[Churchminster #3] Wild Things (20 page)

He came over and dropped a perfunctory kiss on her cheek. ‘Night.’

Camilla was left alone in the kitchen, wondering what on earth had just happened between them.

The hairy man looked up from the toilet seat, overalls round his ankles. He was reading a copy of the
Sun
.

‘All right, love?’

‘Oh, I say!’ exclaimed Frances and shut the door quickly. A smell of nether regions curled out distastefully into the corridor. ‘Could you please lock the door in future?’ she called out irritably. ‘You’re not even meant to be in this part of the house, there’s a perfectly good lavatory in the east wing.’

‘Gary’s blocked it up with a massive shit, dirty bugger,’ the man called back cheerfully. ‘Can you get me some more bog paper? You’ve run out.’

Frances tutted and went to tell Mrs Bantry. She’d already found two heavily tattooed men asleep in the library, their feet up on a Regency reading table that had been in the family for over two hundred years. Frances needed to have a word with Dan.

As she approached the east wing, Frances was aware of the utter quiet. For the past few weeks the house had been alive with noise and chatter from the film
crew
, but today everything was strangely silent, bar the intermittent sound of muffled voices upstairs.

At the foot of the sweeping staircase stood a group of the crew, some of whom Frances recognized. They greeted her with hushed voices.

‘What’s happening?’ Frances asked.

One of them, a tiny girl with a chipmunk face, called Ellie, chirped up, ‘It’s a closed set today, Rafe and Sophia are filming a love scene, and she doesn’t want anyone else up there. We’ve all been told to keep quiet.’

Frances had had enough of being told what to do in her own home. ‘Do you know where Dan is? I need to speak to him.’

‘He’s upstairs, in one of the bedrooms,’ Ellie said. ’But really, you can’t go up there …’

‘I can go anywhere I want in my own house, young lady,’ Frances said imperiously as she started up the stairs.

At the top there was another girl, studiously checking her clipboard. When Frances enquired after Dan she pointed at the Blue Room, one of the bedrooms down the corridor.

‘In there,’ she mouthed. ‘But keep your voice down!’ Frances frowned, but walked on quietly. The love scene was obviously taking place in the palatial Red Room, as it had a sign saying ‘Closed Set’ on the door. Knocking on the Blue Room’s door Frances went straight in, without waiting for an answer.

Dan was sitting on an uncomfortable-looking high-backed chair, working away on his BlackBerry. The cavernous room had been turned into a makeshift
office
, with computers and monitors everywhere. A coffee vending machine stood in one corner, while the four-poster bed had mounds of paper, bits of cable and abandoned headphones piled on top of the covers.

Dan jumped up, surprised to see her standing there. ‘Hello, Lady Fraser!’

‘Daniel, I have just found a strange man using my own personal lavatory,’ she said. ‘And yesterday I found two tattooed gentlemen eating fast food in the library. They even left their litter behind for Mrs Bantry to clean up. It really isn’t good enough.’

The locations manager flushed. ‘That’ll be the sparks. I’m sorry, I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.’

‘Sparks?’

‘The electricians, they’re the ones who set up those huge lights you’ve seen. Once their job’s done they have a habit of roaming.’

‘Well, make sure they don’t roam again, please.’

Dan looked contrite. ‘I will, Lady Fraser. I can’t apologize enough.’

‘Apology accepted,’ she said, slightly mollified.

Dan put his BlackBerry down, offering another olive branch. ‘Do you want to see a bit of filming? I’m sure I can sneak you in for a few minutes.’

‘Isn’t it a closed set?’ Frances wasn’t entirely sure it was appropriate for her to go and watch.

‘Rafe and Sophia are behind screens, so you won’t see them,’ Dan assured her. ‘It’s quite fun to see the whole set-up, though.’

Frances’s curiosity got the better of her. ‘If you insist.’

Outside the Red Room Dan put his finger to his lips. ‘We’ll stand at the back for a minute.’ Silently he pushed the door open and Frances followed him in.

It was easy to see why they’d picked this room: with its high vaulted ceiling, four-poster bed and deep red curtains and furnishings, it oozed sensuality and romance. Frances couldn’t see the bed today, however, as the far end of the room had been blocked off with two large screens. Behind it, they could hear the distinctive tones of Wes Prince as he discussed camera angles.

A lone person, who Frances recognized as Sophia’s dresser, stood on their side of the screen, holding a large fluffy dressing gown.

