Time to Pay (10 page)

‘Shouldn't you be resting?' Pippa came out of the tack room as he stepped out of the vehicle.

‘No, I'm fine. Officially.'

‘You went to the hospital?' She sounded surprised. ‘That must have been Eve's doing. So how is it? Still aching?'

‘Very little,' he said truthfully.

‘But you drove here . . .'

He normally walked or pedalled.

‘It's raining, and I didn't particularly want to squeeze my hat on over the bruise, all right? Inquisition over?'

Just at that moment, Lloyd came to stand in the doorway behind Pippa.

Gideon nodded. ‘Henry. Quiet day on the hustings?'

‘Just giving Pippa a hand clearing up,' Lloyd replied, evenly. ‘How are you, this morning?'

‘OK, thanks. My neck's a bit stiff but otherwise I'm not too bad, considering.'

‘Make you think twice before you go tackling burglars again,' Lloyd observed.

‘Actually, if I'd had any idea there was anyone in there, I'd have shut the door and locked it, then called the police.'

‘Oh, and I had you down as a have-a-go hero. From what Pippa's been telling me, you're a regular Indiana Jones.'

Gideon smiled thinly. ‘It's not like Pippa to exaggerate,' he said. ‘But anyway, that's all in the past and much best left there.'

The mild snub seemed to affect Pippa more than it did Lloyd.

‘I didn't tell him anything,' she said defensively. ‘Nothing that mattered, I mean.'

This time it was Lloyd's turn to look less than pleased and, if Gideon had been in a better mood, he would have found it funny but, as it was, he effectively dismissed the subject by asking if Giles was around.

‘He's in the snug, I think,' Pippa told him. ‘At least, he was when I last saw him. Bella's in the doghouse, this morning. Somehow she found her way in there and knocked his antique paperweight off the desk. God knows what she thought she was doing! Sod's Law, it had to hit the edge of the hearth and break.'

Adjoining the library, the snug was a small
room that Giles used as an office, and Gideon did indeed find him there, shuffling through files and papers with an expression of intense frustration.

‘Argh!' he muttered, without looking up, and as Gideon tapped on the open door, ‘Millie, have you been tidying my desk again?'

‘How many times have I asked you to stop calling me that?' Gideon demanded, going in. ‘It ruins my street cred!'

Giles glanced up with a grin. ‘Idiot! Mrs Morecambe looked in a moment ago and offered me a cup of tea. I thought you were her.'

Mrs Morecambe had been employed by the Barrington-Carrs since Giles and Pippa were in the nursery, first as a nanny and then as a housekeeper, and she plainly regarded her duties as being somewhere between the two.

‘I saw her in the kitchen and asked her to put another cup on the tray. I gather Bella's in disgrace.' Gideon strolled forward and picked up two chunky pieces of coloured glass. ‘Whoops . . .'

‘Yes. I don't know what she thought she was going to find. I don't keep any food in here – at least not since a packet of boiled sweets got shoved to the back of the drawer and forgotten. When I found them, God knows how long after, they'd turned to liquid and run all over the year's bank statements. My accountant wasn't amused!' Giles chuckled at the memory. ‘Anyway, I've kept it a food-free zone since then. Even biscuit crumbs leave fatty stains.'

‘Perhaps Bella was chasing a fly,' Gideon suggested. ‘You know how crazy she goes then.'

‘Yeah, could be. So what did you think of last night, eh? The feedback was absolutely brilliant and I've had three calls already . . .' He faltered. ‘Oh, Christ, I'd forgotten – Pips said you had a bust-up with a tack thief in the middle of it all! Are you OK?'

‘I think a “bust up” is putting it a bit strongly. I walked in – he clobbered me; end of story,' Gideon said ruefully. ‘But – no, I'm fine. Just a bump on the head and a stiff neck. I've had worse. Are you going to notify the police, or not?'

Giles shrugged. ‘Oh, I don't know. Pippa doesn't think anything's missing. It hardly seems worth all the hassle. Unless you feel strongly about it . . .?'

‘Good Lord, no! I've spent more than enough time with the cops lately. If you're happy, I am. After all, it must be a million-to-one chance they'll ever catch the bastard. So . . .' he went on in a lighter tone, ‘Graylings Sparkler is officially launched and has the wind in her sails.'

