The Surgeon's Blade (24 page)

“Slice of lime?” he asked, looking over in her direction.

“Yes please, darling. Are you coming to join me over here? This apartment really does have the most marvellous view. Look! Isn’t that the new Queen Mary II leaving her berth?”

Nigel crossed the polished wood panelled floor and peered through the glass. “Looks like her. Did you know at the end of November 2011, Southampton will no longer be her registered port?”

Stella shook her head. “No”.

“It’s changing to Hamilton, Bermuda. Strange to think that Britain once owned many cruising companies, including Cunard, and now doesn’t own one. They’ve all been sold, disbanded, or bought out by other cruising giants.”

“Talking of boats, how’s your
Tourbillon
? Have you managed to get much sailing in this year? Thanks for the G and T by the way, this lime really gives it a zing,” she said, giving Nigel a warm smile as he sat next to her. She shuffled round so that her thigh was resting against his. “It’s a bit like your aftershave actually. I recognise it as the one I bought you the last time I was home.”

Nigel nodded and returned her smile as he took a sip of his cocktail before replying, “No, regretfully, not nearly enough sailing. I’ve been frantically busy this summer, not just here but up in town too. Perhaps once the holidays are over, things will calm down, and I can actually do some cruising. I was planning a trip to the Channel Islands, but I had to scupper that idea.”

Stella laughed. “But think of the money you’re making. Plenty of time for extended cruising once you’ve retired. Did I tell you my partner in New York has bought a brand new Hinckley and keeps it at the Seawanhaka Corinthian Yacht Club on Long Island? Have you ever visited there? No? Well I did, last May, and it was fabulous.”

“Yes, I have. The club is twinned with The Royal Yacht Squadron at Cowes. Sebastian’s a member and I’ve been with him a couple of times.”

“I thought you couldn’t stand him the last time I was here.”

“No. I just don’t like his racing tactics sometimes. He carves up far too tight and takes too many risks.”

“And you don’t?” Stella replied archly.

Nigel gave her a long look as if he was considering what she really meant. Stella noted his dark expression and decided to change the subject. She didn’t want him thinking she had guessed his plan.

“So, are you thinking of dining in or out? If you’re intending to eat out, I’ve been told of a rather splendid little Italian restaurant in the back streets of Southampton. It’s called Alfredo’s. Do you know it?”

Nigel paused while lifting his glass to his mouth, and Stella could have sworn he looked startled. He shook his head and turned the corners of his mouth down. “No I don’t. I’ve never heard of it.”

Chapter 32

Libby couldn’t help the skip in her step as she whizzed round her home, ensuring it was tidy and looked inviting. She laid the table for two with her best cutlery and wine glasses. She also decided that, if she was going to make the table look attractive, she would do it properly. After locating a boxed set of snowy-white table linen, she unearthed a couple of silver rings and slipped them over the napkins. Did it look too over the top? she wondered while studying her efforts. Flowers! She needed a small sprig of summer flowers to complete the arrangement.

Having taken a pair of scissors from her kitchen drawer, Libby opened the French windows wide to the balmy evening air, enjoying the sweet scents of summer as she slipped outside. Her roses were still producing beautiful flowers, and she carefully picked a handful of the best creamy-yellow buds she could find. She glanced round her small garden and paused. It was warm enough to eat outside, and she wondered if she should bring the table onto the small patio. Perhaps, again, it was a tad too over the top. Robert was primarily coming over to fit her new lock. Besides, knowing her luck the weather would change and turn cold.

Taking a last breath of air, she turned to go back indoors and noticed someone standing on the other side of the garden hedge. The side of her garden led to a small cul-de-sac, where there were about half a dozen smart houses. She supposed the person was waiting for someone because she could smell cigarette smoke drifting from that direction. Curious about her stranger, Libby silently moved towards her garden boundary. The hedge was thinner at one end, and she knew where she could part the foliage to get a clearer look beyond. As she edged closer, the figure darted away and made for the road. There was a blare from the horn of a passing vehicle that narrowly missed him. Annoyed because she had failed to see who it was, Libby ran indoors and opened the front door. A bus was pulling into the parking bay and peering through the filmy bus windows, Libby could swear she recognised the figure as he boarded and moved down the length of the bus.  Standing on the front doorstep with a puzzled frown on her face, Libby thought she had seen Peter, the hospital porter.

What on earth was he doing down this road? Of course, there was no law to say he shouldn’t be here, but Libby felt a shiver run down her spine, especially after the other night. If it was him, why had he been standing so near her flat? Disturbed, Libby closed and bolted the door behind her. She leaned back against the solid wood, closing her eyes, feeling sick with apprehension. Keep calm! she told herself. It’s more likely to be a coincidence, and the man just resembled Peter. As her pulse rate slowed down, Libby opened her eyes and stole a look at her watch. It was time to check the kitchen and her cooking. She moved away from the door and gave a scream when the doorbell suddenly burst into life.

Libby put her hand to her throat in fright, then realised her foolishness as the caller was probably Robert. Gathering her wits, she peered through the safety spy-hole and, sure enough, recognised his features.

