Dirty Minds (22 page)

‘And what is it?’

‘You’ll have to wait till tonight.’

‘Ooh, it’s going to be such fun.’ Suzy really did appear to have got over her unpleasant experience of the night before.

Ros was sitting at a table alone. Tom was acting as waiter. He brought the tray over and unloaded the two silver teapots, tea in one, hot water in the other. Beside them, he placed the porcelain cups and saucers and the milk jug.

‘Not so classy after all, this place.’ He was grinning. ‘No chocolate Hobnobs. All they’ve got are these homemade chocolate chip cookies and a Victoria sponge that is still warm.’ He sat down beside her. ‘Shall I be mother?’

She nodded. She was happy to sit back and watch him. He poured the tea and passed her cup across. ‘
Et voilà
. By the way, I have been meaning to ask, did you get me a costume for tonight?’

‘Did I get you a costume? You bet. I had a whale of a time looking through all sorts, till I found just the right thing for you. It might appear a bit tame but it’s ever so elegant. You may be surprised to know that I found my own costume almost immediately. Yours took a lot longer.’

‘So where did you find 1920s clothes?’

She leant towards him and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘This is strictly between the two of us. I have a very good friend at a certain famous television station, whose name I cannot utter, for fear of legal action. Their costume wardrobe is absolutely amazing.’

‘So, what are the costumes like?’

She laid a finger on the tip of his nose. ‘Patience, Thomas, patience.’

Penny sat down alongside Tiffany. ‘Luca having a lie down?’

Tiffany nodded. ‘And Scott?’

‘He should be. He’s exhausted. But, for now, he’s outside getting our broken-down hire car sorted.’ She took a mouthful of tea. She looked across the table. ‘Tiffany, can I ask you something? Something ever so personal?’

‘Of course.’

‘Since this erotic book thing started, is it just me, or are you also feeling amazingly … um,’ she had to pause, while she found the right word, ‘…horny?’

To her surprise, Tiffany blushed red and nodded her head vigorously. She lowered her voice to reply. ‘I’m so glad you said that. I really didn’t know if it was just me going batty. I have been so unbelievably aroused for weeks now; ever since I got Tom’s first letter. I love Luca to bits, but I haven’t wanted to make love to him all day and all night before, ever.’

Penny smiled broadly, the same sense of relief flooding through her. ‘I’m here with Scott and it’s … well, last night was our first time together. And I just can’t keep my hands off him. The poor boy must think I’m a nymphomaniac.’

‘From the expression on his face all day today, I don’t think he’s complaining. Tell me, is he younger than you?’

‘Mmm, yes, almost seven years. Does that make me a horrible old woman?’

‘Of course it doesn’t. Try asking Wayne Rooney.’ They both giggled like schoolgirls. ‘But, it’s amazing. There’s you and Scott, and Luca and me. We’ve all worked out that Tom and Ros are head over heels in love with each other. Now Janet seems to have swept the old fashionista off his feet. That’s almost all of us.’

‘Don’t write off Jimmy and Suzy.’ Penny glanced across at the young couple. ‘There might be more romance there. But you’re right it is amazing. We haven’t written a single word of this book yet, and here we all are, at it like Easter bunnies.’

‘I’ve always had a soft spot for bunny rabbits.’

Close of play was at 5.30. Tom had intended carrying on until six, but Ros had diplomatically reminded him that they all had a costume dinner coming up. Preparations had to be made. He relented, although the final session had been less productive than he had hoped. The tour of the grounds had taken longer than anticipated, although the result of that was that they all now had a better idea of where the action could take place. In the little time left to them, their plot discussions had been inconclusive.

‘Well, it looks as though we have still got a way to go on the storyline. We’ll need to define that tomorrow. They say the best plots can be written on the back of a postcard, if not a postage stamp. I suggest you each take half a sheet of paper and see what you can come up with before tomorrow’s session. Just one paragraph, say, a hundred words max. We’ll run through them first thing. We’ve only got a few hours left in the morning to make the final decision.’

