Valentine Present and Other Diabolical Liberties (17 page)

      ‘How dare …’

     
‘And your nose gives a little twitch when you feel uncomfortable.’

Christ, what is he doing, some kind of human study on me? I’ll also show him how quickly my knee can jerk in a minute if he’s not careful.

      ‘Or maybe it just twitches when I’m casting a spell,’ I say, ‘so be careful I don’t turn you into a frog.’

He smiles.

      ‘I presume you’re not clay shooting in that outfit, as nice as it is.’

I look down at my silk shirt and jeans and pull my cardigan together.

      ‘Of course not,’ I snap.

     
‘Marcus sorted you out a nice little outfit did he? Oh yes, of course,’ he says, tapping his head. ‘I remember now, didn’t he say something about being grateful you didn’t have a shotgun in your hand, that the riding crop had been quite an ordeal. Odd thing to say don’t you think, to someone’s who’s an expert?’

     
‘I’m rather wishing I had the riding crop in my hand at this moment.’

He gives me a smile so sensual and says in a voice that I’m sure would bring
most women to orgasm,

     
‘I didn’t have you down as the kinky type. You’re full of nice surprises.’

I struggle to control my breathing.

      ‘Look, I know you don’t like me …’

He raises his eyebrows.

      ‘I never said that.
I’ve actually always liked you.’

My heart dances in my chest and the words
tell him, tell him now
shout in my head. But I can’t. I can’t tell him that Hamilton has paid me a lot of money to lie to his grandmother can I? Well I can, but then I’d have to explain about Julian and the Jacks, and then he’ll know how poor I really am and that I only work in a laundrette and he’ll then hate me. At least he actually likes me at the moment.
Go on take a chance,
whispers a voice in my head,
what is the worst that can happen
? Well actually the worst that can happen is that Hamilton will demand the money back, which means the Jacks won’t get their monkey short of fifty quid, and they will burn down the restaurant, which in turn means Julian won’t get his backer and that of course means Julian will
be toast, that is
if he isn’t already. But seeing as I don’t know if he is toast I can’t
take the risk can I? God, my head is spinning.

     
‘I’m thinking you might like to come for a boat trip across the loch with me tomorrow,’ he says casually.

     
‘And what on earth do you think would possess me to go on a boat trip across the loch with you?’ I say disdainfully while thinking what a lovely, if not dangerous, idea it is.

     
‘Because I’m presuming you may prefer it to the stag stalk my grandmother has planned for tomorrow. You don’t look much like a stag stalker to me. Personally I detest it.’

Oh dear God, stag stalking. I hate killing anything but to kill a
poor little deer would be awful. I try to hide the distaste from my face but fail miserably.

     
‘That’s settled then. I’ll be leaving at ten.’

He turns and strides away from me.

      ‘No, hang on a minute. I’ll just stay at the house and …’ I say, following like a power walker.

He smirks.

      ‘And you think Grandmother will fall for that? You’ll have a convenient migraine will you? I should tell you, Grandmother doesn’t warm to women with failing health. Far better if you say you had agreed to come on the trip with me to see something of the estate. At least that way I’ll know the family silver is safe while everyone is out.’

I gape at him. What a wanking, pissing, bastard.

      ‘That’s slander,’ I snap, pushing past him.

     
‘So take me to court.’

     
‘Go to hell,’ I say viciously and march to the house almost falling over Diamond in the process.

     
‘Bollocking cat,’ I mumble and stomp up the stairs. Fiona meets me on the landing, dressed in shooting gear. She tips her cap.

     
‘Where have you been? Emily has been waiting to dress you. What do you think?’ she asks gaily, giving
a twirl.

     
‘Fiona, have you forgotten why we are here? Where did you get that? And if you think I am letting you near a gun without contacts then forget it. Murder at the manor we do not need.’

     
‘Christ,’ she grumbles, ‘who rattled your cage?’

Emily greets me with a wide smile.

      ‘Oh Miss Harriet, it’s good you are here, I have everything laid out for you. The shoot is about to start and Cedric is setting everything up. Now, how shall we dress you?’