‘Yes, it's amazing! If I'd known starting my own business would give me such a rush, I'd have done it ages ago!'

After a lazy morning, Gideon stayed to lunch at the Priory, where the talk alternated between the attempted theft and the ballooning success of Giles' apple wine. Three more calls had come in: two from customers wanting to place orders and the third from a regional paper, keen to do an interview with Dorset's newest entrepreneur.

‘Eve's ideas were brilliant – just added the final touches,' Giles told Gideon. ‘Especially those
perfume burners, or whatever you call them. It was very subtle, but it made all the difference.'

‘Yeah, she's done a fair bit of research into that sort of thing.'

‘Feng shui,' Lloyd put in, knowledgeably.

‘No, not feng shui. The whole business of marketing. Apparently it's a proven fact that adding just a trace of the right scent into the retail area – not even enough for people to be aware of it – can improve sales dramatically. Eve uses something in the gallery, and it seems to work. She's been very successful. She sold two of mine last week.'

‘Wow! It must be good!' Giles joked.

Gideon laughed.

‘OK, I asked for that, didn't I? Actually it's a mixed blessing, because if she sells too many, I'll have to get on and do some more. But anyway, I'll pass on your gratitude.'

‘Yes, please do. And why don't you bring her over one evening for a celebratory meal? How about tonight?'

Gideon shook his head. ‘Can't do tonight. I know that right away. She's got a “do” on at the gallery. She wants me there, too. She says she's got someone coming who may be interested in commissioning me for a portrait. But I'm sure she'd love to come, another time. She said how much she enjoyed it last week.'

‘I'm probably going to be out tonight, anyway,' Lloyd announced.

‘Oh? And what made you think
you
were invited?' Pippa enquired, echoing Gideon's thoughts.

Lloyd pulled a face at her.

‘So, where are you going tonight, then? You didn't say anything earlier,' she queried.

‘No, I've only just remembered – Gideon saying about the “do” at the gallery reminded me. Amber's school are putting on a fashion show, and I promised to be there. Amber's my daughter,' he added for Gideon's benefit. ‘Not exactly my idea of a fun evening – a bunch of flat-chested ten-year-olds modelling home-made clothes – but it means a lot to her.'

‘Well, of course she'd want her daddy there!' Pippa exclaimed. ‘And you'll be clapping just as hard as everyone else, when it comes to it.'

‘OK, so I'm really a big softy,' Lloyd admitted, smiling at her. ‘But you didn't have to tell everyone!'

Gideon felt he'd had enough.

‘Well, if I'm going to do anything with my troubled friend out there, I'd better get moving,' he said, pushing his chair back and getting to his feet. ‘Eve's expecting me at six, and I've got to brush my hair and clean my nails before then!'

Gideon supposed the evening exhibition could be counted a success – inasmuch as he apparently said the right things and was given the commission to paint three golden retrievers belonging to a retired colonel and his wife – but he couldn't truthfully have said he enjoyed it.

Eve was in her element, looking stunning in a flowing silk garment the colour of pewter, and wearing the biggest and most elaborate mother-of-pearl necklace Gideon had ever seen.

‘It
is
a bit OTT, isn't it?' she agreed, when he
commented on it. ‘But you see, it's kind of expected of me. It gives people something to talk about, and it's no bad thing to have a trademark. I think some of the ladies only really come to see what I'm wearing; I'd hate to disappoint them!'

By day, the gallery – a barn conversion full of glass and oak beams – seemed to catch and reflect the light, giving it a kind of luminescence, and the effect after dark was equally impressive, the windows turning into black mirrors and the pictures glowing under the clever spotlighting. Gideon spent the evening mingling with Eve's guests, sipping drinks he didn't really want, and wishing he could take his throbbing head home and lay it on a pillow.

It was gone eleven when the last lingering visitor had been waved off the premises and Eve was able to switch off the lights and lock up.

‘Thanks for coming, and staying,' she said, putting her arms round Gideon as they stood on the gravel outside. ‘I know it's not really your thing.'

