Miranda's Mount (16 page)

Miranda thought that was rich, seeing Fred was five years younger and at least a century behind Lady St Merryn in his attitudes.

‘I think we’d better head her off,’ Jago said, looking genuinely shocked. ‘Thank you for your vigilance, Fred, I know I can rely on you.’

As Jago strode off to the quayside, Miranda caught his arm ‘Wait. I need to ask you something.’

‘What?’

‘You lied about not remembering what we … what we did … in the boat.’

‘Almost did,’ he corrected.

She panicked Lady St Merryn drew closer. ‘All right, what we almost did. I don’t have time to ask you why you thought lying was a good idea, but there’s something else I have to talk to you about. Karen saw us leaving the pub together. If the story’s out about you taking the boat, she must know we were both in it. Won’t she have told people in the village?’

Jago stopped and shook his head. ‘And your reputation will be in tatters? Theo won’t want to have anything to do with one of the St Merryn men’s fallen women?’

‘Don’t be any more of
a bastard than I already think you are!’ She’d raised her voice. She looked round her but no one had noticed. Lady St Merryn had stopped to talk to one of the maintenance team, giving her a precious few moments.

‘Relax. You have no need to worry about Karen telling the world what a tart you are. I called her the morning after and asked her not to say you left with me.’

‘You told her! Do you trust her?’

‘With my life, but not my virtue.’

Miranda could barely believe it. ‘You’re surely not seeing Karen too’

Jago tutted. ‘That’s rather ageist, isn’t it? Karen’s a very attractive woman.’

‘I didn’t say anything about her being older.’ But Miranda
was
thinking it. Karen must be twenty years older than Jago. ‘And she’s married, surely Ray will kill you if he finds out.’ Karen’s husband, Ray was a trawlerman, hard as nails and built like a tanker. Miranda couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

Jago smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not having an affair with Karen. I did, however, lose my cherry to her. It was on my seventeenth birthday and, don’t worry, she was single at the time, but she’s always had a soft spot for me. Karen is the soul of discretion; your secret is safe with her.’

Miranda was speechless at the thought that Karen, however discreet, knew that she and Jago had stolen the boat. Karen must also think she and Jago were having an affair. Miranda hoped that he was right about her, otherwise the whole village would know, including Theo. And she
did
care what Theo thought. But, her conscience whispered, she
had
chosen to drop her knickers for Jago, she had wanted him to make love to her, even if she’d been drunk. She’d wanted him so much, she could feel the desire fizzing through her right now.

‘Unbelievable,’ she murmured, but she wasn’t sure whether she meant Jago’s behaviour or her own.

‘Smile,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘My mother’s coming.’

He
walked forwards to greet her, with Miranda close behind. As they closed the gap on Lady St Merryn, Miranda could see the outline of her slight figure through the filmy fabric of the kaftan. Lady St Merryn’s hair, far from being restrained in a severe updo, was gathered back simply in a leather clip, like a silver-grey mane of a horse.

‘Je-sus,’ breathed Jago.

‘I think she looks beautiful,’ said Miranda, marvelling at the way Lady St Merryn sashayed along the quay, even with her stick.

‘Mother?’

Lady St Merryn held up her hand to silence them. ‘Not a word. In fact, I’ll say it for you. I’ve gone off my rocker.’ Her expression challenged them to deny it.

‘Where did you get the kaftan?’ asked Miranda.

‘This old thing? It came out of the attic. It’s an original Mary Quant from the King’s Road – used to belong to an aunt of mine who handed it down to me. It probably smells a tad musty although I’ve had it airing for a couple of days.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Jago, you look like someone has slapped you in the face with a wet haddock.’

‘I’m speechless, Mother.’

‘Really? How
refreshing. But no matter. As everyone is already talking about the St Merryns, I decided to come out and really give them something to talk about. You may as well know, Miranda, that I’m going to San Francisco at the end of the season and I thought I’d get into the spirit of things. When in Rome and all that.’

‘Mother, I’m not sure that people are still wearing that kind of thing over there.’

‘How do you know? Have you been there lately?’

‘Not for a couple of years.’

‘Then things might have changed. And besides, I don’t give a fig if they’re wearing suits of armour. I’m going to dress as I like.’

‘But here? People will talk.’

