Lacybourne Manor (59 page)

“Told you it would work,”
Marian whispered somewhat smugly to Phoebe and Mags.

It was at this point that
Tamara charged forward.

And her intent was clear.

It was going to be a
catfight.

Sibyl had never been in a fight
in her life (if you didn’t count the hair-pulling fights she had
with Scarlett as a child… and as a teenager… and once in their
twenties).

There was no way to avoid it,
Sibyl knew, and with nothing for it she braced for impact.

Except, the oldies had been in
preparation for leaving so some of them were upright and most of
them had carrier bags.

To the unpractised eye, these
facts would seem harmless.

And therefore Tamara vastly
underestimated her adversary’s allies.

Two steps into the room, Mrs.
Griffith put out her new (steel) cane, tripping Tamara.

This would have been enough and
Tamara would have gone (and actually started to go) flying,
however, at the same time, Marianne heaved out her carrier bag,
losing hold of it as its momentum grew with its weight so it went
flying toward Tamara, hitting her smack in the chest. With an awful
grunt of pain and surprise, Tamara fell backwards instead,
completely stunned and unable to catch herself, landing flat on her
back.

To this, Gilbert forged
(slowly) into action and threw himself on Tamara to hold her down
(or actually, gingerly got down on his knees and then fell forward
on top of her).

In an effort to pin her on the
ground and also not be outdone, one of the other oldies dropped her
carrier bag on Tamara’s right leg, another on her left and slowly,
but surely, Tamara (and Gilbert) were being buried under the
considerable weight of carrier bags.

“Jesus,” Rick breathed from
behind Sibyl, finally arriving on the scene and watching the Attack
of the Old Age Pensioners as Kyle jogged in through the sliding
doors the other way, skidding to a halt at the sight.

“Stop!” Kyle shouted and
immediately all the pensioners ceased their vengeful activities and
moved back.

“I’ll call the police.” Phoebe
fumbled in her bag for her mobile.

“I’ve already done it,” Tina
murmured from her new place beside Sibyl.

Mags, Phoebe and Marian joined
Sibyl and Tina and they stood watching as Kyle helped Gilbert up.
Tamara, who was struggling to pull herself out from under the
carrier bags, was hauled out none-too-gently by a stony-faced Rick.
Rick ripped the gun viciously from her hand and rather alarmingly
(in Sibyl’s opinion), handed it to Mrs. Griffith. Luckily, Mrs.
Griffith took it between thumb and forefinger, a look of distaste
wrinkling her nose and hurled it into the seat of one of Colin’s
plush, new chairs.

This, Rick knew, he would never
live down – to have the person he was supposed to be protecting
defended by a slew of oldies was just too much. He found himself,
not for the first time, lamenting the day he took this job.

Unfortunately, now Tamara
was angry
and
humiliated and this was not a good combination.
Once she got to her feet, with Rick’s strong hand holding her
exactly where she was, she whirled (as best she could, nearly
pinned to the spot) woodenly toward Sibyl.

“
Why wouldn’t you
just
go
away?
” she shouted madly, scowling at
Sibyl. “Colin is mine!”

“Colin?” Marianne hacked.

“Sibyl’s man,” Mrs. Griffith
answered.

“Oh yes.” Marianne nodded. “I
remember him, he’s tall.”

“
He is
not
her
man,” Tamara stormed. “He’s
mine
.” She struggled
(unsuccessfully) against Rick’s hold on her with her glare
steadfastly aimed at Sibyl. “I waited years for him to notice
me.
Years!
And when he finally did, it took me ages to get him where I
wanted him. I was so close, so damned
close
. I worked so hard and
then you stroll in and he instantly forgot me. It was like I never
even existed!”

“I wish I could forget her but
I don’t think I ever will,” Tina mumbled.

Tamara kept
ranting.
“I kept warning you, I shot your
dog, tore up your house, made threatening phone calls. But you just
would… not… go…
away!
”

“Of course she wouldn’t just go
away,” Gilbert put in at this juncture. “They’re supposed to be
together. Don’t you read the papers?”

