Valentine Present and Other Diabolical Liberties (18 page)

If watching Wimbledon every year counts for anything, I’m an expert. I have played badminton with Julian on the odd occasion. I guess that’s the same isn’t it? Except it’s a ball instead of a shuttlecock and of course
, with different rackets and a different court too. So, I guess, in theory, it isn’t anywhere near the same is it?

     
‘Rusty,’ I say finally.

     
‘Brice is very good. What do you think of Brice?’ she asks suddenly and the ring slips from my fingers and clatters on the oak floor. Diamond rushes in and sniffs around it. I reluctantly lean down to pick it up and meet the demon’s eyes. If I didn’t know better I’d swear the little git was human and what’s more, related to
the
Jack Diamond. Maybe if I kill the cat Jack Diamond will die too.

     
‘I don’t really know him that well,’ I say, avoiding her eyes.

I actually think he is the sexiest man I have ever laid eyes on but I can’t tell her that, can I?

      ‘He seems to approve of you.’

Bloody hell, are we talking about the same Brice?

      ‘Try it on girl, it won’t bite you.’

I slip the ring onto my finge
r and like Cinder-sodding-rella it only bleeding fits doesn’t it? It glitters so much I need sunglasses. I’ve never in my entire life been near such a huge bling, let alone worn one. She claps her hands.

     
‘Excellent, a perfect fit, almost as if it were made for you. What do you think? Being in the jewellery business you surely have an opinion. How many carats do you think?’

     
‘More than I can count. It’s beautiful.’

I’ve got to get myself out of this and quick. I’m getting deeper and deeper and deceiving people more and more. I can’t do this.
She gestures to Lionel.

     
‘Some grapes would go nice with this brandy. Yes, I know. Don’t give me that look. Would you please ask Cedric if he has any?’

Lionel sighs and for the first time ever I hear him speak.

      ‘They’ll play havoc with your ulcer so don’t go blaming me later.’

     
‘You have an ulcer?’ I ask.

     
‘So the doctor’s say. What do they know? Between you and me, this lot here,’ she waves towards the window, ‘would have me in a nursing home tomorrow if I wasn’t so overpowering. A weaker woman wouldn’t have survived.’

She makes them sound like the family from hell.

      ‘Except Brice of course,’ she says, her voice softening. ‘That’s if he’s around when they do it and not in the depths of the jungle somewhere seeing to some war chief’s wounds,’ she sighs.

When they do it? God
, she makes it sound like they’re planning to knock her off. Mind you, I’d put nothing past that Hamilton. No wonder she’s got a manic cat. It’s probably her only protection. I twiddle the ring around my finger and it then occurs to me that it’s odd to talk about nursing homes when you only have a few months to live.

     
‘Right then my dear,’ she says brightening. ‘I think next weekend would be good for the engagement party, what do you think? You’re not tied up with anything are you?’

     
‘Well …’ I begin. Hopefully I’ll be tied to several washing machines and tumble driers doing what I do best and catching up on my studies.

     
‘We can discuss it over dinner. Ah good,’ she says on seeing the bowl of grapes in Lionel’s hand.

Holy shit, I’m going to need a bloody miracle to get me out of this. A great deal of laughter and shouts tells us everyone has returned from the shoot. The door flies open and Fiona glides in.

      ‘Sorry to disturb,’ she says in that posh smoky voice she has now well developed. Hell, she’s turning into one of them. ‘Would you mind awfully if I missed dinner. I’m desperately sorry Harriet but we have a problem at the New York office and you’ll need to sign some papers urgently to be faxed over to Dudley. I’ve arranged an urgent appointment with a local solicitor.’

You’ll appreciate that I don’t have a bleeding clue what she’s on about so just look at her blankly, anticipation prickling at my nerves. Who is Dudley when he’s at home? Brice stands behind her and his effect on me is unnerving. I feel he can see right through me.

      ‘Our family lawyer can sort this out for you surely,’ says Margarita. ‘Lionel, get Parker on the phone …’

     
‘No,’ I say quickly. ‘I couldn’t possibly impose. Anyway it sounds like Fiona has everything set up.’

