"Brava, cara! Brava!" Ilaria reties the halter, letting the straps fall artfully down my back. "Let me tell you what was wrong with the original version, so you will never make that same mistake again."
My day and my outfit rescued by Ilaria's wizardry, I leave the wardrobe trailer floating on cloud nine. Outside in the garden, I answer my ringing mobile with a breathy hello.
Kate's voice greets me. "Hiya Nat, you sound out of breath. Have you just finished shooting? I guess you will want to go home and change before we meet for drinks. Shall we say 7pm, at the restaurant bar?"
I glance down at my feet, encased in gold leather gladiator sandals on loan from the Costume department. "No need to wait, I'm ready now. I was thinking, maybe we should go by Mathilde's flat. Make sure she's not feeling too nervous before her big date. What do you think?"
"Ooh, that is a good idea. I'll meet you there."
I swallow back a laugh when Kate's taxi pulls up in front of Mathilde's house seconds ahead of me. "I knew I should have walked here," she huffs when she sees me standing beside her car door. "I forget how terrible traffic can be leaving the centre. I was stuck at the big roundabout at The Plain for ages."
We ring the bell and beam at Mathilde when she opens the door. "What on Earth?"
"Hi there! We thought you might be nervous about your big date, so we came over to provide moral support," I explain as I push past her, striding confidently inside.
"Is that what you're planning to wear?" Kate asks after she kisses Mathilde's cheeks in hello. "Speaking of clothing… Nat, that dress is fabulous. Where did you get it?"
To give Mathilde her due, she accepts our interruption without complaint, but can't stop herself from rolling her eyes at us as she leads us to her room. After I model my new dress, I plump up the pillows and perch on the bed. Kate claims the desk chair and both of us turn to Mathilde.
"Got any other new clothes hiding away?" Kate asks, tilting sideways as she attempts to peer around Mathilde. "Show us everything you've got. We'll help you choose."
Mathilde remains firm, crossing her arms and tapping her toe. "Are you two here to help, or is this a spy mission to see what else I bought during my makeover shopping spree?"
"The second one," I admit with a broad wink. Mathilde throws her hands in the air but does as she's told.
As Mathilde spreads options on the foot of the bed, Kate scrutinises her. "Where is Trevor taking you tonight?"
"I'm meeting Trevor for drinks at The Varsity and then I assume we'll go somewhere else for dinner." Mathilde replies as she gamely tries on a few options with us quickly vetoing them.
I clear my throat as she straightens a shirt on a hanger. "Are you going to drop any other hints about the existence of the magic?"
Mathilde frowns, but doesn't reply until she finishes pulling a new shirt over her head. "I don't know, Nat. I feel as though I should, but I don't want to risk ruining our first date. Would it be wrong of me to ignore the topic all together?"
Kate steps in smoothly before I can respond. "Not at all, Mathilde. First dates are stressful enough on their own. Set all our current worries aside for an evening, and just enjoy yourself. You deserve a night of fun."
"We all do!" I chime in, making everyone laugh. "While you're off on your big date, Kate and I are going to retreat to the Head of the River pub for a dinner of our own and bask in the warmth of the summer evening."
"Head of the River pub?" Mathilde pauses, hairbrush in hand. "I love that place. They have the best fish and chips platter."
I lift a single eyebrow and cock my head, meeting Mathilde's gaze in the mirror. "You could always skip your date and come with us…"
"Ha! No thanks, I'll stick to my original plans." Mathilde spins around and sends a hairband flying in my direction. "Go off and have your girls' night. If you two stay here and keep up this act for much longer, you are going to make me late. Go!"
"Fine, fine. We're going," I fake grumble as I rise to my feet. "But you better text us the very moment you get home and tell us everything."
"Everything," Kate echoes. Mathilde picks up an abandoned shoe and threatens to launch it at us, sending us scurrying out of her room and down the stairs to the front door.
"Bye, Mathilde. Have fun on your date," I shout up. "Ring us if you need anything!"
"Don't wait for my call," Mathilde replies cheekily.
Laughing, Kate and I stroll along the pavement, making our way to the pub for a much-needed evening of relaxation.
❖
The restaurant hostess leads us to a picnic table in the garden and hands us a stack of menus, daily specials, and wine lists. Overlooking the River Thames, every table in the garden is taken. The gentle lapping of the water melds with the hum of conversation, creating a relaxing soundtrack for our evening meal.
Kate flips through the menu, her sleek, dark hair reflecting the deep red tones of the evening sun. "Shall we start with a pitcher of Pimm's and some appetisers? I'm not in any rush."
"Sounds good to me. Now that I've finished filming my scenes, I feel like a small celebration is in order."
We flag down a passing waiter and place our order, sighing with relief when he returns moments later with two icy glasses and a tall pitcher, fresh fruit floating atop the amber liquid. As the first sip goes down, I'm reminded why this is practically the English drink of choice for a hot summer's day. It is at once both refreshing and soothing, with only a hint of the spicy gin at its core.