Lady St Merryn looked
at Jago as if she’d just caught him stealing from her purse. ‘Talk? Talk about
me
? They’re far too busy gossiping about you. Everyone within a thirty-mile radius knows about your unscheduled voyage. I hope you’ve settled up with the gig club.’

Miranda enjoyed seeing him squirm.

‘Of course. I paid for the repairs to the boat and made a generous donation to the club.’

‘You’re damn lucky they haven’t reported you to the police.’

‘They obviously wanted the cash more than justice.’

Lady St Merryn sighed. ‘And fortunately for you money can buy everything. And yet you think that by selling the Mount, you can rid yourself of your responsibilities and melt into the crowd. As long as you have money you have a burden. Running off won’t help.’

Jago’s expression darkened. ‘I’m not “running off” as you put it, I’m making a business decision and, as you well know, money can’t buy everything and I should know that better than anyone.’

‘I ought to be getting back to the office,’ said Miranda, horrified at being dragged into a family spat, even if she was partly involved in it.

‘Yes, you do that. There’s no point in you being embarrassed by Jago as well as the rest of the village.’

Miranda swallowed hard but Jago didn’t even look at her. It was partly her fault that he and Lady St Merryn were arguing now.

‘Yes, run along, Miranda,’ he said nastily.

Miranda revised her opinion. The git deserved everything he got from his mother.

Lady St Merryn shook her head. ‘What’s happened to you? You know, sometimes I think I should stay here after all.’

His face fell as if he was genuinely worried then he set his jaw. ‘Suit yourself, but I’m leaving.’

Miranda felt like a spectator. ‘See you later,’ she said quickly and escaped, full of relief and guilt.

Once she reached the office she risked a glance back. Lady St Merryn was being helped into a boat by the helmsman of the visitor ferry and Jago had vanished, either into the visitor areas or, more likely, up the back path to the castle.

If Lady St Merryn was having a midlife crisis, she was doing it in style. Her metamorphosis into Cher was a shock but it only signified that she had already left the Mount behind, psychologically at least. And Jago was clearly more determined than ever to sell.

A
few days later, Ronnie staggered into Miranda’s office, clutched the arm of the swivel chair and collapsed into it.

Miranda looked up. She’d been in the middle of typing up the Festival of Fools programme. ‘What’s the matter? Are you all right?’

‘Not really. I’ve just seen her ladyship in a pair of jeans and a headband.’

‘A headband!’

‘Yup. One of those rainbow-striped, beaded ones like Native Americans wear. And the jeans were what my gran calls “bell bottoms”. Reggie saw her. He said she looks like a white Bob Marley. He almost offered her a spliff. Not that I condone drugs, of course.’

Miranda knew for a fact that Reggie grew cannabis in a greenhouse behind his cottage, and that Ronnie regularly went round there to indulge, so ignored this.

‘Fred says that Lady St Merryn told him she was going to San Francisco. What the hell does she want to go there for?’ said Ronnie.

‘Maybe for a holiday or to get some treatment for her arthritis?’

‘I got the impression she was going away for good. I guess that means we’ll be left to Jago’s tender mercies. The place will go to the dogs if it does but San Francisco sounds wonderful. I had some colleagues who went on an exchange trip to Californian penitentiaries. They were taken to Alcatraz on a day out.’ Ronnie sighed longingly. ‘Do they actually wear kaftans in San Fran any more?’

Miranda
closed her Word document. ‘I don’t think Lady St Merryn cares.’ But there was definitely something about reliving her lost youth in that kaftan. And the hair. Going back there must have something to do with the past. Even Jago had been surprised. ‘Ronnie, did you want me for something because if not, hun, I have to try to finish putting the Festival programme together.’

‘I saw that French bloke, Pierre, and his mate get off a boat again this morning. Do you know anything about it?’

Miranda felt goosebumps creep across her skin like little cat’s feet. ‘No … I don’t.’ She felt a jag of unease and disappointment and then relief. Jago had invited Southcastle again and he hadn’t involved her this time. That was a good thing, wasn’t it?

‘You see, I’m beginning to get a bit worried. What with Jago turning up out of the blue and Lady St Merryn off to spread peace and love and those two suits visiting the island … you would tell me if there was anything I should know about, wouldn’t you, hun?’

The phone rang. Miranda snatched it up hoping it would be an important call, preferably with a complicated issue to deal with at the very top of the castle. ‘Can I help you?’