He collected his papers together and remembered something else. ‘Janet has kindly allowed herself to be bullied into giving us a little presentation on the 1920s. So, let’s meet in the usual place at ten o’clock. Thank you, well done, and enjoy yourselves this evening.’

As he walked back through the dining room, he was surprised to see all the tables had been removed, apart from one large one, set up at one end. The carpet had been lifted from the centre of the room, revealing a fine old parquet floor.

‘It’s sprung, you know.’ Alfonso was sitting in one corner, watching them come through. He was wearing jeans and a sweater. No doubt his 1920s attire was waiting for him in his private quarters. In response to Tom’s raised eyebrow, he expanded. ‘It’s the original sprung dance floor from the turn of the last century. The guests at your house party would have been able to dance the night away. I thought we might like to emulate them.’

‘What a splendid idea.’ Tom was not the world’s most confident dancer but he was sure his guests would love it. ‘Have you seen Janet? She was looking for you.’

Immediately Alfonso straightened up. ‘I was waiting for her here. Maybe she has taken the other stairs to my personal quarters. If you would excuse me, Tom?’ He turned on his heels and hurried off.

There was no doubt. Alfonso was hooked, landed, gutted and grilled.

Tom headed for the study.

Melissa was sitting at the computer. Beside her was a note-pad, covered in jottings.

‘You thinking of joining the writing team?’ Tom gave her a smile.

‘No, I’ve been doing Janet’s homework for her. Was that Alfonso I just saw racing past?’

‘Yes, he thinks Janet might be waiting for him in his private apartment.’

‘He may well be right. I think he’ll find he’s going to get more than a cup of herbal tea tonight.’ Melissa grinned in conspiratorial fashion. ‘Isn’t it amazing? Your book seems to be an aphrodisiac. Everybody’s caught the bug.’

Tom tried not to look embarrassed. He also wasn’t sure you could catch an aphrodisiac. ‘I’m afraid, if that’s the case, you are looking a bit left out of things, Melissa.’

In response she beckoned to him to lean closer. ‘Can you keep a secret, Tom?’

‘Mostly, yes, but I’m afraid Ros has a way of getting through my guard.’

‘Didn’t I tell you?’ Ignoring his discomfiture, she carried on with her secret. ‘I’ve caught it too.’ Tom’s expression was quizzical. ‘It was your book, and me talking about all these naughty sexy things, that got me and my husband back into bed together again.’

‘Is that so?’ He wasn’t quite sure how to react to such personal information. ‘Well, I’m very pleased for you. So why isn’t he here now?’

‘I couldn’t bring him. He wants to have three-in-a-bed sex with me and Janet, and she doesn’t. Come to think of it, I don’t either.’

Tom was at a loss for words. Luckily, at that moment, he saw Jimmy making his way towards them. ‘Well, that’s good to hear, Melissa. At least I think so.’

Tom saw that Jimmy wanted a word, so he followed him to the bar.

‘Tom, can I get you a drink?’

‘I won’t, if you don’t mind, Jimmy. I think the wines tonight are likely to be pretty special. But don’t let me stop you.’

‘No, I’m fine, Tom, thanks. Can I ask you something? It’s a bit personal?’

Tom steered him to a corner table and they both sat down.

‘Shoot.’

‘Would it be frowned upon if I were to woo Suzy?’

Tom wasn’t sure he had caught the words fully. ‘Sorry, Jimmy, you’ll have to give me that again. I didn’t hear you properly.’

‘Would it be all right with you if I were to woo Suzy?’

So he had heard it right. ‘Jimmy, where did you get a verb like “woo” from? Is this just you slipping into 1920s character?’

Jimmy grinned. ‘I looked it up. It was a choice of “woo” or “court”. I don’t like either of them. I wouldn’t normally use words like that. In fact, I wouldn’t ever use words like that. It’s just that I didn’t know how else to say it.’

