Camellia (80 page)

'Do you remember those miracle stories they told us at school, ones from the Bible where lame men walked and stuff?' she asked.

'You're not going to tell me I've made your foot better?' he laughed softly.

'You might very well have done, I haven't checked it yet,' she smiled. 'No, I mean like baptism washing away sins. I tried meditation, celibacy, even prayer to wash away the past. I never thought love could do it, but it has.'

Nick didn't reply, just snuggled down on the pillow beside her. He was quiet for so long she thought he'd fallen asleep. Then he sighed, and reached up to trace round her lips with one finger.

'I thought you'd dropped off,' she whispered.

'It isn't gentlemanly to fall asleep before your lady does,' he said. 'I was just wondering how I'm going to go downstairs for dinner tonight pretending I'm Mr Poitier with his convalescing wife, when really I want to go down there and buy a magnum of champagne and tell anyone who'll listen that I'm the luckiest man in the world.'

'Dinner,' she said thoughtfully. 'Now you're talking. I'm starving!'

Nick sat up in bed, snatched the pillow from under her head and held it over her face. 'You unromantic pig,' he said in a mock severe voice. 'There I am pouring out my innermost thoughts and all you can think of is food.'

'Let me go.' She struggled against him. 'I promise I can be twice as romantic, and twice as sexy with a full tummy. I won't even giggle when Mr Grant calls you Mr Poitier.'

They drove out of Lyme Regis late on Friday afternoon. Mel had never had a real holiday before and now she understood why people set such store by them. It had been such a blissful lazy time: hours of lovemaking, breakfast in bed, long wallowing baths, lunches in quaint old pubs, gentle walks around the town followed by delicious dinners in the evenings. It was the first time she'd ever slept close to the sea. Lying in Nick's arms listening to the waves pounding the shore, it seemed the most blissful, soothing sound she'd ever heard.

They hadn't fooled anyone in the hotel that they were Mr and Mrs Poitier. Mr Grant admitted he recognised Nick's face from the papers and the curious and often affectionate looks they got from the older guests suggested that most of them recognised young love.

The scratches and bruises were gone now, the faint pink lines here and there easily concealed with a little make-up. Rest and fresh air had brought colour back to Mel's cheeks. Even her foot had healed completely. That morning she'd had her hair washed and trimmed in a hairdressers, in readiness for the evening's party. Nick still hadn't guessed there was a surprise in store for him when they got back.

'We'll get away again soon.' He reached out for her hand as he drove, instinctively sharing her sadness that the holiday was over. 'Why don't we tell Dad tonight that we're getting married?'

'Is that a proposal?' Mel wriggled nearer to him. 'Or just an excuse for another holiday.'

'Do you want me to attempt to kneel while I'm driving?'

'No, that can wait,' she joked. 'But what are your prospects young man?'

'If the critics are kind after tonight, excellent/ he grinned. 'I've got a month's filming in Rome lined up for early next year. Who knows after that.'

'Rome!' she exclaimed. 'You haven't mentioned that before.'

'I've been saving it for a surprise.' He patted her knee affectionately. 'If we got married at Christmas you could come with me and it could double as a honeymoon.'

'Are you serious?' Mel's eyes grew wide with delight.

'Never more so.' Nick turned into a petrol station and pulled up by the pumps. 'I don't ever want us to be apart again. But you've got as long as it takes me to get some petrol to make up your mind.' He dropped a kiss on her nose. 'This is a limited offer.'

As Nick filled the car he blew kisses to her through the window and Mel felt tears prickling her eyes.

He liked to tease and clown, and he made jokes about things to hide the true depths of his feelings, but she knew he was entirely serious about marriage. She knew too that she wanted it more than anything else.

She took a lipstick from her bag, found an old envelope stuffed into the glove compartment and wrote 'Yes Please' in large letters. The moment he had disappeared into the garage shop, she propped it up on the windscreen so he'd see it as he came out.

Nick picked up a couple of bars of chocolate and while he waited to be served he glanced at the display of daily papers.

The headline 'Armed and Dangerous' on the front of one of the tabloids attracted his attention, so he picked it up. As the folded paper dropped open, he gasped in horror at the photograph of Edward Manning.

