Miranda's Mount (22 page)

‘Lady St Merryn just phoned the office. There’s an important call for you, Lord St Merryn.’

‘Can’t it wait?’

‘Her
ladyship says not. She told them you’d call back immediately. Do you want to phone from the office?’

Jago frowned and hesitated. ‘No. I’ll go back up to the castle. Thanks.’ He ruffled Braden’s hair as Louise took him and strapped the sleepy boy into his pushchair.

‘I’m afraid we have to go to catch the boat, it’s the last one of the day,’ said Miranda, wondering if the call was from Southcastle.

Jago smiled. ‘Goodbye then, Braden and Louise. Come back and visit any time you like.’

‘We’d love to. I know Braden would.’ Louse looked so delighted that Miranda felt almost guilty. It was their harbour that Braden had fallen into. When Jago had gone, Miranda escorted Louise and Braden to the boat, helping Louise to lift the pushchair over the cobbles, so as not to disturb her son. His long lashes brushed his chubby cheeks as he slept in his chair.

‘How d’you keep your hands off him?’ asked Louise as Miranda helped her lower the pushchair onto the gangway.

‘Who?’

‘Oh come on, you must fancy the pants off him?’

Miranda gave in pretending she didn’t know what Louise meant. ‘He’s my boss.’

Louise straightened up. ‘Not gay, is he?’

‘Oh God, no!’

Louise raised her eyebrows. ‘Got some posh totty lined up to marry?’

‘I … um … don’t know much about his private life.’

‘’Scuse me but that’s crap. You live here, don’t you? I bet you know everything that goes on and you’ve gone bright red. Well, I don’t blame you. I’d shag him. He is totally hot.’

Braden yawned and opened his eyes. ‘Poo, Mummy … I want a poo.’

Louise groaned. ‘I’m trying to potty train him. Oh God, not here. Not now. Go to sleep. I’ll take you when we get off the boat. Goodbye, Miranda, and thanks again.’

‘A
pleasure. Come to the Festival of Fools. Ask for me when you get here and I’ll make sure you have a good time.’

The season was
in full swing. Even with Jago lending a hand when he could, even with him actually becoming useful, Miranda’s free time was almost non-existent. Lady St Merryn had taken more and more of a back seat, leaving the running to Jago and Miranda, while she made more trips off the island to London and to visit friends.

The Mount was now open even longer to take advantage of the school holidays. By the time the last visitor had been persuaded and cajoled to leave, it was usually well after six, then there was clearing up, locking up and a final security sweep to organise. The rhythm of the days was exhausting but Miranda had convinced herself that was a good thing.

Not such a good thing was Jago’s frequent presence in her office.

One morning, his one-fingered typing, which consisted of squinting at the screen, punctuated by periodic bashing of the keypad and swearing under his breath, had been driving her slowly mad. She was also trying to dispel a series of alarming and very un-PC
Secretary
-type fantasies. The phone rang and Jago glanced up, a frown on his face because his concentration had been broken.

Miranda
snatched up the handset. ‘Hi, it’s Theo. How’s it going?’

She glanced at Jago. He was doing his screen staring thing. ‘Fine, thanks,’ she said, trying to sound neutral yet friendly, unwilling to alert Jago to her caller’s identity.

‘I was calling to discuss a few more details about the tug of war. The guys are looking forward to it, especially Neem. The bloke will do anything to have an excuse to spend time with Ronnie,’ said Theo.

‘Yes, it all seems to be going very well,’ Miranda agreed breezily.

‘We also need to arrange a precise time and a space for the tug of war. We’ll need a flat surface and a fair bit of room for the guys and the spectators.’

‘I’d already thought of holding it in the lower courtyard in between the visitor centre and the café. There’s plenty of room for everyone there.’

Jago jabbed his keyboard again, concentration creasing a deep line between his eyebrows.

At the other end of the line, Theo went on, oblivious. ‘OK. What time do you want us? Afternoon is best as the guys have training in the morning.’

‘What about mid-afternoon when everything’s in full swing? Say three o’clock?’

‘Sounds like a plan. Have you got a team from the Mount sorted yet?’

Miranda twirled the telephone cord in her fingers. ‘It’s in hand. Reggie’s going to be team captain but he’s still recruiting and training people at the moment. How many did you say we need?’

‘Officially
we need eight people per team, and the weights have to be roughly even, but that might be difficult for you, considering the size of our lads. One of us will drop out on the day, if things look totally unfair to your lot.’