“
You
shot
her
dog?
” Mrs.
Griffith’s eyes had narrowed ominously at the very idea of anyone
hurting an animal.

“He was okay, Mrs. Griffith,”
Sibyl assured the older lady quickly before her cane had a chance
to be put back into action.

“Enough,” Rick growled, his
patience at an end. He dragged Tamara without apparent effort
kicking and spitting down the length of the Day Centre. Without
another word, he threw Tamara into Sibyl’s office, followed her and
slammed the door.

Everyone stared at the door for
several moments and then jumped when they heard Mags.

“
Well! I guess that’s
that,” Mags stated with a sliding clap as if she was cleaning off
her hands after a messy task even though she hadn’t done a thing.
Then, as if they had all not just witnessed something
entirely
out of the ordinary, she suggested, “Let’s get these
carrier bags sorted,” and she bustled forward with Phoebe to help
the oldies claim their bags.

Marian did not go to help Mags,
Phoebe and the oldies. Instead, she placed her hand on Sibyl’s
forearm and peered closely into the younger woman’s eyes, “Are you
all right, dear?”

Sibyl turned dazedly to
Marian.

“
I think so,” she
whispered and then continued incredulously, “Did you
see
that?”
Her eyes cleared and they were shining brightly. “The dart didn’t
even touch me just…” She made a loud “ping” noise, combining it
with a quick slap of her fingers against her thumbs and an
endearing blink and then she carried on, “like I was encased in
invisible armour. Marian, you are the greatest witch ever! I cannot
believe it’s all over!”

Sibyl pulled Marian to her for
a fierce hug and kissed her cheek.

“
I can’t wait to tell
Colin,” she enthused and then her attention was turned and she
needed to rush forward to mediate the carrier bag organisation as
it appeared to be becoming somewhat confused with the situation
escalating rapidly as oldies confusedly claimed other oldie’s bags
or, at least, what the others
thought
were their
bags.

* * * * *

Marian watched as Sibyl, her
mother and Colin’s mother sorted out Sibyl’s charges.

That was too
easy,
she thought as she heard the police
sirens approaching The Centre.

Something wasn’t right, Marian
knew, she would have sensed the dark soul in the young woman the
moment she met her the night Sibyl and Colin started their
challenging journey.

Marian felt a sense of
disquiet, knowing, somehow, it was not over.

“Are you all right, Mrs.
Byrne?” Tina asked her, still standing quietly at Marian’s side,
wisely choosing not to enter what had now become a carrier bag
melee.

“Yes, dear, fine,” Marian
answered distractedly but Tina kept watching her, not believing a
word she said.

* * * * *

Colin sat at the head of the
dining room table. He had pushed his chair back with a slight tilt
to the left, put an ankle on his opposite knee and he was now
resting his elbows against his abdomen, his fingers linked and his
chin resting thoughtfully against them. The dishes carrying the
remains of his mother’s heavy treacle pudding with custard littered
the tabletop.

Sibyl sat to his left, her bowl
pushed forward, her forearms bent at the elbows and resting on the
edge of the table, her head on them. Her face was hidden from view,
buried in her arms and her hair, partially (but not competently)
held up in a clip, fell all over her shoulders and down her
back.

And those shoulders were
shaking uncontrollably with hilarity.

Phoebe and Mags sat opposite
her, his mother’s whole body was bouncing up and down in her chair
with the force of her uncontained laughter.

Marian, Colin noted with
interest, sat next to Sibyl and her face was oddly blank.

“And then, Gilbert dropped to
his knees, although I wouldn’t call it a ‘drop’ so much as a
‘cautious descent’. Then he… he…” Although Colin had heard it
earlier from Rick, Mags was relating the story about what happened
at the Day Centre and found, not for the first time, she could no
longer continue as her cackling got the better of her. These last
words sent both Phoebe and Sibyl into fresh shouts of laughter.

Although all three women
thought this was the height of entertainment, Colin did not find it
the least bit amusing. In fact, he found it supremely annoying, not
their amusement but that afternoon’s escapade.

His eyes slid to Marian who,
feeling his gaze, moved hers to him. She shook her head and offered
him a weak smile.