A cold chill ran down his spine. He looked over his shoulder to make sure Mel was still in the car, then read through the story as fast as he could, his heart thumping.

'Can I help you, sir?' the woman behind the counter called out, but he ignored her and continued to read on.

All week he had prevented Mel from seeing the news on television and even buying a paper, by pretending he wanted to cut them off from reality. As his daily phone calls to Magnus had revealed there had been no more sightings of Manning since that night in Wales before they left, he had been lulled into a false sense of security.

The previous afternoon a widow in her early sixties had been shot in the shoulder at an isolated house some ten miles from Bristol. She was discovered by the evening paperboy, lying outside by an old shed. She regained consciousness when the ambulance arrived and was able to tell the police that a man had come to her door demanding that she give him the keys to her car. She had handed them over, guessing that this was the man she'd read about in the papers, but he took all the money in her handbag, ripped out her telephone and shot her anyway. She was trying to get help when she collapsed outside. If it hadn't been for the paperboy she would have bled to death by morning.

Nick's head spun. He didn't know what to do for the best. If he insisted on taking Mel back to Lyme Regis she would be instantly suspicious. Yet how could he risk taking her back to Oaklands?

He paid for his petrol and the chocolate. As he came out of the shop and saw Mel's note on the windscreen, and her grinning face behind it, he was stumped. She was so happy. How could he dash it all by telling her about Manning?

Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself he walked back to the car. 'So you'll marry me?' he said, forcing himself to smile and look normal. 'Well, that's worthy of another celebration. Let's turn round and go back to Lyme Regis?'

'Don't be so ridiculous,' she laughed gleefully, ruffling his hair. 'Your film's on TV tonight. Magnus would be savage if he couldn't watch it with us.'

Nick went cold all over, immediately guessing why she'd insisted on having her hair done that morning, and why she'd bought a new dress earlier in the week. Magnus had arranged a surprise party.

Nick had a straight choice: either tell the truth and see the anxiety and fear come back in her eyes, not to mention disappointing all the guests, or say nothing and go home and just hope the police would be extra vigilant tonight.

'If you insist on going back for tonight, will you at least promise you'll come to London with me tomorrow morning,' he asked. 'I want to buy you a lovely ring.'

'That sounds like a pretty good deal,' she grinned. 'We can have champagne tonight at Oaklands and I can buy some new clothes in London too.'

Mel dropped off to sleep soon after leaving the garage. Nick was glad: it freed him from being forced to make bright conversation. He slowed down, trying to think of some plan. Could he pretend to break down? But he knew that wouldn't work. If she'd promised Magnus they would be back this evening, she'd insist they got there somehow.

Manning was bound to know
Delinquents
was on TV tonight. He might also guess there would be some sort of celebration at Oaklands, and that Mel might be there. But surely no man on the run would risk turning up in a place that the police would be certain to be watching? Perhaps it was really the safest place for her to be.

It was pitch dark when Mel woke up, dark hedges lining the road. 'Where are we?' she asked. Looking at her watch she saw it was half past six.

When he didn't answer she glanced sideways at Nick. He looked a bit strained.

'Are you all right? Shall I drive for a bit?' she asked. 'Or are you having second thoughts about marrying me?'

'Of course not,' he scoffed. 'I was just wondering if Dad would let me share your bed tonight'

'You aren't going to ask him?' she giggled. 'I'd die with embarrassment.'

'Well, he knows we haven't been just holding hands all week,' Nick retorted.

As they drove through Bath just after seven it seemed to Nick that there was an unusually heavy police presence. He spotted four Panda cars in the space of five minutes, and he had a feeling they were doing more than just watching out for drunken hooligans on a Friday night.

As they approached the driveway into Oaklands, Nick saw two more Panda cars parked up on opposite sides of the road, some thirty yards apart. Two uniformed men were standing by the gates, clearly on guard.

'What's going on?' Mel asked, leaning forward in her seat.

Nick thought quickly. 'I expect Magnus has invited Helena tonight and asked them to make sure no fans get in. Unless of course it's got around what a sensation I am,' he added, hoping that would distract her.