I think I shall have to give up trying to get her to call me just plain Harriet.
A tray of oatcakes sits on the
table with a pot of tea. I stare at them with a feeling of doom.

     
‘How do you usually dress the condemned?’ I mumble.

     
‘Bloody hell you’re cheerful,’ says Fiona. ‘Here,’ she passes me an oatcake, ‘your last supper madam.’

     
‘Are you coming down for the shoot?’ Calls Hamilton in that whiney voice that makes me cringe.

     
‘We’re coming,’ shouts Fiona.

Oh well, I’ve only got to fire a gun at a stupid clay pigeon. That can’t be too hard can it? So let’s get it over with.

     
Brice Edmunds doesn’t take his eyes off me and I can assure you it isn’t because he finds me captivating, at least I don’t think that is the reason. The bugger is just waiting for me to make a mistake.

     
‘The bastard wind has dropped at last,’ states Margarita bluntly. Melanie winces and Sebastian follows suit. Blimey they
are
sensitive. They could never live with me, that’s for sure. I personally am rather hoping that bastard wind may just whip up again and we can all return to the house. I feel like a prize prat in my moleskin breeks, and I only know they’re called breeks because Emily told me. They feel as uncomfortable as buggery and I would have been just as happy in my jeans. Topped with my country tweed jacket and Compton cap, I must resemble someone out of a P G Wodehouse novel. Frankly I think we all look like twats. Margarita looks like she could have stepped out of the film
The Queen
. As for Melanie, everything is just drowned in that God-awful perfume that she wears. I hate to say it but Fiona looks the most aristocratic out of all us and God knows she is far from that. I rather think with a shotgun in her hand that may drastically change however and she is then more likely to resemble the daughter of Al Capone. As for pigeons, well there isn’t one to be seen for dust, clay or otherwise. Oh, I so wish Julian would walk across the field like Sir Galahad and tell me that everything is now okay, that the Jacks are now sorted and we can just go home and life will be as it used to be. The question is do I want life to be as it used to be? I remove Fiona’s phone from my jacket pocket to see if Jack Diamond has sent instructions but there is nothing. I switch it to vibrate and slip it back. Cedric hands me a shotgun and I freeze.

     
‘I’ve given you a twenty bore Miss Harriet,’ he says.

I hate to tell him that it wouldn’t matter if he had given me a two bore. I’m still going to do as much damage.

      ‘And your cartridges Miss Harriet,’ he adds politely, placing a box in my hands.

Oh no, please don’t give me these.

      ‘Well let’s get on with the damn thing,’ grumbles Margarita. ‘I didn’t come out here for the fresh air and pneumonia. Who’s going first?’

You’re more likely to get shot than catch pneumonia I think and if you’re waiting for me to go first, you can think again.

      ‘Why don’t you go first old girl and wrap that scarf around you instead of holding it,’ says Brice good-humouredly, walking towards her and wrapping it around her neck himself. Good, that means he has forgotten me for a time at least. I study her closely as she opens the gun and inserts the cartridges. Okay, that looked easy. I’m still watching when I feel a warm hand stroke my neck.

     
‘I’d wear these if I were you,’ says Brice quietly slipping earmuffs over my head. ‘We don’t want you to go deaf do we?’

     
‘If it means I don’t have to listen to your twaddle any more it sounds like a great idea to me,’ I whisper.

He smiles and drops them ov
er my ears as Margarita shouts
pull
. I watch as a clay disc flies through the air. She fires and the disc explodes into dust. I wonder if I can feign a dizzy spell to get out of taking my turn. Melanie misses hers and I wildly imagine if I can do the same. Fiona is looking at me earnestly. At least I think she is looking at me. It’s always hard to know where she is looking when she hasn’t got her contacts in. Sebastian fires next and the smart bugger hits his as well. This does not bode well for me. Why Hamilton isn’t coming forward to guide me I do not know. I give him an appealing look but he just shakes his head. What was the stupid arse thinking when he told everyone I was an expert shot? Margarita raises her finger in a way that indicates she needs a drink.