‘To say what?’

‘I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I’d like to try and get off with her, you know, make a move on her, chat her up, try to pick her up. Do you get my drift?’

Tom certainly did. ‘Jimmy, it’s your life. You do all the wooing you want. Just one thing,’ he was suddenly more serious, ‘in some ways, she’s a very naïve and trusting girl. Try not to hurt her.’

An expression of distress crossed the young man’s face. ‘I’d never do anything like that. I’m not like Clinton, my flatmate, you know. I haven’t really been out with many girls. I’m always looking for the one that’s perfect for me. And there aren’t many of them around.’

‘You and me both, Jimmy.’

‘But you’ve found your soul mate.’ He saw Tom’s expression. ‘She’s perfect for you. And you for her. We’re all rooting for you. Tonight’s the night, eh?’

Tom began to realise that his romance with Ros was not only public knowledge but also being closely studied. ‘Thanks Jimmy, thanks a lot. I think you and Suzy will make a lovely couple.’ He clapped him on the shoulder and headed back to see if the laptop was free.

Penny and Tiffany were sitting in the lounge, drinking tea and chatting.

‘Hi girls, what, no men?’ He was not prepared for their response. They both disintegrated into fits of laughter. ‘Is it something I’ve said?’

At that moment Ros appeared. Penny and Tiffany were still giggling. She came over to Tom’s side. ‘So what are you two giggling at?’

‘We’ve just been talking about the way the book has been breeding love and sex among all those involved with it.’

‘That’s funny. Jimmy’s just been telling me the same thing.’ Tom turned towards Ros. ‘Do you feel that too?’

His mouth was only inches from hers. She could feel his breath on her face. She fought the temptation to glue her lips to his and never let go.

‘Wonderful things, books. Specially if you read in bed.’ She gave him a big smile, then stepped back to give him space. ‘Well, if it’s having this kind of result on the writers, here’s hoping the readers love it even more.’

Tom gave a nervous laugh and tried to sound serious. ‘Never underestimate the power of the written word.’

Ros looked at her watch. ‘Now, Mr Marshall, if you would be kind enough to accompany me upstairs, I would like to show you your costume.’

When Tom, scrubbed and changed, arrived back downstairs, he was amazed to see a band setting up at the end of the dining room. A grand piano had been manhandled in from somewhere; alongside it was what looked like a five-piece band, consisting of piano, drums, double bass, violin and saxophone. The members of the band were all men, and all dressed in double-breasted dinner jackets, complete with wing collars. The name written on the drum was THE 1920S BLUES BAND.

‘I didn’t realise the blues was about that long ago.’

Tom turned round to be greeted by a black Charlie Chaplin. Jimmy looked a picture, in the unmistakable baggy trousers, shapeless jacket, bowler hat and Hitler moustache.

‘Jimmy, I mean Charlie, that’s some get up you’re wearing.’

‘You don’t look too bad yourself.’

Tom was wearing a rather fine, midnight blue tuxedo. He sported a white waistcoat, wing collar and black tie. Ros had even managed to find him a pair of highly polished patent leather shoes. He was still puzzling over how she had got his shoe size right. He actually felt comfortable in the clothes. Her measuring must have been very accurate. However, he still had no idea as to what she would be wearing. She had shooed him out of her room once she had handed over his costume.

‘Now can I buy you that drink, Tom?’

‘That’s a very kind offer, Jimmy, but it’s all on the house this weekend. Have you looked over there?’

A bar had been set up in the corner of the room. Behind it stood one of the waiters, resplendent in black tuxedo, a white cloth over his arm. Alfonso had opted for a tailored white dinner jacket. He was sitting on a bar stool, his eyes glued to the door. He was sipping from a tall Martini glass.

‘Come on, Jimmy, let’s see what they have got.’

‘Good evening gentlemen.’ Alfonso stood up. ‘Mr Chaplin, I am honoured that you have come to our little soirée. Tommaso, you look very fine.’

