Time to Pay (12 page)

‘Well, I'm up for it,' she said, as they began to walk back to the yard with Nero. ‘I'm over the moon about what you've done so far. He was being such a pig, I was beginning to despair. He's so much more relaxed now.'

In Gideon's pocket his mobile began to vibrate silently, the ringtone having been turned off in deference to Nero's nerves. He fished it out and glanced at the display.

Angie Bowen.

‘Just going to answer this,' he told the others, indicating the phone and dropping back. With the Trust, there was always the possibility of an emergency.

‘Hi, Angie.'

‘Gideon? Not interrupting anything, am I?'

‘No, not at all. What's up?'

‘Well, it's two things. One is to ask if it would be at all possible to change the day of your next visit?'

‘I'm sure that won't be a problem but I haven't got my diary handy, at the moment. I'll have to ring you back on that one.'

‘OK, that's fine. It's just that we've got the trustees visiting, and I'd rather like them to meet you and see you work.'

‘OK.' Gideon could think of things he'd like better, but he supposed they needed to see where the money was going. ‘And . . .?'

‘Oh, and just to tell you that Boomer's gone to his new home. They came to try him on Wednesday, then brought their vet out, Friday, and picked him up this morning.'

‘That's brilliant! So he behaved himself, presumably?'

‘He did. He was the perfect gentleman. I explained about the flies, but they didn't think it would be a problem. It's a lovely home.'

‘Wonderful. I'm really pleased. A few more pennies for the coffers, then.'

‘Yes. Oh, that reminds me. You know when we were talking about our mystery benefactor the other day, I said that the money always came in five separate envelopes? Well, this time there were only four. What do you make of that?'

‘You're still convinced this has to do with Damien?' Gideon lowered his voice instinctively, even though the others were, by this time, some way ahead.

‘No – not convinced, but it does seem a bit of a coincidence, doesn't it?'

‘Well – yes, I suppose it does . . . But to be honest it could well be just that – a coincidence. And short of asking Tilly outright – which I'm not about to do at the moment – we'll probably never know.'

WHEN GIDEON CAUGHT
up with the others he found that Tilly had already received, and accepted, an invitation to stay to lunch.

‘I'm under orders from my staff to take the day off,' she said. ‘They're a bossy lot, and they said they didn't want to see me around the yard until teatime.'

‘Right, then after lunch I'll take you down to see the honkers,' Giles told her. ‘If you'd like to?'

Tilly looked puzzled. ‘
Honkers?
'

‘Donkeys,' Pippa explained. ‘You've heard about our sanctuary, I expect. Giles calls them honkers because of the noise they make.'

‘I'm thinking of renaming the sanctuary “Honkers' Hollow”,' he said. ‘You can come and help me sign in two new arrivals.'

‘She's supposed to be taking the day off,' Pippa protested. ‘That's a bit of a busman's holiday.'

Tilly laughed. ‘Actually, I'd love to come and see them. I love donkeys, and I'd much rather be busy.'

‘Great.'

Gideon thought Giles looked particularly pleased, and felt a little uneasy. It was nothing unusual for Pippa's brother to show interest in an attractive female, in fact he'd have been more surprised if he hadn't, but his relationships weren't known for their longevity, and Tilly could do without any more heartache at the moment.

Just as Mrs Morecambe was putting a ploughman's-style lunch on the table, Lloyd turned up, wearing mud-spattered breeches, a white shirt and a Puffa jacket, having spent the morning drag hunting.

He greeted both Tilly and Pippa with a kiss, and collapsed onto one of the armchairs with a theatrical groan.

‘I'm knackered! We had a bloody brilliant morning, though. Huge turnout and hounds went like the wind. We lost half the field in the first ten minutes and they didn't catch up until the start of the third line!'

‘I wouldn't have thought
they
had a brilliant morning, then,' Gideon observed.

‘Well, we can't hang about for the stragglers,' Lloyd declared. ‘If they're not up to it, they shouldn't come.'

‘You can hardly call half the field stragglers,' Tilly put in, voicing Gideon's own thought, and he was reminded that Lloyd was an old friend of the Daniels family.

