Seven Scarlet Tales (29 page)

Peregrine poured himself a brandy and sat down with a book, pretending not to watch Leo release Callie from her bonds and carry her out of the room.

It was hard work, being stylishly heartless, sometimes. Harder work trying to read with moans of ecstasy drifting into your ears. Leo could at least have shut the door. But no. Even that was too daunting a challenge for the great lummox.

The moans of ecstasy mingled with something else after a
while. It took Peregrine a few moments to identify the gentle beeping of his phone.

He looked at the clock. It was after midnight. Usually only lovers called at such times.

Feeling optimistic, even though he would have to postpone whomever it was for Callie, he picked up the call.

Cousin Richard? Odd.

‘Sweet coz,’ he said, putting the phone to his ear. ‘What is amiss?’

‘We’ve got a situation on our hands.’

‘Do we indeed? At this time of night the only situation I want on my hands is a brunette one with a firm pair of buttocks.’

‘Well, that pretty much describes her, actually.’

‘Oh?’ Peregrine shifted in his seat, holding the phone closer to his ear. ‘Do tell.’

‘Emma Frayne from the Geisha Garden.’

‘A personal favourite of mine. What about her?’

‘Allyson’s been busted over something, I’m not sure what, and Emma needs to go into hiding. I can sort out plane tickets, paperwork and all that, but I don’t know where to send her. I don’t know anyone much overseas. I thought you might.’

‘Why on earth? Has the club been raided? Is she going to name names?’

‘Al wouldn’t do that.’

‘There isn’t an awful lot Allyson Bruce wouldn’t do, Richard,’ he said sharply. ‘I’ve known her longer than you have. She’s a pragmatist, loyal to her own skin.’

‘She loves Emma, genuinely loves her. If you help her, she’ll keep your name out of it.’

‘Well, there might be something in that. Leave it with me, Richard. I’ll make some calls.’

‘Thanks. But we’ll need an answer by the morning. She can’t stay here longer than tonight. We all have to clear out of here as soon as we can.’

‘What a marvellous screenplay this would make.’

‘Yes, Peregrine. Goodnight.’

‘Right.’

Allyson climbed back into the car and looked through the windscreen for a long time, her hands cupped round the cardboard coffee cup, before speaking again.

‘Did you call Richard?’ asked Emma.

‘Yeah. Told him to expect you back. He’s going to take care of you.’

‘What does that mean? Take care of me?’

Allyson shrugged. ‘He’s all right, is Rich. He’ll think of something. Hey, don’t look so …’

She put down the coffee, placed a hand on Emma’s thigh and squeezed it tight.

‘I want to come with you.’

‘You can’t.’

‘When will I see you again?’

‘I don’t know. One fine day. Somewhere over the rainbow. Oh, love, don’t cry.’

‘I don’t want you to go. Come with me. We can both make a run for it. Thelma and Louise.’

‘You’re an old romantic, Em, aren’t you? No, sweetheart. They won’t come after you but they’d come after me. I ain’t got nowhere to hide from McKenna, except prison, and I’ll take that. Prison’s not that bad.’

‘You’ve been there before?’

‘Yeah, didn’t I ever tell you? Problem child, I was. Spent a lot of my teens in and out of the slammer. Girls don’t go as
bad as me without a bit of help from their criminal friends. I didn’t just wake up one day and think, I know, I’ll get involved in organised crime. By the time you realise what you’ve let yourself in for, you’re already in it up to your neck.’

‘Is it really too late?’

‘Believe me, darling, if I could turn back the clock … But there’s no use thinking like that. I am what I am. I ain’t proud of myself. But I’m proud of you, and of having a girl like you. I know I’m going to prison and the one thing that’ll make it bearable for me is if I know you’re all right. So be all right, Em. For me.’

‘I love you,’ she whispered, tears raining from her eyes.

‘I know. I love you too.’

The coffee was kicked over in the course of the kiss that followed, soaking the passenger footwell.

When Allyson left the car again, her shoes were wet and squelchy.

‘Go,’ she said, gesturing violently towards the access road to the motorway.

Emma wound down the window.

‘I don’t know if I can,’ she said desperately.

‘Listen, girl.’ Allyson leant in at the window and spoke firmly and deliberately. ‘Next time I see you – and there will be a next time, and it’ll be sooner than you think – I’m going to take your knickers down and give you the spanking of your life. So think about that. Think about it every night, darling. I know I will. Now go, or I’ll drag you in the coffee shop and do it right there.’

