. Thankfully, he'd had the foresight to pack screw-topped wine bottles.

“How the hell should I know,” shrugged Eleanor. “I've given up trying to work
that
out. I just go with the flow.”

“Where are we going, anyway?” asked Muse.

Danny looked at Eleanor.

“I'm
not
speaking to a cat,” he said faintly.

“Not speaking to her won't make her not speak to you, you know,” said Eleanor dryly.

“I don't care. This is just too weird.”

“We're going to Scotland, Muse,” said Eleanor, rolling her eyes at Danny.

Eleanor filled Muse in on the latest developments while Danny finished off the bottle of wine. Jake, after his initial shock, was driving normally, as if he didn't have a talking cat sitting on the back seat of his car.

“There's refreshments in the picnic hamper,” he said over his shoulder, apparently under the impression that if he acted normally, the strangeness of the situation would go away.

“I can't say I've ever been keen on gherkins, but thank you,” said Muse gracefully.

“Even the cat doesn't like gherkins, Danny Boy,” chuckled Jake.

“Enough with the gherkins,” grumbled Danny. “I just threw in whatever was at hand, okay?”

“That, my love, is part of the problem. Gherkins shouldn't be at hand unless you are living in the seventies, or have a pregnant female in residence,” said Jake seriously.

“Oh shut up.”

Eleanor opened a tub of pâté for Muse to nibble on, and when it was empty, poured some water into the container. Muse lapped at it for a few moments and then curled up to have a nap. Deciding that the cat had the right idea, she left Jake and Danny to their bickering and closed her eyes. She needed to get some sleep if she was to be in fighting mode by the time they reached Gretna Green.

• • •

Eleanor awoke to the sounds of a heated argument between her two best friends. It was pitch black outside and they were driving along the motorway during a particularly heavy downpour.

“I
told
you to take the last exit!” said Danny.

“You said the next one!”

“Yes, but that was
before
we passed it! Ergo, I meant the last one!”

“Don't you ‘ergo' me, it's not my fault if you can't bloody read a map!”

“Do you want to take over the map, then?” hissed Danny.

“Don't be stupid, you've drunk an entire bottle of Chardonnay, you can't drive,” said Jake angrily. “In fact, the bloody Chardonnay is probably why you can't read the bloody map properly!”

Eleanor peeked at her watch and saw that it was a little after two in the morning. She groaned and moved her head, trying to remove the crick in her neck.

“Are they always like this?” whispered Muse, crawling on Eleanor's lap.

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