Protection (12 page)

Andrea kissed her. “You taste delicious.”She said.

“Thanks.”Carrie gasped. “Thank you so much, that really was something else! But I'm going to have to be an absolute bitch now and say I haven't got the time to return the favour. I've only just seen what time it is and I haven't even thought about the food yet.”

“Don't worry, I've already eaten.”Andrea shot back, but her humour didn't get her very far. The phone rang then and Carrie swept downstairs to her study to answer it, soon discovering that Carmichael, who was on the other end, had taken care of most of the preparations himself.

“So, what you're saying is, the only thing left for me to worry about is what to wear?”

“That's right.”Carmichael confirmed. “Everything else is all set, from decorators to caterers. We have waitresses from the hotel, as per, and the live band we've used before. I've also ordered the mistletoe and holly you wanted and some French guy who apparently is an absolute whizz with artificial snow. And don't worry about the mess either. Apparently he claims to do such a good tidy-up job afterwards that you'll never know he was there.”

“Sounds wonderful!”Carrie enthused. “And I suppose the additon of the mistletoe means you're hoping for a Christmas kiss?”

“I'm counting on it.”Carmichael oozed in his best flirtatious voice. “Who knows where it might lead?”

Not where you want it to, Carrie thought and laughed.

“Well, gotta go.”Carmichael said. “Be sure to call me if you think of anything else... oh, and tell that big, bad bodyguard of yours that I've arranged for her to inspect the troops the morning before, so if there's anyone there she doesn't like the look of she can evict them herself. Right. See you soon then my lovely. TTFN.”

Hanging up, Carrie sat back in her chair. This was going to be the best party ever. Especially as, at the end of it, she had someone to cuddle up with.

She was going to die! Right here in the middle of the road! Dead from a heart attack!

Breathing heavily, Isobel bent over and clasped her knees. Blowing away sweaty, blonde hair from her forehead whilst she waited to see if her heart was, in fact, going to pack up.

This was killing her! And all because of that stupid bitch, Rita. If only she wasn't so bloody thin? Then she wouldn't have had to loose all this weight! Yet, how could she stop now? With the party just over a week away.

Straightening up, she massaged her aching sides and peered down the road. To her right, the narrow lane was bordered by tall hedgerow which restricted her view down to the village, whilst to her left, ploughed fields sloped down to the road that ran along the bottom. Straight in front would see her eventually emerge beside the church, undoubtedly hot, sticky and with a face the colour of beetroot.

Of course, it might have been easier to use the brand new leisure complex that Carrie Shilling had so obligingly opened to get into shape, but a peek through the window at all the lycra-clad stick insects, peddling furiously away with such grim determination, had put her right off and she'd soon decided to loose weight in her own way. By pounding the pavements.

The mountain bike might also have helped, but after reading somewhere that jogging burnt up twice as many calories as peddling, she'd switched to running. Which would have been fine if it wasn't half killing her.

Still, it would probably be worth it in the end and taking a deep breath, Isobel started off again, keeping to a brisk pace, as her feet slapped the pavement and her head filled with ideas of how sweet it was all going to be when it finally came together. Then the pain would be worth it. Especially when she came face to face with her! But first she had to do something about all this blubber!.

“Ouch! That hurt!”

Huffing, Andrea reached down and pulled Carrie to her feet, giving her the once over before deciding she was intact.

“The reason it hurt.”She explained patiently. “Is because you didn't fall properly. Roll with it like I showed you. Go the way the momentum tells you to.”

Carrie pulled a face. “Huh! That's easy for you to say, you've had tons of practice. Okay, let's try again.”

Andrea nodded and grabbing Carrie by the lapels on her suit, she twisted round, thrust her hip sharply against Carrie's pelvis, bent her knees and threw her effortlessly over her shoulder.

Carrie landed on the crash mat with a solid ‘thump!'

“How was that?”Andrea asked. “Any better?”

“No! And how can anything possibly be better at six in the morning?”Carrie grumbled, rubbing her elbow as she got up. “This is nothing short of torture!”