‘We can hold our own!’ Miranda exclaimed. Big mistake. Jago glanced up at her, If he’d been a Jack Russell, his ears would definitely have pricked up.

‘Don’t worry. It’s only a bit of fun,’ said Theo, chuckling softly. ‘We won’t take it too seriously if you don’t.’

Unlike Reggie, thought Miranda. He’d already been drilling his team of gardeners and handymen like the hard-nosed sergeant from
An Officer and a Gentleman
. Miranda had seen them jogging up and down the castle steps, and performing press-ups in the courtyard. She fully expected them to have buzz cuts and a platoon chant by the day of the Festival.

‘Is Jago in the team?’ asked Theo.

Miranda glanced at Jago, now engrossed in a report from English Heritage. ‘Not as far as I know,’ said Miranda.

‘Can’t stand the heat, eh?’

‘I don’t think he’s been asked.’

Jago
must
know she was talking about him. She sounded guilty as sin but, still, he didn’t look up at her.

‘OK, thank you for calling,’ she said, eager to end the call. She could phone Theo back when she was on her own.

‘Miranda,
wait.’

She squirmed. ‘Yes?’

‘I’ve put this off for far too long. Would you like to come out for a drink with me sometime? Not the Pilchard, somewhere away from the Mount and the village so we can talk properly.’ Miranda glimpsed Jago, eyes still riveted on the report as Theo went on. ‘What about Wednesday? That would be best for me as I’m definitely not on call and we won’t be interrupted.’

‘Wednesday?’ She scrabbled through her mental diary. ‘Well, I was hoping to go to the see the Fishermen’s Choir that night. They’re appearing at the Festival and I wanted to meet them in person and thank them for donating their fee to the Lifeboats.’

‘Where are they doing the gig?’

‘Porth Ivo.’

‘That’s not far. Why don’t I sail you there, weather permitting? One of the lifeboat crew has a cousin who sings with them.’

‘But do you really want to see them? Won’t it be a busman’s holiday?’

Theo laughed. ‘You know I love sailing and I can put up with a few sea shanties for one night. I’ll pick you up by boat or in the car, depending on the tides and weather. I’ll phone you again when I know which.’

‘Wednesday. Of course,’ she repeated.

‘Miranda, are you all right?’

‘I’m fine. See you then.’

Gently, she replaced the receiver. Surely, Jago must have realised she was setting up a date by now but he still appeared to be absorbed in his work.
Too
absorbed, in Miranda’s opinion. Had he guessed that it had been Theo on the phone? Of course, it didn’t matter if he had. It was none of his business and of no relevance whatsoever to his life or Miranda’s. And there was no earthly reason for her to refuse Theo’s invitation. Jago had made it brutally clear he wasn’t interested in taking their relationship further and she wanted to prove to herself that could move on from her crush on Jago.

Ten minutes later,
after she’d stared at her own screen without taking in a single word, she heard Jago snap shut a box file and replace it in the cupboard.

She treated him to a beaming smile that was as much guilt as relief. ‘Taking a break?’ she asked.

‘I need to go up to the castle. I’ve got a video conference with my legal team about the Southcastle contract.’

‘Oh.’

He came over to the desk and glanced down at her. ‘Have a lovely evening, Miranda. You know, Theo is right; you really should get away from this place.

The tides and weather being fair, Theo arrived on schedule at the Mount, allowing plenty of time to sail to the busy harbour at Porth Ivo. Ronnie and Neem waved them off from the quayside. Ronnie almost danced with glee because she’d finally ‘got Theo and Miranda together’ as she put it. At least, two people were happy; not all love affairs were doomed, thought Miranda at the unlikely sight of Neem giving Ronnie a piggyback to her cottage. Tonight, she hoped that getting to know Theo better, away from work and the Mount, might mark a new start for her.

Miranda
wasn’t a great sailor but she knew the ropes well enough to help Theo crew his small yacht safely in to the mousehole-sized harbour at Porth Ivo. After tying up, they joined the crowds heading to one of the harbourside inns where the choir had set up ready to sing.

It was a repertoire Miranda had heard before yet still loved; Cornish standards like ‘Trelawny’, sea shanties, folk songs and the odd modern track, given an unusual twist. The choir had rich, evocative voices that told of people lost at sea and the pride of local fishing communities; Miranda could almost feel the sea spray whipping her face as they sang. It should have been cheesy, but it wasn’t, not sung here by people who really did live, work and die by the sea.

‘I have to go and thank them,’ she said as the applause died down after their first half set and everyone dived for the bar.