‘It’s only Wes and Pam, plus one cameraman and a sound guy,’ Dan whispered. ‘Love scenes are pretty intimate, so you can imagine why the actors don’t want all the sparks and carpenters watching.’

‘Pan in on Sophia’s face, Keith, we want to catch the emotion,’ Wes instructed someone. ‘OK, start rolling!’

Dan put his finger to his lips, signalling for Frances to keep quiet. A young, female voice could be heard behind the screen: tender, passionate, euphoric in its emotion.

‘Oh, Theodore, my world has been one of shadows and darkness since you left. I never thought I would feel whole again, but now here you are, in as much flesh and blood as I dare to imagine, because the whole thing feels like a dream. My darling! Tell me you’ve come back to me.’

A second voice, masculine yet tender in tone. ‘Only
when
I had lost what I had, did I really know what it meant. It’s only ever been you, Evangeline.’

The intimate exchange brought an unexpected tug at Frances’s heart. She suddenly remembered the raw power of being completely in love, where a simple touch or kiss could bring joy into one’s heart, fill one’s world with vibrant colours. Would she go through her whole life without ever having that again? Frances was aghast to find her eyes filling up.

Suddenly there was an angry shout from downstairs. ‘Where’s my bloody wife?’

Frances quickly blinked the tears away. Ambrose! She heard heavy footsteps up the staircase, but before she could rush out and try to placate him, he stomped in, closely followed by a tail-wagging Sailor.

‘Frances! One of these bloody idiots has parked in front of the Range Rover, I can’t get out.’

‘Ambrose, let’s discuss this
outside
,’ she hissed.

Wes’s satsuma-coloured face popped round the screen, incredulous. ‘What’s going on here?’ He caught sight of Sailor and his eyes widened. ‘Is that a fucking
dog
? Get this lunatic and his mutt out!’

Ambrose shot the director a filthy look. ‘This lunatic and his mutt happen to own Clanfield Hall, so if you don’t keep a civil tongue in your head, I’ll have the whole damn lot of you thrown out!’ His eyes swivelled to a bare portrait-sized space on the wall. ‘And what the dickens have you done with Great-uncle Algie?’

‘Wes?’ Sophia’s voice came from behind the screen. She didn’t sound happy.

As Pam poked her face out, looking startled, Dan
turned
to Frances beseechingly. ‘I’ll get someone to move the van if you can just get him out …’

But as Frances pulled on her husband’s sleeve, the sheepdog shot past them yapping and disappeared behind the screen. There was a huge commotion and the sound of things being knocked over.

‘Get down, you stupid animal!’ Wes Prince shouted. ‘Jesus, stop humping Sophia’s leg!’

Amidst the screaming Frances closed her eyes and wished, just wished she was a million miles away.

Half an hour later, she was still seething. They were in Ambrose’s study, facing each other like two combatants preparing for battle.

‘What in heaven’s name is wrong with you?’ she cried. ‘You can’t just march in and disrupt everything. Dan says they’re going to have to reshoot the whole scene at a huge expense of time and money. Sophia Highforth was so distressed, she’s had to take the rest of the day off.’

Ambrose grunted. ‘Shouldn’t have blocked me in, then. I think you, along with everyone else Frances, seem to have forgotten this is our
home
.’

Frances sighed. ‘You could have found a more civil way of asking them to move!’

His eyes narrowed. ‘For Christ’s sake, you’re the one who invited this circus in.’

Something snapped inside her. ‘Oh, so it’s all my fault,’ she shot back, voice shaking. ‘Have you ever thought, Ambrose, just for
one single second
, that I might not be happy here, either?’

He looked at her, genuinely surprised. ‘What are you on about? I’ve always given you everything you wanted, haven’t I?’

Frances went to open her mouth and thought better of it. ‘Forget it, Ambrose, just forget it.’

He looked at her quizzically. ‘Come on, what is it?’

‘I said, forget it!’

Ambrose paused and then shook his head, as if to say ‘women’. ‘What’s for lunch, then? I told Cook I fancied one of those pheasants the gamekeeper got.’

Frances’s fists had squeezed into tight balls by her sides. ‘If you think I’m spending another moment in your company, Ambrose Fraser, you’ve got another think coming. I’m going for a walk, to get as far away from this sodding place as I can.’

Ambrose watched, open-mouthed, as his normally composed wife stormed out, slamming the door after her.

Chapter 26

ON SATURDAY CALYPSO’S
alarm went off at 8 a.m., but she’d been awake for ages. A gentle breeze was coming in through the window, making the curtains billow out lazily. The weatherman had predicted a lovely day.