‘That tuxedo would put 007 to shame, Alfonso.’

‘Spies? I have met a few in my time. Without exception, I found them to be very poorly dressed.’

‘Good evening, sir, and to you, sir.’ The barman was very attentive. ‘Would you like me to mix you a Martini? I am assured they were all the rage in the 1920s. Alternatively a glass of champagne, perhaps.’

Tom and Jimmy opted for champagne. While they were sipping their drinks, the band struck up. Their first tune was ‘St Louis Blues’. The music did the trick of summoning further guests to the party.

Luca and Tiffany appeared as Al Capone and a dance hall girl. He really looked the part from head to toe: a magnificent false scar down his cheek and white spats on his shoes. Tiffany made a very sexy gangster’s moll, with high heels and red feather boa. She had chosen a skin-coloured dress that revealed a considerable amount of her. Luca clearly couldn’t keep his eyes, or his hands, off her.

He snarled convincingly at Tom.

‘You toucha ma girl, ah breaka you face.’

‘Certainly, Mr Capone. My, what quaint language these colonials use.’

Tiffany squealed as she saw Jimmy, aka Charlie Chaplin. ‘That’s brilliant, Jimmy.’

‘De liddle guy with de bowler hat gonna geddit.’ Luca was really getting into his stride.

Tiffany came over and studied Tom’s outfit. ‘Very smart, Tom. You look like you own the place.’

‘I wish I did.’

‘De limey wid de tux is gonna geddit too.’ Luca slipped briefly out of character. ‘Can I get anybody a drink?’

‘Some of de fizz, please babe.’ Tiffany was also honing her gangland linguistic skills.

‘So, Tiffany, I’ve been meaning to compliment you on your demo piece.’ Tom saw her beam at the flattery. ‘I thought it was beautifully written. Your butler and his lady were touchingly portrayed. Where did you get the inspiration?’

‘Luca and I had a weekend break in a hotel near Oxford a few weeks ago.’ She suddenly looked unusually embarrassed. ‘I suppose, if I’m honest, we spent most of it in bed. You know, with three little kids at home, we don’t get a lot of chance to be alone otherwise. Well, it was the weekend that I had to do your demo piece, so I decided to set it there, in that hotel.’

‘What she’s not telling you, Tom, is how much research we did.’ Luca had returned with drinks. ‘We knew your book was going to need some kinky sex. Neither of us had any experience of anything like that.’ He glanced across at his wife. ‘So I went shopping a day or two later. Can I tell him, Tiff?’

‘Tell him what you like, Luca. This afternoon I told them all you spanked my bottom.’

‘Ah, right. I see.’ Now it was Luca’s turn to look uncomfortable. ‘Well, Tom, the result of my shopping trip was the same as the result of the spanking. She didn’t like it.’

‘Yes, but Luca, it didn’t fit.’ Tiffany looked across at Tom, who was beginning to regret launching them onto this subject. ‘He bought me a black PVC suit with zips all over it.’

‘On the packet it looked very sexy.’

‘Well, maybe, but not when it took me a quarter of an hour to squeeze into it. And then it all but stopped the circulation in my legs.’

Luca was laughing now at the memory. ‘She got cramp. I won’t tell you what we were doing at the time.’

‘No, you most certainly won’t Luca Rossi.’ She could see that Tom was embarrassed at these revelations. ‘But, anyway, Tom, I decided that I wasn’t cut out for kinky sex. So that’s why I went for what I have now come to think of as traditional MF sex.’

Tom suddenly saw Jimmy make a run for the door. Suzy had just come in, wearing a simple red dress. A long double string of pearls hung round her neck. She looked delightful. She burst into fits of laughter when she saw Jimmy. His reward for his choice of costume was a hug and a kiss.