‘No, it was OK; I enjoyed it.' She smelled faintly of some musky, exotic spice and, despite his headache, he pulled her against him, imagining the pewter silk sliding off over her smooth golden curves.

‘Liar. You hated it.'

‘OK, I did, but I got a commission out of it, so I can't complain.'

Eve pulled back a little.

‘I meant to ask you about that. That price you quoted – did I hear right?'

‘Did you see the car they came in?' Gideon countered.

‘You know, you're wicked!' Eve told him, leaning
against him once more and laying her cheek against his. ‘It's a good job I like bad boys . . . Come home with me?'

‘I can't,' he said. ‘I'm sorry, but I have to let Zebedee out. He'll be sitting cross-legged as it is.'

Eve sighed. ‘Much as I love animals, that's the one reason I wouldn't have one; they tie you down so, and I love to be free. Oh well, I suppose I'll just have to come home with you.'

‘You're welcome to, of course, but I must warn you, I have the mother and father of all headaches.'

‘That's not very original,' she murmured, then more sharply, ‘Oh, your head! I'd forgotten. Why the hell didn't you say something?'

‘It's been coming on gradually.'

She scanned his face with a certain amount of concern.

‘Do you think you should see a doctor?'

‘No,' Gideon said firmly, ‘I don't. It's just the natural result of being clobbered and then spending an evening making small talk and smiling a lot. It'll probably be better by tomorrow.'

‘Will you promise to see a doctor if it isn't? Oh, God, listen to me, I sound like your mother!'

‘Actually,' he said, amused, ‘you sound more like my mother than my mother does – if you see what I mean. She's an artist, too, and she gets completely immersed in her work. It was nothing unusual for her to forget meals when my sister and I were growing up. We learned, very early, to be self-sufficient. But anyway, thank you – you're very sweet.'

She gave him another searching look.

‘Are you sure you'll be all right?'

‘Positive.'

‘Well, in that case, I think I'll love you and leave you. I've got to open up tomorrow, and I'm pretty well dead on my feet. But – ring me in the morning, OK?'

‘So you know I've made it through the night?' he quizzed. ‘Be a bit late if I haven't.'

‘Oh, don't say that!'

Laughing, he drew her closer and kissed her soundly before seeing her to her car.

The roads were fairly clear on the way home, and Gideon drove with the window open to keep him awake. The night air was refreshing, and he found himself wishing – not for the first time of late – that he were on a motorbike. It had been a couple of years since he'd wrapped his treasured Norton around a tree, through no fault of his own, and Giles and Pippa had given him the Land Rover. At first, comfort and convenience had kept him content, but the call of two wheels had never entirely gone away and had, over time, grown steadily stronger.

With the promise of a financial boost from the portrait commission, he found the idea of getting another motorcycle very quickly put down roots and flourished, and by the time he reached the Gatehouse he was only left with the pleasurable task of deciding what sort of bike to buy.

Zebedee greeted him with his usual wild exultation, exhibiting the bouncing technique that had earned him his name. Gideon had tried, unsuccessfully, to train him out of it, but as he didn't actually jump
at
people any more, but only up and down on the spot, he now let him get on with it. It was a harmless expression of his
excitement, and Gideon championed individuality.

Closing the front door, he looked round for Elsa, who sometimes got ‘bounced', but she was nowhere to be seen, which was unusual. She spent a lot of her time on the Aga, and almost always appeared to welcome him when he'd been out. Shrugging, he quieted Zebedee and went through to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee before he went to bed. The cool air had soothed his head and he no longer felt the need for painkillers so, after calling for the cat a time or two with no success, he let the dog out into the garden for five minutes, then switched the light off and made his way upstairs, half-expecting to find Elsa curled up on his duvet.

She wasn't.

Frowning, Gideon stood his mug on the bedside cabinet and began a search of the upstairs rooms. There was only another bedroom and a bathroom, and both doors had been shut, but he looked anyway, on the off chance that she'd got shut in before he left. She was nowhere to be seen.

Really puzzled now, Gideon went back downstairs, turning the lights on again and stepping over Zebedee, who was lying in his customary place against the bottom step. The dog looked up and wagged his tail sleepily as Gideon stepped over him and went on into the sitting room.