Protection (27 page)

“Oh, you poor thing.”Carrie said, reaching across to hug her shoulders. “I'm so sorry. Who offered you the money?”

“That would be telling, but all I will say is that his next movie is due to be shot in the desert. As for the marriage proposal, that came from someone so old his pace maker was probably mechanical and the snog inquiries were naturally all from other women.”

“They're all the same.”Amanda tutted, pouring coffee into mugs. “All want to know but none of them actually have the courage to try it for themselves. Still, wouldn't surprise me if we heard a few more little revelations before the year is out.”

“Nor me.”Carrie added, gaining a look from Andrea that said spill or else. “And it's nothing definite. All I'm saying is that some of the gloomy corners in this house are not quite as dark as they first appear to be.”

“So? Who was it?”

Carrie touched the side of her nose. “I'm not telling. But they know I saw them and now they owe me a huge favour. And that, darling, is worth far more than anything a scandal rag could offer me.”

“And that's it?”Andrea gaped. “That's all you're going to say? I thought this was supposed to be gossip corner! Bugger! I'm going to be up half the night now, wondering who it was?”

June arrived then, cutting off further argument, and thanking Carrie for using her catering services, promised to return in the morning to finish the tidying up.

Brian Holding followed and after spending a few moments with Carrie, walked with Andrea and June to the front door, filling Andrea in as they went on the incident which had resulted in one of his men leaving his post.

“I take it upstairs was checked once they'd realised?”Andrea asked.

“Of course.”Brian nodded. “Two of the guys did a thorough search, but they didn't find anything. Of course, if there'd been cameras up there we would have known for sure one way or another.”

“And what about the rest of the house?”Andrea asked choosing to ignore his remark about the cameras. “Did they search downstairs too?”

“Everywhere we could without alerting the guests, but again nothing.”

“I bet one of the waiters did it for a dare.”June sniffed once Brian had finished speaking. “They're always up to some stupid prank or other. If I were you, I wouldn't waste my time worrying about it. I'll speak to ‘em tomorrow if you like, see what they've got to say for themselves.”

Andrea nodded her approval and after deciding next year, Brian Holding most definitely wouldn't be in charge of security, made a mental note to do a quick tour of the house before she went to bed.

The chilly, winter wind cut right through them as they huddled under the porch, and clad in nothing but her flimsy dress, Andrea didn't linger long over farewells. Instead she waved them off and quickly hurried back inside. Closing the door on something soft but solid which turned out to be Claude's foot.

Apologising, she ushered him in out of the cold.

“What on earth were you doing out there?”Andrea asked, as Claude winced and rubbed his aching toes. “Thought you'd packed up long ago.”

“What! Without saying a proper ‘ au revoir' to my dear Carrie. I think not. Where, please, may I find her? Or has she already retired to her bed?”

A small twitch of his left eyebrow left Andrea wondering if he was insinuating more than he was actually saying, but too tired to care she ignored it.

“She's in the kitchen if you must know.”She said. “Winding down, or at least, trying to. Perhaps you would like to join us for a cup of tea?”

Claude blanced.”Tea!”He exclaimed, making Andrea wonder if he actually practiced looking shocked. “I would not touch it with one of your barge poles. It is a vile concoction! I shall have coffee. Good, strong, French coffee and nothing else.”

“Sure, be our guest, if you want to lay awake half the night staring at the ceiling.”

But Claude didn't pause long enough to sample the coffee, English or otherwise, for the moment he saw Carrie, he went straight into ‘fawning overtime and for the next ten minutes enthused over the splendour of the party, the guests, the food and the wine. All of which he accentuated with so much kissing of the back of her hand Carrie seriously began to wonder if her skin might crinkle?

The sight of Carmichael, sauntering in from God knows where with yet another full glass of Scotch, was nothing short of a Godsend, until he put his foot in his mouth by cheerfully asking the designer whether he was staying the night too?

Then Carrie could have kicked him. But Claude, full of regret, was already wringing his hands.