     
‘I’m very sorry. It was actually my fault. We have a seven-thirty appointment Harriet, I’m sorry for the inconvenience.’

I drain my glass, attempt to regain my composure and with trembling hands replace the ring back into the box.

      ‘You’ll need James,’ says Brice.

     
‘Oh no really, I feel awful as it is. Maybe we can hire a car,’ Fiona says quickly.

     
‘You can take my Porsche,’ says Hamilton, looking confused.

     
‘Fabulous, thanks so much,’ smiles Fiona.

Blimey she
’s good. Bloody good in fact. I follow her out.

     
‘Thank God you’re a better liar than me,’ I whisper.

I’m on the bottom stair when Hamilton’s arm encircles my waist.

      ‘What’s going on?’ he asks quietly.

     
‘It’s complicated,’ I say, feeling all my senses on fire as Brice scrutinises me over the rim of his brandy glass.

     
‘Those tiresome gangsters aren’t hassling you here are they?’

Tiresome?
Oh, what different worlds we live in.

     
‘Kind of, I’ll just sign the papers and I’ll be back before you can say Jack Robinson,’ I say loudly.

It would have to be Jack wouldn’t it?

     
‘You can’t be serious,’ says Fiona, shaking her head in disbelief.

     
‘What do you suggest then? He said not a bleeding Sainsbury’s carrier bag and apart from this, a Sainsbury’s carrier bag is all I have,’ I mumble, studying the map that Cedric had lent me.

     
‘How are we supposed to leave the house carrying a suitcase? If Hamilton sees you he’ll think you’re doing a runner.’

I so wish I was.

      ‘What about my Cath Kidston holdall?’ she says genuinely.

I feel nauseous with nerves.

      ‘You think a pink floral holdall is more appropriate do you?’ I say, not even attempting to hide my irritation.

     
‘Well it’s that or your pink suitcase. We’re supposed to be going to a meeting not a bloody spa weekend. How do we explain why we’re taking a suitcase?’

     
‘Paperwork,’ I suggest.

She shakes her head.
I scrape my hair back into a ponytail and look at her.

     
‘Well, what do you suggest, we don’t have anything else?’ I snap, pulling the pink Primark case from under the bed.

Silently we drop five hundred and fifty pounds into the case along with a note written on Glenwood Manor personalised notepaper. Fiona reads it aloud.

      Dear Jack Diamond, I’m sorry but we could only get five hundred and fifty pounds from the cash machine. So please accept this as an IOU.

     
‘Jesus Christ Harry.’

I shrug.

      ‘You said they wouldn’t take a cheque.’

     
‘I don’t think they will take kindly to an IOU either.’

I zip up the suitcase and peek outside the door. I drop Fiona’s phone into my handbag, push my old woollen hat in there too and nod at her.

      ‘Let’s go,’ I say feeling myself buoyed up with adrenalin.

Fiona opens the door slowly
, peeks round it and then closes it again.

     
‘Do you think we should take a gun or something?’

     
‘Crikey, Fiona, what the hell are you going to do with a gun?’

     
‘Well, obviously to shoot them if they turn out to be psychos.’

I suppose she has a point. I check the time on her phone.

      ‘We don’t have time to sneak into the gun room. I’ll grab a tin of hairspray.’

     
‘What use is that? Are you going to threaten them with a wash and blow dry?’

She stands with her hand on the doorknob.

      ‘Harriet, I’m not sure this is a good idea. Maybe you should tell Hamilton’s family the truth. Or tell Brice, he seems nice.’

I shake my head.

      ‘I can’t. Hamilton will want back all the money he’s given me. I’ve got to get out of this debt Fiona. Otherwise my life will be ruined.’

     
‘I fucking hate Julian,’ she says her voice cracking with emotion. ‘You don’t deserve this.’

I fight back the tears that prick my eyelids and gesture to the door. She opens it cautiously.

      ‘Okay, all clear.’