Right behind her was Ros. She was wearing a navy blue dress, considerably longer than the black skirt of the previous night, but still short. She too had a pearl necklace, along with a headband, sporting a feather. High heels and a feather boa completed the ensemble. With the high heels, it looked as if her legs went on forever. She was wearing dark red lipstick and long pearl earrings. She looked enchanting.

Casting aside his natural reticence, Tom strode over and extended his hand. She reached out theatrically and took it. He gave her a tug and she spun into his arms, ending up tight against his chest, one foot in the air. He wrapped his other arm around her, realising to his delight that her back was bare to the waist. He looked into her eyes.

‘Haven’t we met somewhere before?’

‘Me, I never forget a face.’ She was well into the spirit of it. ‘In your case, I’ll make an exception.’ She smiled, closed her eyes and kissed him. He kissed her back. He felt his heart bound.

Conscious of the watching audience, he stepped back and released his hold on her. ‘You are looking absolutely gorgeous.’

She reached into some secret recess amid the fringes of her dress and pulled out a tissue. ‘You might like to clean some of the lippie off. You look like your face has been in a nasty road accident. How’s mine?’

‘As beautiful as ever, in a sort of pink and red raspberry ripple way.’ He used the tissue and passed it back. He supervised her own clean-up operation until they were both back to normal.

A chorus of oohs and a wolf whistle from Tiffany greeted the appearance of Penny and Scott. He was dressed in the uniform of a British Army Captain, complete with jodhpurs, Sam Browne belt and polished leather riding boots. He now sported a bristling moustache and an impressive row of medals on his chest. Beside him, Penny was wearing a very slinky full-length gold ball gown. Her arms were bare and her cleavage inspiring. A long cigarette holder completed the look. The overall result was that Scottie looked older than his years and Penny younger than hers. They made a stunning couple.

Alfonso did a tour of the guests, shaking hands, kissing cheeks and inspecting cleavage. His eyes continued to flick back and forth to the door. At last, his perseverance was rewarded. Melissa and Janet made their entrance. They looked like something out of a Hollywood film, as indeed the costumes were.

‘Blimey.’ Ros was impressed. ‘Those look like real pearls.’

The long ball gowns were supremely elegant, sparkling with pearls and glittering gems. Melissa was in silver, Janet in jet black. They stopped on the threshold and basked in the approval of their peers. At a pre-arranged signal from Alfonso, the band launched into a spirited rendering of ‘Oh you beautiful girl’ There was an immediate chorus of catcalls and complaints from the other girls.

‘Unfair, unfair.’

‘The votes were rigged.’

‘How come we didn’t get our own tune?’

Alfonso, blissfully deaf to the protests, slipped across the dance floor to greet the new arrivals. He gallantly took and kissed Melissa’s hand, and then repeated the procedure with Janet. There was a dramatic pause, during which the two of them stared into each other’s eyes. Ros caught Tom’s eye. Yes, there was no doubt about it. It had to be love.

Luca picked his glass off the bar and held it up. Reverting to normal speak, he raised his voice. ‘A toast. Come on guys, a toast. To our host and hostess.’

There was a ripple of agreement, and then a chorus of voices repeated, ‘To our host and hostess.’

Janet beamed back at them across the dance floor. Alfonso did not turn round. He only had eyes for her. She returned her attention to him once more and raised her glass in his direction. He gave a contented sigh and raised his glass in turn. Then, as everybody looked on in shocked silence, it slipped out of his grasp. Ten pairs of eyes watched it fall, as if in slow motion. It hit the floor and shattered, spraying champagne over his shoes. Oblivious to what had happened, Alfonso clutched his left arm. He bent forward in pain, his face looking up, his mouth gasping, unable to speak. Under the horrified gaze of those assembled there, he crashed to the floor.

Jimmy was the first to react. ‘He’s having a heart attack. Call an ambulance. Now!’ He ran across the room and manhandled the Italian onto his back. The music tailed off into silence. Mr Jeffers, the maître d’hôtel, disappeared into the office to make the call. The others came rushing up, crowding round.