“I am so sorry but I can not possibly stay the night.”He cried. “I am so tired! Exhausted! I must go home and lie in a darkened room until I have recovered. But perhaps another time my sweet Carrie? Then it would be my honour to accept. Until then I will bid you all a fond farewell and wish you a joyous Noel.”

Watching him go, Carmichael burped loudly. “That man.”He mumbled sourly. “Might be able to work wonders with fake snow, but by God, he's a wanker.”

Glancing at the fluorescent face of her watch, Isobel Pearce groaned with dismay.

How much longer where they going to be for Heaven's sake? She didn't think she could stay awake much longer and for the last ten minutes she'd been debating whether or not to make a dash for the bathroom and have a pee. Except every time she moved she thought she heard someone coming and she was forced to stay put and squeeze her legs together, praying whoever it was would go away.

Now, though, her bladder was practically screaming at her and knowing that she could have gone numerous times already wasn't helping much either.

So what was she waiting for now? A bloody invitation? Go! Go now while it was still quiet.

Amanda was disappointed. Far from providing the scandal she'd hoped for, the after-party gossip had been surprisingly brief, and aside from Carrie's revelation that she had seen a couple of same sex movie stars getting it on in the shadows, there had been little else to report.

Now Carrie and Andrea were getting ready to go to bed.

“I don't remember ever being this tired.”Andrea said as she rinsed her mug out at the sink. “I'm going to sleep like a log tonight.”

“I imagine you are.”Carmichael said, silently thinking it would be right after she'd made love to the most gorgeous woman in the world.

He hated himself for feeing this jealous! And he hated the way this was fast becoming a daily ritual in which he struggled with his emotions. But what could he do about it? Carrie was never going to be his and he knew it. It was hopeless.

A hand waved in front of his face.

“Time for bed matey.”Carrie said, giving his shoulder a shake. “You look done in and I don't think you really want to nod off at the table, do you?”

“No he doesn't.”Amanda cut in. “That's the last thing I want to see first thing in the morning is his ugly face dribbling all over my best tablecloth.”

Oh, the relief!

Pulling up her trousers, Isobel sighed gratefully and reached for the flush, pausing when she realised the dreadful mistake she'd made.

She couldn't flush! If she did, everyone in the house would hear it and they'd all come running! But the only other alternative was to leave it and that was just horrible!

But what choice did she have? Other than to hope whoever used the loo next was either too drunk or too tired to notice.

Bidding Carmichael a final goodnight, certain that he would probably fall sleep fully clothed across the bed, Carrie and Andrea wound their arms around each other and wandered slowly towards their room.

Bone tired, Carrie found the landing inexplicably long and overcome by a sudden wave of nausea, she clutched her stomach and wondered if she was about to be sick?

She could see no reason for it. She'd hardly touched a drop all evening. Her mouth too frequently engaged in conversation to wrap itself around anything alcoholic, and the only thing she'd had to eat were a few nibbles. Hardly enough to make her stomach want to roll up and void them.

But perhaps she was just tired. Worn out by the party and the stress of organising it and if that was the case, then she was going to have no problem dealing with it. All she wanted to do was roll up under her duvet and go to sleep.

Beside her, Andrea noticed her wince and frowned at how pale she looked. It didn't surprise her. Carrie had hardly sat still all evening in her desire to play the perfect hostess and it was little wonder that she was starting to feel the effects now. Still, she doubted it was anything a good nights sleep wouldn't put right.

Together they reached the door to the bedroom and yawning loudly Carrie pushed it open. “I can't wait to hit the sack.”She said. “Even my teeth feel tired. Want to use the bathroom first or shall I?”

“You.”Andrea replied. “I've just remembered I was going to do a quick tour of the house before bed.”

“Why?”Carrie yawned again. “Nothing's wrong is it?”

“Hope not, it's just that Brian said one of his guys got talked into leaving his post for a minute and he was worried somebody might have taken the opportunity to sneak off somewhere and have a poke around.”