I’m beginning to feel like we are off to pull a heist. Actually that’s not such a bad idea is it? We can borrow the guns from the gun room. It would be easy to buy balaclavas and then all we’d have to do is hold up a bank. No one need know it’s us. I mean, seriously
, who would ever suspect the two women staying at Glenwood’s aristocratic estate? I’m about to suggest the idea to Fiona when I see Sebastian mounting the stairs and I begin to sweat for all I’m worth.

     
‘Oh shit,’ mumbles Fiona.

     
‘You girls just off?’ he asks smiling.

I nod mutely, trying to discreetly push the suitcase behind me but it’s too late and he points to it.

      ‘Are you staying overnight there?’ he asks suspiciously.

Fiona laughs and shakes back her hair in the manner of a sex goddess but she obviously shakes it too much and wobbles on her wedges.

      ‘It’s all the paperwork. I feel so bad that I thought it would be better to have everything with us,’ she says, grabbing the bannister for support. ‘It would be Sod’s Law that we’ll get there and the one document we need, will be the one I left behind,’ she says, stressing each word with extreme hand gestures and shakes of her head.

Wow, doesn’t she sound like one efficient PA, not!

      ‘I prefer to have everything at hand at any important meeting,’ I add.

     
‘Well, let me carry it down the stairs for you. We don’t want you ladies doing yourselves an injury do we?’

     
‘No really it’s fine,’ I say quickly.

     
‘Good muscle exercise,’ says Fiona flexing her arm. Oh God, I do wish she would shut up. He looks at her oddly.

     
‘I’d be no gentleman if I let you carry this heavy thing all the way down the stairs,’ he says inclining his head towards the case. If only he knew. Then, before I can stop him, he crouches down beside the case and prepares himself to lift it. I pull a face at Fiona. He takes a breath and lifts the handles with such force that he reels backwards.

     
‘Good heavens, it’s as light as a feather,’ he says in a puzzled voice.

     
‘It’s just you’re awfully strong Sir Sebastian,’ purrs Fiona fluttering her eyelashes.

Good God, what is she playing at?

      ‘I’ll put it into the Porsche for you,’ he says, flustered.

     
‘Sebastian, thank you so much,’ she says huskily.

I gawp at them like an im
becile and then quickly follow. Two minutes later Fiona is waving gratefully from the Porsche while Sebastian stares after us with a bemused look on his face.

* * *

      ‘Holy shit,’ says Fi.

Fiona and I sit in the Porsche staring at Glengarry estate in a state of shock. I’m not sure what Fi and I expected but it certainly wasn’t this.

      ‘I need a drink,’ Fi says eventually.

I stare at the run
-down houses which make the Mardyke Estate look like luxury apartments. The buildings look like they will fall down if you so much as blow on them. At that moment a couple of youths wearing leather jackets begin to stroll towards the Porsche and I pull my hat lower over my eyes.

     
‘Oh shit, I told you we should have brought guns,’ moans Fiona.

     
‘You can’t shoot everyone that approaches us,’ I say, not taking my eyes off the youths whose numbers seem to have doubled.

     
‘Oh God,’ says Fiona in a shaky voice. ‘Do they look like the type that would bang gang us?’

     
‘What?’

     
‘I mean gang-bang us,’ she says wringing her hands.

I start the engine again and continue on. They give us a two finger salute as we pass
, and Fiona takes a deep breath. We pass dirty faced children playing in the streets, burnt out cars and women in aprons smoking as their kids kick footballs at parked cars. But there is no sign of a disused warehouse. Fiona points eagerly and I follow her finger to a run-down off-licence where several youths stand around swigging from a whisky bottle. What I wouldn’t do for a quick swig too.

     
‘God, this is not the place to bring a Porsche,’ says Fiona, stating the bloody obvious as only Fiona can.

She has a point though. If we leave the car for so much as five seconds it will be pounced upon and then how the hell do I explain to everyone that Hamilton’s car no longer has tyres, hubcaps or a radio? In fact how do I explain that Hamilton no longer has a car? Fiona is right
. This not the place to bring a Porsche. In fact, it’s not a place to bring a car, period. It’s certainly not the place for two aristocratic women either. I miserably think it is probably the right place for a laundrette manager though.