‘Yeah, well maybe it wasn't quite half,' he amended with a grin. ‘But still, I think we might have to organise special days for the unfit and the novices. Lay a trail with smaller jumps and put more breaks in it, to slow things up.'

‘You want to be careful – if it gets too popular, nobody'll want to chase foxes any more and you'll lose your political platform!' Gideon warned.

‘Rubbish! Drag hunting's OK, but it's not a patch on the real thing. Besides, there's still fishing and shooting; with hunting banned, everyone's scared shitless the bastards will start on those next.'

‘
Lloyd
,' Pippa warned, with a nod towards Mrs Morecambe, who had stopped on her way out of the kitchen and was looking back with an expression of strong disapproval.

He put up his hands. ‘Sorry – sorry! Language – I know. It's what comes of spending the morning with the lads from the kennels. I apologise. But, getting back to the hunting, the trouble is, if we organise extra days, I shall have to get a couple more horses. Prince is OK but Badger's getting a bit past it, and Lady hasn't been right since that day I had to walk her back to the box.'

‘I don't know why you took her,' Pippa commented. ‘You said you thought her back wasn't quite right.'

‘Well, I wouldn't have done if Prince hadn't bashed his leg on the gatepost and given himself a big knee. They always do it the day before hunting – that's why you need a spare. Course – I could hire one of yours . . .' he said, with a sideways look at her.

‘Oh, no, buster! Think again. I know how you ride, and I'm not having any of
my
horses brought back on their knees!'

‘Hey, I'm not
that
bad!' Lloyd protested, assuming a deeply wounded expression, but Gideon got the impression that he was rather
proud of his hard-riding reputation. His opinion of the man slipped another notch.

‘So, how come you're back early today?' he asked. ‘I thought these things went on all day.'

‘Yeah, they do, normally, but one of the whips has got flu and Pete – our huntsman – had a big family do to go to, so we just laid three short but very fast trails.'

Over lunch, the conversation was light-hearted and touched on many things, including the ongoing triumph of Giles' business venture.

‘The launch went brilliantly. We were even on the local TV news – did you see us?' Giles asked Tilly, but she shook her head.

‘Sorry, I don't have time to watch much TV, but I'm glad it all went well.'

‘Don't worry, he'll probably show you the video,' Pippa said. ‘We've all seen it at least a dozen times. But actually, there was one blot on the evening; someone tried to help themselves to our tack.'

‘What – one of the guests?' Tilly asked incredulously.

‘No, I didn't mean that, but I reckon someone took advantage of us being busy with the launch. After all, it was well advertised. It nearly worked, too. If Gideon hadn't gone out to check on Nero when the fireworks started, they'd have got away with it.'

‘Gosh!' Tilly looked at Gideon. ‘Did you catch them in the act?'

He shook his head ruefully. ‘I'd like to be able to say I was the hero of the hour, but the truth is—'

‘He blundered in and got clobbered over the head,' Lloyd cut in. ‘That is, if there ever was a burglar. My theory is that he tripped up and knocked himself out, then invented the story of a break-in to cover up his embarrassment!'

‘Damn! You've sussed me,' Gideon said, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. ‘Could you pass the pickle, Giles? Thanks.'

‘Did they do much damage?' Tilly asked. ‘Breaking in, I mean.'

‘No. They didn't really have to break in, as such,' Pippa said. ‘It seems I must have left the door unlocked, though I can't imagine how – I'm usually so careful.'

‘Haven't you got an alarm?' Tilly looked surprised.

‘No. We should have, really,' Giles said. ‘Who do you use for security?'

‘Actually, we had ours updated last year, when there were a lot of tack thefts locally. An old friend of Damien's did it – or at least, his company did. Julian Norris. Norris Security Systems. Did a good job, too. It's a doddle to use.'

‘Old Nervous Norris,' Lloyd said, nodding. ‘Perfect line of work for him. Isn't he dead now?'

‘Yes. Actually, it was rather sad because it was the day his company finished the work for us that he was killed in the car crash,' Tilly said. ‘It was a hell of a shock. He came to see us that evening – to check we were happy with the work, I suppose, Damien spoke to him – and then, on the way home, his car went off the road and hit a wall. We didn't find out about it until a couple of days after.'