“What the devil was that scream for?” he asked, when she threw open the door. “Are you all right? You look a bit pale.”

Shaking with relief, Libby gave a wan smile and stepped aside as he walked in and closed the door behind him. He was holding a carrier bag in one hand and some sort of workman’s satchel-type bag in the other. “Libby?”

She nodded, the lump in her throat threatening to choke her. “I’m fine. I tripped over the rug and I…I nearly knocked the vase off the hall table. I overreacted. Come through to the kitchen.”

Robert followed, clutching his bags. “Mmm. Something smells good. Chicken did you say?”

Managing a proper smile, Libby nodded. “That’s if it all goes according to the recipe. I’m trying out Thai Green Curry on you. It’s my first attempt, so you’re my guinea-pig for the evening.”

Robert gave a low whistle. “Not only beautiful but clever too. Thai is probably my favourite food after Italian. Shall I do the door first though? I don’t think it’ll take too long. The instructions are straight forward.”

“It might be better while it’s still daylight outside. And I don’t know about being clever – you’ve never tasted my cooking. Would you like a drink?”

“Yes please, a beer if you’ve got one. It’s been pretty hot today and I’m thirsty. I’ll make a start on the lock at once.”

Libby wandered over to her glasses cupboard and selected a beer tankard. She could have just given him the can but thought he might appreciate a glass. As she poured the beer, she watched him covertly while he worked. Despite his apparent friendliness, she thought she sensed an aloofness about him and then immediately scolded herself, thinking she really was becoming paranoid over the slightest little thing. She turned back to check her cooking while Robert unpacked his bag and produced a substantial-looking lock, which he explained was known as a night latch.

“This should do the job. It’s nice and sturdy, much better than that old brass chain that looks like it could pop if someone put their shoulder to it,” he said later, when he stood back to admire his handiwork. “The lock is actually slightly stiff and will need a bit of getting used to. I’ve greased it, but try it and see.”

Robert showed Libby how to set and reset the lock. He was right, the lock was a bit difficult, but she said she would soon get used to it. “Knowing it’s there makes me feel heaps safer. Thank you,” she said, after trying it out a few times. “Okay, I reckon I’ve got the hang of it now. So, shall we have our dinner? It’s all ready apart from the rice, which is nearly done. I thought we’d eat in if that’s all right? They did forecast rain later and knowing my luck…”

~~~~~

Robert sat back in his chair with a satisfied look upon his face. “Libby, I have to say that was delicious, especially for someone who professes not to cook. Next time, it’s my turn.”

Libby smiled. “Are you sure? You’re not just saying that? Usually I’m rubbish when it comes to cooking.”

He laughed. “Of course I am. Believe me, I wouldn't lie to you. What would be the point? No, it was scrumptious!”

“Let’s take the rest of the wine outside shall we? The rain’s held off, and it’s still a warm evening.”

“Good idea. I’ll uncork the other bottle as we’ve nearly finished this one. I hope red is okay? I want to talk to you anyway.

Libby looked surprised at his remark. “That sounds ominous, what about?”

“Now, I don’t want to pry or upset you, but are you going to tell me about your intruder? Or am I going to be the last person you inform?” Robert raised his eyebrows, while tasting a sip of the new wine.

Libby flushed. “So who told you? I bet I can guess. He never could keep quiet.”

“Isn’t it just as well? When were you going to let me know, if at all?”

“Robert—” she said, turning away in embarrassment. “I promise I was going to tell you this evening. I’ve been so busy, and I guess I just forgot. When did Jem speak to you?”

“The very day your co-sister, Lisa, told him. Libby, you must realise we’re all concerned about you. Especially Lisa – she says you’ve not been yourself lately. Are you still having odd feelings?”

Thinking back to just before Robert’s arrival and her scare after seeing that man loitering outside, Libby hesitated. The police hadn’t really believed her as nothing had been stolen or disturbed, and she had little else to back up her strange feelings. Even so, she realised Robert would be as mad as hell if she kept this thing to herself.

“Ye–es. That is, something strange happened just before you arrived.”

Robert immediately looked grim. “Let’s go into the garden then, shall we? I get the feeling I should be sitting down.”

Libby followed him, and they sat on a bench side by side. The evening was calm and the sweet scent from the night stocks hung in the air. Traffic noises were muted and Libby could almost imagine they were in the country.

“It’s nothing really. I just had a bit of a surprise. I thought I saw one of the hospital porters, Peter, hanging around outside earlier; immediately before you arrived, actually. I thought you might have seen him. I was in the garden and happened to glance through the bushes over there,” she said, indicating with her hand. “And there was this man having a smoke, whom I thought looked very much like Peter. I couldn’t see absolutely clearly, as the hedge was in the way, even the part where it’s thinner. But it’s strange. I’m sure he doesn’t live near here, and I’ve never seen him around before. Anyway, he suddenly dashed across the road. I thought it was because he realised I’d seen him, and he jumped onto a bus going towards the city centre. Am I being stupid?” she asked in a soft voice.