“Really? He never said anything to me. But why didn't Brian check it out himself if he was that worried?”

“He did.”Andrea replied. “And he claims he didn't find a thing. But I still want to check it out myself, just to be on the safe side. I won't be long, I promise.”

“Okay, if that's what you want. But don't be long eh? I won't be able to sleep until you're back.”

“In that case, I'll make sure I'm quick. But first I want to get changed. No way am I running around outside in this dress!”

Halfway across the bedroom Isobel froze, transfixed by the sound of voices just outside the door.

Where had they come from? She hadn't heard anyone coming. Not like before, when that hulking, great bruiser had come crashing up the stairs and she'd been able to hear him coming from miles off!

This time she hadn't heard a thing! And now they were practically inside the room!

Panicked, she snatched another look at the door and sprinted across the remaining carpet. Hurrying back inside the closet to her hiding place behind the mirror.

Shutting the bedroom door behind her, Carrie yawned and stretched and after switching on the small table lamp beside the bed, crossed to the bathroom to set the water running for a shower.

It would have been nice to simply take off her dress and just slip into bed, but she knew that if she didn't wash first she would only wake up in the morning feeling stale and dirty, and leaving the connecting door open so she didn't have to switch on the main bathroom light and risk waking herself up too much, she stepped inside and used the toilet, totally unaware in the semi gloom that the toilet had already been used and that Isobel was creeping stealthily from behind the mirror to press her eye to the gap in the closet door.

Why did party debris always look so sad?

Wandering into the lounge, Andrea picked her way through the debris of artificial snow and recalled how wonderul it had looked when Claude had first shown it to them. Now, kicked about and scuffed, it simply looked sad and cheap and she wished she could just clap her hands and make it all disappear, returning everything to normal.

The room was in a right mess too, with discarded plates and glasses lying everywhere and dropped food littering the floor.

Awoman's bra, draped inexplicably over the edge of the sleigh caught her eye.

Who did that belong to, she wondered? And had they left it there on purpose, specifically for Carrie to find? It was an interesting thought. Especially if Amanda had been right in her assumption that someone else was on the verge of ‘coming out.'

Crossing to the patio doors and side stepping a broken bottle, Andrea peered through the patially open curtains to the huge marquee beyond and shivered. It looked absolutely freezing out there and she wished she didn't have to go, but the marquee was as good a place as any to hide out and despite the hour and the fact that Carrie was waiting for her all snuggled up in bed, she knew that if she didn't check it out she would never be able to rest.

On her way out, she tried the door to Carrie's study, and finding it locked, moved on to the dining room. It was dark. Both the electric candles and the ‘logs' in the fake fireplace switched off. The windows framing the ice sculptures which still stood outside, slowly melting now the refrigeration units had been unplugged and doomed by morning to be nothing but expensive puddles.

Yawning, Andrea closed the curtains and wandered out to the control box in the hallway, flipping open the door and briefly toying with the idea of simply setting the alarm system and going off to bed.

But then she thought of Amanda and her ridiculous belief that because her cottage was inside the grounds, she was safe enough without having to set the alarms, and she stumbled towards the kitchen, half hoping to find the housekeeper still there.

But the kitchen was dark and silent and crossing to the intercom linking Amanda's cottage to the main house, she lifted the receiver and pressed hard on the ‘call' button.

Moments later, Amanda's voice sounded sleepily in her ear.

“Amanda, it's Andrea. Look, I'm sorry to disturb you so late, but do me a favour and set your alarm tonight will you?”

“My alarm? Why? Has something happened?”

“I don't know to be honest but despite one of his guys surposedly keeping watch in the monitor room all evening, Brian seems to think someone might have tried to sneak in.”

Amanda went quiet. “I see.”She said at last. “Should I be worried?

“Probably not. In all honestly I can't see how anyone could have sneaked off without someone seeing them, but set your alarms anyway. Just to be on the safe side.”