‘So what happened – did he fall asleep?' Gideon queried.

‘Possibly. Nobody really knows.'

‘I heard it was suicide,' Pippa said.

‘Yes, I heard that rumour, but there wasn't any proof,' Tilly said. ‘They held an inquest and the verdict was accidental death. Damien and I had to give evidence because we were the last people to see Julian alive. They wanted to know what his state of mind was – you know, did he seem worried about anything, that sort of thing.'

‘Ha! That's a laugh!' Lloyd exclaimed derisively.

‘Why?' Gideon didn't understand.

‘Because you're talking about the most miserable bugger I've ever met! He was always worrying about something or other, and if he couldn't find anything to worry about, he'd invent something. That's why we called him Nervous Norris.'

‘He
was
a bit of a worrier,' Tilly agreed. ‘I think he suffered from depression, but he was a really nice chap. Actually, on that night, he seemed quite cheerful, which made it all the more tragic when we heard what had happened. Damien was quite cut up about it.'

‘Yeah, I'll admit, he
was
a nice chap,' Lloyd conceded. ‘Just a bit of an old woman, at times. God – it's hard to believe they're both gone! What a waste!'

There didn't seem to be much to say following this observation, and there was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, then Pippa said brightly, ‘Well, I can't sit around here all day – I've got horses to ride. Are you coming, Gideon? Blackbird could do with the exercise, he's getting fat!'

‘He's not fat!' Gideon retorted. Pippa's horses were never fat, unless they were out at grass, and
even though Blackbird was nominally
his
horse – because he flatly refused to behave for anyone else – Gideon knew she kept him well exercised when he couldn't find the time to do so himself. ‘But I'll come, anyway.'

‘Lloyd?' Pippa enquired.

‘No, not me. I'm for home and a hot bath; get out of these sweaty clothes. That faint hum you can hear is my socks!'

‘I wondered what it was,' Giles commented.

‘Does that still hurt?' Pippa asked sympathetically, watching Gideon ease his crash cap off and rub his head.

‘It is a bit tender,' he admitted. ‘But the swelling's gone right down. I wouldn't like to have tried putting my hat on yesterday.'

‘Well, I'm really sorry it happened but at least it wasn't in vain. I've been through everything and it doesn't look as though they got away with anything at all. They must have panicked after hitting you, and run off empty-handed.'

Gideon made an ironic bow. ‘Glad to be of service, but I think maybe an alarm might be a good idea. I don't think my head can stand many more clobberings.'

‘Well, Giles is going to ring the security people tomorrow. He was talking about getting the house updated, while they're at it, and maybe even your place.'

‘Actually, that's not such a bad idea,' Gideon said, and told her about Elsa and the papers, and his conclusion.

She was shocked.

‘Are you sure?'

‘Well, ninety-nine point nine per cent, yes. It's either that or I'm going completely off my trolley!'

‘And they didn't take anything?'

‘Not a sausage. I didn't say anything earlier because I didn't think it was worth worrying Tilly with, just as she's looking a bit brighter.'

‘She is, isn't she? I was thinking that,' Pippa agreed. She bent to look at the inside of her horse's fetlock. ‘Oh, Sky! You've kicked yourself, you clumsy great oaf. I'll have to wash that off; it's got dirt in it.'

‘I'll get you some water,' Gideon offered, having already put Blackbird back in his stable. In due course he delivered to her half a bucket of warm water from the kitchen, and a handful of cotton wool.

‘Thanks,' she said. ‘Oh damn! That's my phone. You couldn't just answer it for me, could you? It's in my coat. It might be Giles . . .'

Gideon obediently located the phone and flipped the lid.

‘Hello?'

‘Oh. That's not Pippa Barrington.' A woman's voice.

‘Well spotted,' Gideon said, amused. ‘But I can pass you over.'

‘Well, actually, it was Lloyd I wanted. He's not answering his phone. Can you tell him the kids were ready half an hour ago? He was supposed to be taking them to the pictures. It's bloody unfair – poor little loves! I'm his wife – ex-wife, Harriet,' she added somewhat unnecessarily.