‘Sure. Let’s say hello.’ Theo slipped his arm around her back, his hand firmly on her waist. Miranda asked herself how that felt. Sexy? She wasn’t sure. Comforting? Not really. Proprietorial? Where had that word come from? She tried to relax as they wandered among the audience in the interval. She was sure his grip tightened when they stopped to chat to his friends and realised that Theo obviously wanted people to know she was with him. She was with him, for that evening anyway, and it was flattering, but she didn’t feel ready to be labelled as his girlfriend.

She managed to fight her way through the crowds to the singers, enjoying pints of cider and Doom Bar ale. After thanking them for their generosity and saying how much she enjoyed the gig, Theo bought some of the singers a pint and Miranda slipped away to the loo. On the way back, she bumped into Karen from the Pilchard.

‘Hello there!’

‘Oh hello, Karen.’

Karen
smiled. ‘What’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or is it a guilty conscience?’

Miranda laughed. ‘No … um … I’m just surprised you got a night off from the pub. You’re always so busy.’

‘That’s the pot calling the kettle black. I got Ray to hold the fort while he’s not at sea. I wanted to see this gig. One of my regulars is in the choir.’

‘Oh.’ Miranda moved out of the narrow corridor that led to the toilets in the pub. Karen followed. Theo saw her and waved.

‘I didn’t know you were with Theo,’ said Karen. ‘I saw him with his arm round you earlier.’

‘Well, I’m not actually
with
him.’

‘You could have fooled me. You two seemed glued together.’

Miranda managed a laugh, but she knew that it wasn’t only her who had noticed Theo’s casual ownership of her. ‘Theo wanted to come and meet the choir before they sing at the Festival and he offered to sail me here.’

Karen held up her hands. ‘It’s OK, you don’t have to explain. It’s really none of my business.’

Miranda thought she
did
have to explain, having been seen with Jago one week and Theo the next. Apparently dating two men hardly made her the village bike but the bad blood that existed between Jago and Theo somehow made the situation seem worse. She hadn’t forgotten that Karen knew most of Jago’s intimate secrets, either.

She lowered her voice and plunged in. ‘Karen, what happened that night with the rowing boat and Jago. It was a one-off. I was three sheets to the wind.’

Karen
winked. ‘It’s OK. My lips are sealed. To be honest with you, a one-off sounds about right where Jago’s concerned. I heard about his wife’s accident, you know. My second cousin runs a bar in Bells Beach near where they were living. It was a terrible business and it sounds like it’s messed Jago up for good. He’s always been a complicated boy, shall we say, and now he’s pure trouble.’ She smiled. ‘He’s completely gorgeous trouble, of course but you’re better off with Theo.’

‘And Theo isn’t trouble?’

Karen laughed. ‘Aren’t all men? Yes, Theo’s a handful, but he’s very loyal. When he takes a liking to someone, he sticks by them – and the reverse is true too. Cross him and you’ve made an enemy for good.’

Miranda thought about asking Karen if she knew why Theo disliked Jago so much. After all, she was involved with Jago when both he and Theo were lads and still living in the village. Perhaps the rivalry had started then? But Miranda couldn’t think of any way of asking that didn’t sound incredibly intrusive and showing such an interest in Jago’s past really would ring Karen’s alarm bells.

‘Theo seems like a nice guy. He does a lot for the community,’ said Miranda, hoping Karen would take the bait.

‘And he’s sex on legs, honey, unless it had escaped your notice. He’s a man who knows what he wants and gets it. Catch of the year is Theo and you hooked him.’

Miranda wasn’t quite sure she liked this analogy. It sounded like she’d cast her net, hauled Theo in and had him floundering at her feet, gasping for air. ‘Maybe,’ she said, going for enigmatic and failing. ‘I’ll see you soon,’ she said, and walked back to Theo.

‘Miranda. You look cold. I’ll warm you up.’ Theo handed her a pint of cider and Miranda tried to relax and enjoy nestling in the arm of the unofficial hottest guy in Cornwall. A quick scan of the women in the audience showed more than one pair of envious eyes turned in her direction.

Unexpectedly, the cider and the rousing second half of the gig helped her unwind and she was laughing all the way home as Theo sailed back to the Mount. It was dark when they tied up in the harbour, with a few lights shining in the cottages and castle, revealing who was still awake. There was a glow from the bedroom of Ronnie’s place, Lady St Merryn’s bedroom window was dark but Jago’s lamp was on. He must be in his study working late.