With a great jolt, Sibyl flew
upright.

“I can’t take any more.” Tears
of mirth were streaming down her face. “I’m going to do the
dishes.”

She collected the dishes while
Phoebe offered help and scurried out of the dining room behind
Sibyl.

“Oh Colin,” Mags wiped under
her eyes as she stood, “I wish you were there,” then she followed
the other two out of the room.

Colin leaned further back into
his chair, dropping his hands and turned to Marian.

“You seem not to share in their
enjoyment of the events of the afternoon.”

Marian shook her head
slowly.

“Why?” he pressed.

She seemed to weigh her answer
and finally said, “They find it so amusing because, for weeks,
they’ve lived on fear and nerves. They’re finding release. What I
saw today was a number of people who adore Sibyl and would do
anything for her. I don’t find that funny at all, I find it deeply
touching.”

Colin agreed silently but knew
she was not done therefore he prompted, “And?”

She regarded him warily then
she said on a heavy sigh, “I know you won’t believe me, didn’t
believe me in the first place, but that woman they caught today was
not the dark soul. I still think you need to be careful. I think
the dark soul is still out there and wants to hurt you and
Sibyl.”

Colin studied the woman a
moment, nodded gravely then stood.

She was correct, indeed, he
didn’t believe her.

What he knew, however, was that
she believed. Even though he did not want her to be concerned
further, he had enough respect for her to allow her that.

And, there was something so
deadly serious, so intent, rather than dramatic and overblown,
about the way she spoke, that it gave him pause.

“I believe I need a drink,
something a hell of a lot stronger than wine. Would you care to
join me?” he asked politely.

Marian stood too, he offered
her his arm and with a startled smile at his gallant gesture, she
took it.

They walked to the library and
as they went she kept talking, “Even if you don’t believe me, if
you think it’s over, will you promise to still be careful, still
–”

“I’ll always be careful when it
comes Sibyl, nothing’s going to harm her,” Colin assured the older
woman. “Not even the messes she gets herself into.”

This, finally, made Mrs. Byrne
laugh and they entered the library.

* * * * *

Colin was quietly furious and
trying very hard not to show it.

He had spent thousands of
pounds on a small army of investigators and security experts, as
well as a bodyguard, only to have Tamara felled by Sibyl’s
Pensioner Posse.

And this was
after
Tamara had shot a tranquilliser dart at Sibyl. One that,
reportedly, magically glanced of Sibyl and fell to the
ground.

What Sibyl, their mothers and
Mrs. Byrne did not know was that the police had informed Colin that
the dart was loaded with enough tranquilliser that, if it had
penetrated, for Sibyl’s height and weight, it could have killed her
with an overdose.

This fact, fortunately, would
mean Tamara was facing a prison sentence. She wouldn’t merely get a
slap on the wrist for vandalism or stalking.

This fact also meant that
today, if things had gone any differently, he would not have been
watching Sibyl struggling with mirth at the dining room table.
Instead, he would have been dealing with her grieving mother, his
grieving mother and the certainty of a life yawning before him
without Sibyl in it.

No, Colin didn’t feel that
anything about that day’s events was the least bit humorous.

Much later, after several
whiskies had soothed his nerves if not his temper, he lay on top of
the coverlet on the bed, propped up on his elbow and watched as
Sibyl brushed her hair. Mallory had long since collapsed with the
effort of sleeping all day and was sprawled out on the floor by
Colin’s side of the bed. The cat was somewhere in the house,
probably stalking mice or shadows or whatever cats did when their
humans weren’t around. Sibyl stood in the centre of the room
wearing one of his t-shirts and babbling.

“
I cannot
believe
it’s all over. You would not
believe
how relieved I am.” She
tossed her brush on a dresser and whirled toward him then walked to
the bed. “Mags is going home. She’s responsible for refreshments at
her next coven meeting and she’s in a bit of a finger-food-feud
with one of the other members. She’s got the whole menu planned.
It’s going to take her
days!
Not to mention, she simply
cannot
wait
to tell them about what’s happened here. She’ll
be the belle of the coven.”