Calypso stretched out in bed and put her arm behind her head, thinking. Part of her still couldn’t believe she was going on a proper date with Rafe Wolfe. It seemed so
surreal
, so silly. Her London friends would wet themselves laughing if they found out she was going out with Mr Cheesetastic.

Outside there was a creak on the landing.

‘Is that you Camilla?’ she called out.

The door opened and her sister came in, dressed in her nightie. ‘I was just going to make myself a cup of tea. Do you want one?’

‘Mmm, please.’ Calypso smiled at her. ‘Did I hear Jed go earlier?’

Camilla paused a fraction too long. ‘Yes, he’s had to go to work.’

Calypso knew her sister too well. ‘Is everything OK?’

Camilla leaned against the door frame. ‘Jed seems a bit offish with me,’ she admitted. ‘I’m worried he’s having second thoughts about trying for a baby.’

‘I’m sure he’s not. What makes you think that?’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Camilla sighed. ‘What if he’s not cut out for this domesticity? What if I’ve pressured him into doing something he doesn’t want to?’

‘Bull crap,’ said Calypso. ‘From what you’ve told me, he wants this as much as you do. Have you told him how you’re feeling?’

‘I have brought it up.’

‘And?’

‘He says it’s not that, he’s just tired from work.’

Calypso stretched her arms above her head and yawned. ‘He probably is just tired, Bills, he’s working like a dog at the moment.’

‘I suppose so – he does want to start putting money aside for the baby.’

‘There you go, then! I really wouldn’t read too much into it.’

Her sister’s assured tone cheered Camilla up. Calypso was right, she was putting two and two together and coming up with eight.

‘I didn’t expect you to be awake,’ she said instead. ‘You’re not working today, are you?’

Calypso looked at her. ‘Don’t wet your pants, Bills, but I’m going out with Rafe Wolfe again. He’s picking me up at nine.’

All thoughts about Jed temporarily forgotten,
Camilla’s
mouth stretched into an excited ‘O’. ‘Wow!’

‘Please, don’t make a big deal of it,’ Calypso said grumpily. ‘It’s not like I’m spending the day boating with Dave Grohl.’ She had long lusted after the Foo Fighters’ front man.

‘If you say so,’ replied Camilla. Her eyes widened. ‘Ooh, I wonder where he’s taking you!’

Calypso threw a cushion at her and Camilla ducked, laughing.

‘Piss off and make my tea!’ Calypso said. ‘And
don’t
tell anyone about it, or the whole village will be in uproar!’

At 9 a.m. precisely there was a knock on the front door. Before Calypso could get there, her sister was opening it.

‘Hello, Rafe!’

Rafe stood on the doorstep, casually sexy in a V-neck white T-shirt and petrol-blue slacks. He took off his Ray-Bans. ‘Hello, Camilla.’

Her sister appeared behind her, in a waft of Agent Provocateur.

Rafe smiled at Calypso, taking in the striped minidress and knee-high gladiator sandals. ‘You look nice.’

Camilla stepped aside. ‘Well, I’ll let you get on. Have fun!’

‘Are you going to tell me where we’re going?’ Calypso asked, as they buckled up in his Porsche.

Rafe started the engine. ‘All good things come to those who wait.’

Calypso sat back and wondered if her and Rafe’s
idea
of a good time would be similar. To her relief she hadn’t seen any golf clubs on the back seat.

The weather report had been right. Under the pale-blue morning skies, a patchwork of delightful hues stretched as far as the eye could see. It looked like Mother Nature had thrown a quilt over the landscape: topsy-turvy green fields, daisy-yellow rape flowers rippling in the breeze. Calypso leaned back against the headrest and drank it all in. She’d been all over the world, but there really was nowhere as spectacular as home on a sunshine-filled day.

Rafe was obviously thinking the same. ‘Beautiful isn’t it?’ he remarked as they sped past the apple-coloured hedgerows. ‘That’s the one thing I miss about living in LA, all this.’

‘You wouldn’t be saying that in the middle of winter, when it’s all muddy and shit.’

‘Ah, but then you have long walks muffled up and pub lunches in front of the fire.’

Calypso picked a stray thread off her dress. ‘I’d still rather be hiking round the Hollywood Hills in seventy degrees. You’d die of exposure before you got to the front gate here in December.’

Rafe laughed. ‘Maybe.’ He glanced down at her long bare legs, crossed messily in the footwell. ‘Do you wear that stuff all year round?’