“Actually, it's nearer seven.”Andrea said. “Which means we've got just over the hour before they open to the public.”

“Wonderful.”Carrie sighed. “I should be covered in bruises by then. I knew I should have had a gym put in the house. At least then I wouldn't have had to get up so ridiculously early.”

The leisure center was quiet. Two hours before it officially opened for business, Carrie and Andrea were using it to practice self defense. Something Carrie had been sure she'd be hopeless at right from the start, and something which Andrea was beginning to think she'd been right about.

The problem was that Carrie simply wasn't aggressive enough and on the rare occasion when she did manage to defend herself successfully, she immediately rushed over to check that Andrea was all right. Which wasn't quite the attitude to have if you'd just been mugged. Still, Andrea was determined to teach Carrie at least the basics, even if she did intend to gripe her way through the entire session..

“Can't we go home now?”Carrie said, moaning again and sniffing with disgust at her armpit. “I stink and I'm dying for a shower.”

“Okay, fine. If that's what you want. But we're coming back tomorrow. Don't think you're getting off that lightly.”

Carrie groaned. “Do we have to? I'm useless at all this stuff. I don't know why you're bothering.”

Andrea laughed. “Hark at you! Is this really the same girl who's career is based on playing a tough, warrior Angel who thinks nothing of hacking away with her sword? Whatever happened to her?”

“She retired to become a bodyguard.”Carrie pouted. “Felt it was time she did something a little less taxing.”

“Oh, really? Well, she's in for a bit of a shock then isn't she? Come on, misery guts, let's go home and see if Amanda can't cheer you up with one of her famous brekkies.”

Outside Brick was waiting with the car. A mundane BMW Carrie used whenever she wanted to go anywhere without being recognized. Opening the door for them he asked how the session had gone?

“Dreadful.”Carrie said.

“Needs work.”Andrea added.

Brick understood and grinning he showed them a set of brilliant, white teeth, wishing more than anything that he could be a fly on the gymnasium's wall.

The drive home was quiet and they passed no one except a milkman rattling along in his float, and a jogger, whose gender was difficult to establish thanks to their baggy clothing.

Yet if they'd taken little notice of her, Isobel had certainly heard them and raising her head to the unexpected sound of a car so early in the morning, she did a double take when she spotted the occupants.

Where had they been so early in the day? She mused, managing to keep running despite her shock. Clearly somewhere far enough away that it warranted a car, although, to be honest, it was unlikely she'd be walking no matter where she went. But what was open round here at seven o'clock aside from the dairy? Nothing. Not even the newsagent opened until eight. Unless she'd been out all night and was on her way home. That was possible, but how could she find out for sure?

Let's see.

Where did this road lead to?

Probably the town center, though she couldn't be certain. She usually veered off to the left during her jogs, taking the narrower lanes that would lead her round in a neat circle. But that didn't mean it didn't go anywhere else. So- if she carried on - she would…end.. up…

At the Leisure center! Of course! This road came out right alongside it, so she'd probably been for an early morning swim before all the plebs turned up to use it. Bloody hell, it was alright for some.

Determined to test her theory, Isobel jogged on, reaching the leisure center in just under ten minutes where she stood gasping on the steps until she'd caught her breath. Then, knocking smartly on the huge, glass doors, she peered in to see a door marked ‘Private' swing open and a young man dressed in blue shorts and a grey zip up fleece step out, his rubber soled sandals squeaking shrilly across the polished floor as he approached the doors tapping irritably at his watch.

“We're not open yet.”He yelled through the glass. “Half an hour.”

“Then how come I've just seen two women coming out of here?”Isobel yelled right back.

The young man shrugged. “Dunno, cleaners I expect. Look. Just come back in half an hour okay? We'll be open then.”And stuffing his hands in his pockets, he walked off.

Cleaners indeed, Isobel huffed, watching him retreat across the foyer. Cleaners didn't turn up for work in a bloody BMW!

It was time to make a phone call.

“How does that feel? Better? I never realised you were so tense.”