‘Stay back, I need space.’ Jimmy’s voice carried unexpected authority.

Melissa and Ros caught hold of Janet, who was rooted to the spot, her face a picture of horror. Tom knelt down beside Alfonso. He helped Jimmy pull off the tuxedo and the starched white shirt, exposing the Italian’s suntanned chest. Alfonso had his eyes closed, his right arm crushed against his chest, as if trying to tear himself open. His breathing was erratic, gasping and very laboured. Strange moans escaped from his mouth. He was unconscious.

Jimmy looked across at Tom. ‘You ever do CPR?’ He shook his head. Jimmy hardly paused. ‘I have. Can you get to his head? See that his mouth stays open, and his tongue isn’t blocking his windpipe.’

With that, he tore off his bowler hat, followed by the baggy jacket. He rolled up his sleeves. Placing first one hand, and then the other, together on Alfonso’s chest, he started pumping violently downwards. He followed a rapid rhythm, humming to himself to keep the beat.

He looked across at Tom. ‘Check his pulse, will you?’

Tom reached down and grabbed Alfonso’s wrist. He pressed his fingers tightly against him, but felt nothing. He looked across at Jimmy and shrugged.

‘His throat. Put your fingers against his throat.’

Tom did as instructed. The result was the same. ‘No pulse.’ He tried to keep his voice low, but in the unnatural silence, everybody heard. Janet dropped her head in anguish. Jimmy refused to be phased.

‘That doesn’t mean anything. We’ve just got to keep on pumping till the paramedics get here. That way, the blood still gets to his brain. They can restart the heart when they get here.’

Tom hoped he was right.

‘I’m going to need somebody to take over from me in a bit. We’ve got to keep the rhythmic pumping going, but it’s hard work.’ He was already panting. ‘Watch what I’m doing, Tom. You’ll have to do the same.’

Mr Jeffers pushed through the crowd with the news that an ambulance would be there in ten minutes.

‘That’s good. I was afraid we’d be stuck for hours out here in the country.’

Tom looked across at Jimmy. Sweat was running down his face by now. He shrugged off his dinner jacket and rolled up his sleeves. ‘Time to swap over, Jim?’

‘OK.’ Careful not to interrupt the rhythm, Tom slipped his hands onto Alfonso’s chest and took over. Jimmy watched critically for a few moments. ‘That’s good, Tom. You can thump him a bit harder if you like. Even if you break a rib, it’s better than letting him die.’

Janet gave a little moan, and abandoned herself against Melissa’s shoulder. Ros found a couple of chairs and sat the two of them down.

Jimmy was still checking on Tom, as he waited for his own pulse to slow down. ‘Try humming a tune or something. You need a good fast pace, and a steady one. I know, I’ve got an idea.’ He stood up and called across to the members of the band, who were looking on helplessly. ‘Can you give us a tune that’s good and fast? We need about a hundred beats to the minute, say one and a half per second.’

They picked up their instruments once more and had a quick powwow. A few moments later, the drummer started up. He set up a fast beat and looked across at Jimmy for approval.

‘That’s great. Keep it up.’

Gradually the rest of the band joined in. Before long they were playing super fast versions of a selection of old blues numbers. In other circumstances it would have sounded fantastic. As it was, Tom barely noticed. He was dripping with perspiration and only too pleased to hand over to Jimmy for another spell. They changed over twice more before the ambulance arrived.

A pair of paramedics was ushered in and took control. Tom and Jimmy were relieved to let them get on with it. Both of them were bathed in sweat and panting. The barman appeared at their shoulders with glasses of water. They drank gratefully.

‘If you would like something a bit stronger, sir?’

Tom pointed at Jimmy. ‘Give him whatever he wants. He’s done a great job. I expect I’m going to be driving, so I’ll stick to water. Oh, and give the band whatever they want to drink. They’ve done really well.’ He turned back to Jimmy and clapped him on the shoulders. ‘You were amazing, Jimmy. Where did you learn to do that?’