     
‘A hot toddy please Cedric,’ she says.

Thankfully we all take a break. As Cedric pours from a flask Fiona edges close to me.

      ‘Do you know what to do?’ she asks.

     
‘Not a bleeding clue.’

She nods.

      ‘I thought not. I’ll stand well clear when it’s your go then.’

     
‘Oh, thanks a lot.’

     
‘Would you like brandy or coffee Miss Harriet?’ asks Cedric.

     
‘Brandy please Cedric, anything that will calm my trembling knees,’ I smile.

     
‘Just remember to cock it Miss Harriet …’

I widen my eyes.

      ‘I’ve cocked a few things up Cedric, what do you actually propose I cock up this time?’

     
‘The shotgun might be a good idea Miss. Then insert your cartridges. Release the safety catch and aim.’

I suppose he couldn’t write that down.

      ‘Be careful of the recoil.’

     
‘I’m fully expecting everyone to recoil Cedric,’ I say nervously.

     
‘I’m talking about the recoil from the shot Miss Harriet.’

     
‘Yes of course,’ I say grabbing his flask and pouring more brandy into my glass. I walk over to Hamilton trying to look casual while I’m sure my trembling knees can be seen a mile off.

     
‘Get me out of this. There is no way I can pull it off,’ I say firmly.

     
‘If you can’t shoot she’ll know something’s up. Just aim, hold the gun firmly and if you miss, you miss. We’ll say you’ve hurt your hand but we didn’t want to ruin the shoot by saying anything.’

What the fuck.

      ‘Just tell them I’ve hurt my hand now,’ I hiss.

     
‘Harriet, it’s your turn. Are you ready dear?’ asks Sebastian kindly.

I most certainly am not.
Brice edges close to me and takes the drink from my hand.

     
‘Load the gun, slide the safety catch, aim, shout pull and squeeze the trigger halfway for the first shot. Pull it back for your second shot,’ he whispers. ‘But of course you know all that, being an expert and all.’

I turn to look at him but he avoids my eyes. Why is he suddenly helping me?

      ‘Come on girl, do you want me to die from hypothermia,’ bellows Margarita.

I’d rather that tha
n you die from a gunshot wound. I pull my earmuffs back on, open the shotgun which is amazingly easy, remove the cartridges from the box and insert them. I glance at Brice and his nod is practically imperceptible but I recognise it and know I have at least got them in the right way. I cock the gun, release the safety catch and lift it to my shoulder in the same way I saw Margarita do. I feel perspiration run between my breasts and my heart is beating so fast I’m finding it hard to breathe. My hands slip on the barrel and I quickly wipe them on my breeks. I take a deep breath and shout
pull
. The
disk flies into the air and I follow it with my eye and pull the trigger halfway and the bleeding phone vibrates in my pocket making me jump out of my skin. I fall back, firing God knows where. Cedric was right about the recoil, the force spun me around like a spinning top and before I know what I’m doing I have fired my second shot at the house. Everyone turns horror-stricken towards Glenwood. I pull off my earmuffs to the sound of shattering glass and screams from the house.

     
‘Good Lord, she’s shot the servants. Quick Hamilton,’ shouts Melanie.

Oh my God, please don’t say I’ve gone and killed Emily. Sweet lovely Emily, oh my God, how can I live with myself?
Emily comes running out all a fluster and my legs almost give way.

     
‘It’s alright,’ she shouts. ‘Just the landing window was hit.’

     
‘Good shot though,’ says Hamilton stupidly.

     
‘I’m so sorry Margarita. My mobile vibrated in my pocket and made me jump.’

She meets my eyes and studies me intently.

      ‘I would suggest leaving the phone back at the house in future,’ grins Sebastian. ‘Another round Mother?’ he suggests.

     
‘Yes why not. Harriet?’

Oh God, no really? I take the toddy Cedric offers me and throw it back. My shirt is soaked in perspiration.

      ‘I think I’ll take a rain check if that’s okay. That’s rather shaken me up. It’s never happened to me before,’ I say feeling more confident with the drink in me. Maybe I could have another go. No, Harriet, don’t push your luck.