     
‘You’ll have to stay in the car while I meet Jack Diamond.’

     
‘No way,’ she squeals. ‘I’m not going to be the centre of rape and pillage thank you very much. Not unless they all look like Colin Firth, which is highly unlikely.’

     
‘Can’t you fantasise?’ I joke. ‘Just think of
Pride and Prejudice
.’

     
‘How can you make fun at a time like this?’ she cries.

     
‘You meet Diamond and I’ll stay in the car then.’

     
‘You must be joking. I want to hang onto my ears, thank you very much.’

I bring the car to a screeching halt when I spot a disused warehouse ahead of us. We both peer through the windscreen.

      ‘This must be it,’ whispers Fiona. ‘We can both go. We can easily see the car from the warehouse.’

Adrenalin is pumping madly though my body. My shoulders are tense and my head thumps.

      ‘Supposing they have Julian and he’s all beaten and battered,’ I say anxiously.

     
‘You make him sound like a piece of cod,’ quakes Fiona.

I unlock the car and step out cautiously. Thank God it’s still light. I lift the suitcase from the boot and begin walking towards the warehouse.

      ‘Wait for me,’ squeals Fiona, struggling with her glasses.

The door of the warehouse creaks open and a well-dressed man appears in the doorway. I drop the case in fear when two other men appear from the shadows.

      ‘‘ello ‘arriet, who’s yer friend?’

     
‘Oh my God, he has a finger missing,’ she whispers.

     
‘Don’t draw attention to it,’ I whisper back.

     
‘These are seriously hard Harry. I told you we should have brought a gun.’

     
‘Who are
your
friends,’ I say trying to sound cocky but my voice shakes.

He looks
at the suitcase.

     
‘What the ‘ell is that?’

I lift up my pink Primark suitcase and clutch it tightly to my hip.

      ‘It’s the money you asked for.’

     
‘The monkey,’ adds Fiona.

I cock my head at her.

      ‘Sorry,’ she mumbles.

     
‘You brought it in a
pink
suitcase?’ he asks, his eyes widening. ‘And why’s it so big, you taking the piss ‘arriet?’

I struggle to see the other two men whom I presume are Mad Jack Junior and
Babyface Jack but they stay in the shadows.

     
‘You said not to bring it in a Sainsbury’s carrier bag. If you had a favourite colour you should have told me,’ I snap, feeling irritated as well as anxious.

     
‘Ouch,’ whispers Fiona hanging onto my arm and I feel the trembling of her body.

He gestures to one of the men who steps forward to take the suitcase and both Fiona and I jump back. The other man ventures out of the shadows and averts his face but I recognise him immediately and step forward.

      ‘Harry, what are you doing?’ trembles Fiona.

     
‘Is that you Jack?’ I ask.

He bows his head and looks uncomfortable.

      ‘Me lad Babyface,’ says Jack Diamond, pulling the man forward.

I gasp. I know him. He comes into the laundrette. I stare into his eyes and he looks away.

      ‘But I know you, we’ve chatted in the laundrette. I’ve always been nice to you. I thought you were a decent person,’ I yell. ‘Do you have any idea what you’ve done?’

     
‘Harry,’ Fiona quakes, ‘don’t upset them. Do you want a Valium?’

Don’t upset them? How about the way they have upset me?

      ‘I folded your shirts and paired your socks. I should have strung them all together and bleeding throttled you,’ I say feeling my anger well over.

     
‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ groans Fiona, frantically shaking Valium from a bottle. ‘God Harry, we’ll lose more than our ears if you go on like this.’

I let out a long sigh.

      ‘My sons are spoilt. I blame their mother, yer know what I mean. Now, let’s get back to business,’ says Jack Diamond with a jerk of his head and a twitch of his shoulders. Sod this for a game of soldiers. I’ve paid their monkey and the ton.

     
‘I’m not talking business with you or your stupid sons. You killed my goldfish,’ I say accusingly to Babyface Jack.

Mad Jack Junior takes a step forward and Fiona lets out a small moan and
tries to pull me towards the car.