She stepped back and watched Emma wind the window back up.

The car remained stationary for a few moments more, then the engine revved and Emma reversed out of the
parking space. She didn’t look back at Allyson again.

Allyson watched the tail lights until they turned the final corner and their glow faded to nothing. Then she returned to the telephone box, looking up McKenna’s number on her mobile as she trudged.

‘Have you read it?’

Richard, trying to concentrate on leaving the freeway at the correct exit, didn’t reply for a minute or two.

‘No, I haven’t.’

‘So what’s it about?’

‘I’ll give you three guesses.’

‘It can’t be a porn movie! Are you saying it’s got spanking in it?’ Lucy almost bounced in her seat.

‘It’s not a porn movie. At least, he says it’s not. He says it’s a, what was it, modern and sophisticated take on an age-old fascination.’

‘It’s a spanking movie.’

‘Yeah. I think it is. With a lot of witty dialogue in between and a bittersweet love story and all that but, basically, a spanking movie.’

‘Got to hand it to Peregrine,’ said Rob reverently, looking up from the sat nav receiver. ‘He’s the don. Left here, I think, Rich.’

‘Wow, oh my God, look, the Hollywood sign!’

Lucy was beside herself with excitement now. As if she hadn’t been Tiggerish enough for the last twelve hours. Both Richard and Rob had had to warn her repeatedly to let them read their book or watch their in-flight movie in peace. While Richard waited at the baggage carousel, Rob had taken her into
a disabled lavatory and given her half a minute’s worth of disciplinary attention with her knickers down and hands on the seat.

People milling outside had almost certainly heard them, but that just made Lucy feel smug, watching the suitcases ride by, knowing that the whispers opposite were about her and her bottom.

‘Which studio did you say it was, Richard?’

‘Maximo.’

‘OK, that one is two blocks up and … I’m not sure if that’s a one way street … No, I think it’s fine.’

‘Oh my God, look, that’s where they film
Jimmy, Jo & Co.
The outside of the coffee shop, I mean!’

Lucy’s shriek was the last straw for Richard, already nervous at driving this enormous car along these unfamiliar street layouts.

‘As soon as we get to the car park …’ he said.

‘Parking lot, it’s called a parking lot here, that’s what they call a car park.’

‘And here it is,’ said Rob, pointing ahead.

They were waved through by security after spending some time establishing their names, and the legitimacy of their guest status, and Richard found a spot as close to the studio buildings as he could get.

As soon as the engine was off, the two men turned to look at the woman in the back seat.

She was already diving for the door, but was puzzled by its failure to open.

‘Child lock,’ said Richard grimly. ‘Since you’re behaving like one.’

That got her attention.

She drew in a quick breath and looked from one man to the other.

‘What?’

‘You’ve already had one warning,’ said Rob. ‘At the airport. You knew Richard needed to concentrate on his driving, and I had to keep my mind on the sat nav.’

‘GPS, they call it here …’ Her voice trailed off. ‘I’m just excited,’ she pleaded.

‘You know what we put in our hand luggage just in case,’ said Richard.

‘Oh, I haven’t been that bad.’

‘I don’t know. What do you think, Rob?’

‘I think, regrettably, none of our warnings have been heeded, so …’

‘I think I agree.’

‘Not here!’ Lucy looked out of the windows, craning her neck for signs of other humans whose presence might save her. The lot was deserted.

‘Why not? Nobody can see. Get into position, now.’

Richard brooked no argument and Lucy, with a huff and clenching of her fists, turned around so that she was kneeling on the floor with her stomach resting on the leather back seat.

‘Cheek each, Rob?’

‘Don’t mind if I do.’

‘Bare bottom, please, Lucy.’

The spanking was no more than a quick flurry, Richard smacking at one cheek while Rob took the other, and it stopped after a minute or so. Lucy’s bottom was already satisfactorily scarlet.

‘Now then,’ said Rob, unbuckling his canvas satchel and removing a couple of items from it. ‘Hold your cheeks apart, Luce.’

‘Oh, must I?’

‘You asked for it.’ He coated the large butt plug in a layer of some kind of embrocation, applicable by a twist-up stick. It smelled piney and sinus-clearing and Lucy would know exactly what effect to expect: her little whimper of dismay signalled as much.