     
‘No, I’m sure it hasn’t,’ says Brice with that familiar sarcasm.

     
‘No, you’re normally a brilliant shot, can’t think what possessed you to carry your mobile darling,’ says Hamilton draping an arm around my shoulder.

     
‘You all carry on. Harriet can take me back to the house. Come along Harriet,’ orders Margarita.

I look to Hamilton who nods and begins to follow.

      ‘You stay here Hamilton. I want to have a little chat with Harriet.’

Uh oh, this doesn’t sound promising. I look pleadingly at Fiona and mouth ‘Jack’s text’
but she has been sidetracked by Sebastian.

     
‘How about you Fiona, do you want to have a try?’ he asks.

     
‘Well, I could,’ she says hesitantly taking a gun from Cedric. I decide it is time for a hasty retreat and start pushing Margarita’s wheelchair to the house as fast as I can before Fiona starts spraying bullets everywhere. I struggle up the ramp breathing heavily. Christ I’m likely to die before Margarita at this rate.

     
‘Take me to the library,’ she says abruptly and I do as I am bidden. I’m having serious doubts about Margarita Lancaster. If this woman has only got six months to live then I’m a monkey’s uncle. Talking of monkeys, I discreetly check the text message on Fiona’s phone.

Lower Glen, ten miles from Glenwood. Get a map. Disused warehouse at the back of Glengarry estate. Don’t be late Harriet.

Get a map? From where exactly? Margarita orders Lionel to bring us another brandy and gestures for me to sit in the leather armchair opposite her and I slyly look around to see if there are maps lying about. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes animated. She’s pretty robust for someone who is dying. There is something very odd going on with Margarita Lancaster and I can’t quite put my finger on it. My heart is beating normally but I’m perspiring even more now we are in the stifling hot library, and it’s not helping knowing Fiona has a gun in her hand. I expect stray bullets to shatter the library window any second. With a bit of luck one will hit me and it will all be over. I stretch my neck to see the time on the small mantelpiece clock. It is almost five. It will take us forty minutes to drive to this Lower Glen place and I’ve still got to organise transport, then we’ve got to find the warehouse. We’ll have to leave by six-thirty which also means I’ve got to get us out of dinner as well as hire a car and somehow get a map.

     
‘Bring the ring,’ she orders Lionel.

Oh no
, and now I have to try
The Ring
. My life resembles a horror film by the minute. Lionel doesn’t flinch but produces a box and hands it to her.

     
‘You’re very pretty,’ she says looking at me intently. ‘You have a natural beauty, not like Melanie,’ she grimaces. ‘It’s all smoke and mirrors with her. Nothing’s real.’

Best not to comment
I think sensibly and sip from the brandy. She points a finger in my direction.

     
‘You remind me of myself when I was your age. You’re strong and independent which is why …’ she stops to sip her brandy.

I bite my lip and try not to give myself away.

      ‘I can’t get my head around the fact you want to be with that useless lump of a grandson of mine.’

     
‘He gives me everything I need,’ I say simply.

Well, that’s not lying is it? Thirty thousand pounds is exactly what I need.

      ‘That surprises me,’ she says with heavy cynicism as she opens the box.

I gasp at the sight of the ring. It is a huge sapphire surr
ounded by single diamonds. I can’t accept this. I can’t deceive this woman. This is getting out of hand. The sound of a gunshot makes me jump and I gulp the brandy.

     
‘Margarita …’ I begin.

     
‘Try it on and if it needs adjusting Jeremy can do it on Monday.’

I remove the ring from the box and stare at it.

      ‘Brice tells me you’ve declined to come on the stag shoot tomorrow. He seems to think you have distaste for it as he does. He’s taking you across the loch instead.’

I nod uncomfortably.

      ‘I hope you don’t mind. I’m slightly uncomfortable with any kind of hunting,’ I say truthfully.

She flicks a hand irritably.

      ‘It’s not everyone sport. How’s your tennis?’