As he slowed right down to turn into the drive, the two men stepped out in front of the car flashing torches.

Nick opened the window and stuck his head out. 'I'm Nicholas Osbourne,' he called out. 'With Camellia Norton. Do we have to advance and be recognised?' He offered up a silent frantic prayer that the police wouldn't say anything to alarm Mel.

'You're okay sir.' The policemen backed away, signalling him on. 'We were briefed you were coming. Drive on in.'

'That's a bit heavy,' Mel said suspiciously, turning in her seat to look at Nick as he drove up the drive. 'Are you sure you aren't keeping something back from me?'

Nick was very glad it was so dark, not only because she couldn't see his face, but because by turning to him she'd missed the two policemen on foot with a dog in the woods to her right.

'I suspect it's you keeping things back,' he said glibly. 'Who else is coming tonight aside from Helena? And why did you get your hair done today?'

'I didn't know Helena was coming tonight until you told me. And I got my hair done for your benefit,' she said sweetly.

Nick thought she was almost as good a liar as himself.

The floodlighting around the house was on. Nick hoped Mel had forgotten that Magnus normally only used the front lights during the autumn and winter. 'Good God! It's busy tonight,' he exclaimed, feigning astonishment at the number of parked cars. 'I just hope Dad doesn't rope us two into serving behind the bar?'

Magnus must have been looking out for them, as he opened the front door the moment they got out the car. In the light from the porch he could well have been mistaken for a film star himself. He was wearing a dinner jacket and bow tie and his white hair was slicked back.

'You're looking very dapper, Dad,' Nick called out, taking Mel's arm and moving her swiftly towards the safety of the house. 'I would have thought with all these cars out here you could afford a doorman!'

'I heard you driving in,' Magnus said, coming forward and clamping his arm round Mel's shoulder protectively. Nick saw him glance nervously back into the shadows. 'It's cold out here, let's get you inside.'

Nick noticed how quickly Magnus shut the door and his distracted manner, but Mel was equally distracted, looking towards the sound of voices coming from behind the closed bar door.

'Welcome home.' Magnus kissed Mel's cheek and slapped his son on the shoulder. 'I'm afraid I've got a few pressing things to do before I can relax with you and hear about your holiday. Why don't you nip upstairs and change? By the time you've done that I'll be free and we can have a drink together before the film starts.'

Mel began to walk towards the stairs, but she looked back over her shoulder and grinned at Nick. 'You see!' she said. 1 knew he wouldn't approve of your jeans.'

Magnus waited a second until she'd turned onto the stairs, and caught hold of his son's arm. 'For the first time in my life I hoped you'd be feckless and not turn up tonight,' he said in a low voice. 'Manning shot a woman not fifteen miles from here yesterday.'

'I know, Dad,' Nick whispered. 'We were on the way back when I saw it in a paper. Without telling Mel the truth there was no alternative but to come here. I'll take her to London first thing in the morning.'

'I suppose too you've guessed about the party?'

Nick nodded. 'Yes, it dawned on me when she was so anxious to get back. But Mel doesn't know I've twigged, so I'll fake surprise, for her benefit.' He looked towards the closed bar door. 'I take it they are all in there waiting?'

'There wasn't time to stop them coming,' Magnus sighed deeply, putting one hand up to his head as if the weight of so much responsibility was too much for him. 'But I've done everything possible to make it secure. I cancelled all bookings, closed the club until further notice, and the police are patrolling the grounds. I've even put a double bed in Mel's room so she's got you for protection during the night. As long as everyone stays inside and keeps the windows and doors closed, she will be safe. I don't really believe he'd risk coming here tonight, but I can't help wondering if we should warn her though.'

'No, Dad,' Nick put his arm across his father's shoulders. 'She's so happy and secure right now, we can't shatter that for her. We'll make sure someone's with her at all times. The police are outside. Tell everyone else to be vigilant, but not to say anything to her. Let's make this the happy carefree party she's expecting, for her sake.'

He picked up their cases and raced up the stairs to find Mel standing in her room looking in astonishment at the double divan which had replaced her old single one.

'Dad just told me,' Nick said. 'He said he needed all the other rooms tonight, but I suspect he just didn't want us creeping along passages.'