Standing together inside the king sized shower, Andrea's soapy hands gently massaged Carrie's skin, whilst Carrie sighed with pleasure and shivered as the bubbles tickled down her body to pool at her feet.

“Hmm.”She said. “That's really nice. A little lower?”

Andrea duly obliged, and standing behind her, swept her hands up and down the length of Carrie's back until, giggling, Carrie turned to kiss her Her long, dark hair sleek and heavy with water as they kissed again and Andrea reached up to caress her breast.

“Give it one, more try babe.”She murmured, bending to circle Carrie's nipple with her mouth. “Just one more try. And then, if you really can't get the hang of it, I promise we'll stop.”

Carrie could hardly speak. “Okay.. I'll give it..one more try, but only if you.. promise me you won't stop… what you're… doing now.”

“It's a deal.”Andrea said and teasing the tip of Carrie's nipple with her thumb, ran her other hand down her stomach.

Hanging up the receiver Isobel ‘high fived' the wall. Her supervisor had swallowed her blatant lie of ‘galloping gut rot' entirely without question, which meant there would be no abusive members of the public shouting at her today.

But that didn't mean she could afford to stay in bed. If she didn't get a move on, she was going to be late!

Adhering to her usual routine, Rita McKenzie left the newsagents via the back garden and following a route that took her past a scruffy lawn and an overgrown Honeysuckle bush she reached a tall, wooden gate, which this morning she actually remembered to latch behind her before setting off to work. Then, pausing at the end of the street, she glanced up and down as if expecting to see someone, before carrying on. Totally unaware that Isobel, crouched behind a pillar box on the opposite corner, was watching her stride quickly up the hill towards the hotel.

The moment she was out of sight, however, Isobel straightened up and rubbed her aching back. She'd been following Rita for just over a week now and this ridiculous performance had become part of a daily ritual in which she rose early, washed, ate a hasty breakfast and then followed Rita before going to work herself.

The experience turning out to be both long and tedious and one she could well have done without, especially as Rita's movements hadn't altered at all in all the time she'd been watching her, but seeing as she was now absolutely certain when and where to strike, today was definitely going to be the last morning when she would adhere to this careful routine.

An extra half hour in bed wouldn't go amiss either.

At ten thirty, Carmichael rang the house. Andrea answered.

“Good morning.”She said brightly, still glowing after making love with Carrie in the shower. “What can I do for you today?”

“Plenty. “Carmichael said, totally oblivious to what he'd just missed. “But if I were to answer that question honestly, I'd probably end up behind bars.”

“Better not then.”Andrea replied. “But what's really up? You sound a little solemn this morning.”

“It's those letters.”Carmichael began. “I checked with the fan club and they say they've received another one. In bright orange. Although I'm not sure its from the same person.”

“Oh? Why's that?”

“Because the person who wrote it says that they want Carrie to lie naked across their Harley Davidson, and do improbably things with their throttle.”

Andrea laughed. “You're right, it doesn't sound like the same nutter. But that doesn't mean we won't get another one. Will you ask them to stay vigilant?”

“Of course… But what is the likelyhood of this person turning out to be a real problem? They sound like just another fruit cake to me.”

“Yeah, they do, but what worries me is that they obviously think they know Carrie intimately and have had some sort of past relationship with her and therefore have some sort of claim over her, which can be dangerous, especially if she doesn't respond. That might lead to them feeling slighted and you know what they say about a lover scorned.”

“So you think we should alert the police then?”Carmichael said. “Catch this little git before he does something really stupid.”

“Well, we could But without proof that he actually intends to harm Carrie I don't see what the police can do.”

“But this is Carrie Shilling we're talking about! Surely that should make a difference?”

“Only to the press. They'd be all over it like a rash and I don't think any of us want that. But try not to worry. I'm with Carrie practically all the time now, and you're around a lot and they have stuck to just sending letters. It's only if they try to do something a little more threatening that we seriously need to worry. But having said that I still think they're more likely to turn out to be some harmless, love sick kid desperate to snog his favourite film star.”