Rob made no concessions to Lucy’s fuss and pushed the plug quickly and firmly into its target, twisting it into position and patting her rear once it was seated.

He smiled at Richard and together they waited for the first moans of discomfort.

‘It burns,’ she whined, as if this experience was new to her, which it was not, by any means.

‘That’s the idea,’ said Rob lightly. ‘Now perhaps we can expect some better behaviour from you, hmm?’

‘I can’t go in there wearing this.’

‘Of course you can,’ soothed Richard. ‘Nobody will see it. Unless you want to keep your knickers and skirt pulled down like that.’

She reached around and hurriedly pulled her panties tight over her plugged bottom, following with the skirt that she now considered much too short. She should have worn trousers, damn it. But then perhaps people would be able to see the little flange of the plug making an impression in the fabric. Maybe it was best this way.

It was awkward to walk with such a large presence in her behind and she had a slightly bow-legged gait as she allowed herself to be borne along between Richard and Rob, on one arm of each. Plus the coating stung and burned to buggery and made her want to squirm, and clench, and unclench all at once.

The worst side-effect of all still hadn’t come into full effect, though. But it would. Before too long, her knickers
would be soaking wet with her own juices and she would be desperate for a good, hard ride.

And how likely was that, in the middle of a big film studio set?

They showed their day passes to the security guard, walked into a huge hangar, and wandered around for a while until they stumbled upon the centre of activities.

‘Look,’ said Lucy, although in a much subdued tone. ‘There’s Peregrine.’

And so he was, immaculate as ever in the finest tailoring, modified for the California heat, deep in conference with a bearded guy in a baseball cap.

‘He’s the director,’ said Richard. ‘He did
Zombie Dawn
.’

‘Oh, I loved that,’ said Lucy, clamping her thighs together. The heat had made its inevitable way between them.

‘Did you? Load of crap,’ sniffed Rob.

‘Don’t say that to him,’ cautioned Richard.

‘Of course I won’t.’

Peregrine looked up and saw them. There was no enthusiastic wave or hastening up to greet them, but he nodded and gave a slightly imperious toss of his head, beckoning them over.

Lucy felt every eye on her, from the leading actors to the best boy grip, and burned with shame, sure that each one of them knew she was plugged and gagging for sex. Richard and Rob strode confidently, making her speed up to an uncomfortable pace so that she shuffled along with tiny, fast steps.

‘Richard,’ proclaimed Peregrine. ‘How wonderful to see you. And Robert, of course. And not forgetting Lucy. I hope you’ve been behaving yourself, young lady.’

His stern expression made her squirm all the more. He knew. He had to know.

‘Fat chance,’ laughed Richard.

‘I hope you’re keeping her well in hand.’

‘Oh yes.’ Richard smiled rakishly, causing Peregrine to unbend too.

‘So this is Hollywood,’ he said. ‘And you’re welcome to it.’

‘Aren’t you enjoying it?’

‘No. Can’t smoke a fucking cigarette anywhere. But apart from that, I suppose it’s not the worst place.’

‘Not the worst place?’ Rob was bemused. ‘You’ve fallen on your feet.’

‘Into a septic tank, dear boy. Anyway, it’s marvellous to see you all. We’ve just one more scene to shoot, then we can go back to my hacienda. Do find yourselves a seat. Must dash: something I need to tell our esteemed director.’

Lucy found a vacant chair against the back wall and lowered herself painstakingly into it, grateful that Peregrine wasn’t witness. He would certainly guess immediately what was afoot. Richard and Rob watched avidly enough, though, the gits.

She fidgeted and fought to keep her breath from erupting into gasps for the next ten minutes while her lovers sat on either side of her, each holding one of her hands.

‘Where’s Miss Britt’s PA?’ someone shouted, causing Lucy to look over in the direction of the query.

Celia Britt, as glacially beautiful in the flesh as on film, was having her face powdered and her lipstick reapplied at the side of the set.

‘Mimi?’ bellowed the questioner again.

‘Oh, there she is!’ Lucy exclaimed, seeing Emma flit across the studio towards the star of the show.

She entered into an urgent-looking conversation with Celia before nodding her head and running back the other way.

‘Emma!’ called out Lucy, wanting to take back her mistake straight away.

‘For fuck’s sake,’ growled Richard, while Rob tutted loudly.