A few minutes later she put down the receiver. ‘That was South West Television. I sent them a press release and they want to come to the Festival to do a piece for the regional news.’

Ronnie’s eyes
lit up. ‘Excellent! Do you think they’ll want an interview with me? Oh, I must go and phone Neem. He won’t believe that we’re going to be on telly!’

Since their meeting at
the pub, Miranda had expected Theo to call, if only to discuss the possibility of the tug-of-war team coming to the Festival. Ronnie had been out with Neem but said that the whole team would have to make sure they had the date free before they could agree.

Of course, she’d also expected Theo to ask her out for a date but a week passed by and he hadn’t called. She wondered if Theo had just been making polite conversation. Or maybe he really
did
think she was having a relationship with Jago and that’s why he hadn’t called. She didn’t want him – or anyone in the village – to assume that because it just wasn’t true. Oh what a tangled web, she thought. That was what happened when you got involved with Jago.

She was working in the office one afternoon when Theo’s rich rolling burr came on the phone.

‘Hi there,’ he said.

Her pulse skittered. ‘Hello.’

‘Sorry
I haven’t called. It took me ages to get the lads to agree to be in the same place at the same time but they’re all ready now; we’ll definitely be at the Festival.’

Miranda, relieved at the normality of the conversation, started to gush. ‘Oh, that’s brilliant. I’m so thrilled. It will be fantastic.’

‘Don’t get too excited,’ said Theo with a laugh. They discussed some ideas for bringing the inshore lifeboat, a display and a stall then Theo said, ‘I hear Jago was up to his old tricks again after we met in the Pilchard.’

There was no use pretending she didn’t know what Theo meant. Everyone in the village had heard. She laughed it off. ‘I heard he got a bit pissed but I think he’s squared it with the rowing club.’

‘Yes, it’s always easy to put things right when you’ve got the money,’ said Theo. ‘You can get away with pretty much anything and still come up smelling of roses. But I expect you’ve worked that out by now.’

Miranda squirmed with a mixture of discomfort at Theo’s chippiness and at her own part in wrecking the boat. She listened for any hint of irony in Theo’s voice or for clues that he’d guessed her part in it after all. Unlike Jago, she wasn’t as confident in Karen’s discretion and it was also possible that other people in the village or on the Mount had seen their drunken escapades.

She crossed her fingers, relieved Theo couldn’t see her red cheeks. ‘Oh, I do my best to keep out of the family’s private lives,’ she said lightly.

‘That’s a very wise move. It’s not really my business and I’m sure you’re bright enough not to be taken in by Jago, but I thought I’d sound a warning note. The man’s trouble and I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.’ He paused then added, ‘And we must have that drink sometime. I’m going on a course at the Lifeboat College in Poole and then I’ve got a week’s leave – I’m going to visit my sister in Scotland – but when I get home, we must get together. I’ll call you as soon as I get back.’

Miranda
made polite noises and put down the phone. Theo couldn’t know what had happened, she was sure he would have dropped a hint if he had. He really disliked the St Merryns; she could understand it to a point. But Theo’s animosity towards Jago seemed to go beyond general envy of the local landowner; in fact she had the distinct feeling that it was very very personal.

Over the next couple of weeks, Miranda hardly had a moment to spare as midsummer approached and the tourist season got into full swing. Lady St Merryn continued to float about the Mount in a succession of ever more vibrant hippy-inspired outfits, radiating her own regal brand of love and peace. Miranda might resent her for leaving, but she had to admit that it seemed the right decision for her ladyship.

As for her son, Miranda knew it was impossible to avoid Jago; she saw him every day and, inevitably, they had to discuss a variety of issues relating to the finances and future events and plans for the Mount.

She hadn’t seen Jumeau and Devlin again but that didn’t mean they hadn’t visited or that Jago hadn’t been meeting them. In fact it was likely he had been to see them; he’d definitely been up to London twice and made no secret of it.

It
hardly mattered. The sale was still going ahead and he’d assured her he would be announcing it to the staff as soon as the ink was dry on the contract. Miranda had thrown herself into her work, partly as a distraction and partly because she wanted to enjoy what could possibly be her last season at the Mount. Who knew what would happen to her role after the changeover? Even though she hated the idea of leaving, she couldn’t get her head around working for Southcastle and had started looking at vacancies at other historic properties.