"Tell me about the house," Kate orders as we nibble on a bowl of crisps. "Are you nearly done with the remodel?"
"We're getting there, but every time I think we're close to being done, there is another decision to be made or another construction delay." I take another sip of Pimm's to settle myself. "On the positive side, my Uncle Harold's partner Dominic has offered to help with the interior design. You haven't met him yet, but I'm positive you two would be thick as thieves together. His eye for art is legendary."
"Really?" Kate drawls. "Then you absolutely must arrange for an intro. I've been wanting to change a few things at my place; perhaps he could help. If I wait until I have free time, I'll never get around to it."
"Speaking of free time, I haven't heard you mention anything about a summer holiday plan. Are you going to get away at all?"
Kate gives me a long look over the rim of her glass, her eyes heavy with emotion. It almost looks like sadness. I freeze in place, replaying my last words in my head, wondering what I said wrong.
"I wanted to go away, someplace warm and exotic like the Maldives or Malta."
"But?" I ask, prodding her to explain.
"I'd have to go without Bartie."
Her words hang in the air.
"Oh god, Kate. I'm sorry. I didn't think… of course he can't leave."
Kate's head snaps up. "He can leave."
I rock back on the bench, catching myself before I tumble off. "What do you mean he can leave? I thought the Eternals were bound to remain within the borders of the magic. If he can travel, why can't he go with you?"
"It doesn't work like that, Nat," Kate says, shaking her head in dismay. "Oxford is the only place where the magical world and our world align. For the rest of it, I guess the easiest way to explain it is to imagine two concentric circles that overlap at a single point — here in Oxford. Bartie can go to his Malta, but he can't come to mine."
"Wait. So, are you saying that the Eternals have their own little universe, for lack of a better term? But if that is the case, then why could Edward and I take H with us to London?"
Kate shrugs. "You know as well as I do that the creatures are different from the ghostly Eternals like Bartie. Their spirits are anchored to live animals, which allows them to eat and move around, but also get tired and need to rest. They didn't live and die, and therefore don't have the same connection to the Eternal realm."
I stare at Kate, my mind spinning. "Wow. I mean, I never… but wow. And also, that sucks, Kate. I'm so sorry that you
r relationship with Bartie has these constraints. It hardly seems fair."
Kate gives me a wan smile. "Don't pity us too much, Nat. We've found one another, which is no mean feat. Who cares about the beach anyway? All that sand gets stuck in everything."
"Oh, definitely," I agree. "Sand is the worst."
Having run out of words, we both sit in silence. I use the moment to top up our drinks and call the waiter over to take our dinner orders. Kate takes a fortifying sip of her Pimm's cup, forcing the melancholic thoughts from her mind.
"Let's talk about something nicer. How about you and Edward? When is his big move into the house scheduled?"
I feel a smile bloom. "August. We're hoping to get away for a few weeks in July, after the production wraps up. He wants to be completely out of boxes and living comfortably before term starts in October."
"That's quite a whirlwind romance you two have had, Nat," Kate cracks. "From enemies to friends to partners-in-crime-fighting, and soon, official housemates. What's next? Marriage?"
She laughs at her own joke, but I choke on my drink.
"Oh no, what did I say?" Kate says as she passes me napkins and fans my flushed face. "Marriage? Are you getting married?"
I finally manage to stop coughing long enough to get a word out. "Goodness no, not as far as I know. Not that I'm opposed to the idea. But it would be really too soon, right? There's no need to rush; we've got plenty of time and no pressure and now we've got the house." I force my mouth closed, feeling a blush creep up my neck. "I'm babbling, aren't I?"
Kate snorts, "Completely babbling, but in the most lovely, endearing way. And you are right. There is no rush, and besides, if you are living together, will a piece of paper really change anything?"
"No," I shake my head, but inside, can't help but wonder if I'm telling the truth.
Our food arrives, its steaming heat sending wafts of delicious smells all around us. By the time the waiter finishes laying out the dishes and cutlery, topping up drinks and asking if we need anything else, the conversation moves on.
Something tells me, though, I'll be mulling over Kate's question later. If marriage is what I want, I don't have to sit back and wait for it to happen. But first, we've got a house is finish remodelling, Edward has to move in, and life must settle down to something approaching normal. Once all of that is in place, I'll think about what I want next.
❖
Over dessert I remember the other topic I wanted to discuss with Kate — Mathilde, her future love interests, and the secret of the existence of Oxford's magic. While thinking about how to phrase the question, I scrape my bowl, getting every last hint of cream remaining from the Eton Mess I ordered, and plop it into my mouth.
"Do you want me to look the other way so you can lick the bowl clean?" Kate asks sarcastically.
I wink at her as I threaten to make one more pass with my spoon, earning a snicker in response. Setting the empty bowl aside, I swap my relaxed grin for a more serious expression. "There was one more thing I wanted to mention about Mathilde, something Edward pointed out to me, if you can believe it."
"Edward?" Kate scrunches her forehead, completely stumped.
"We were chatting about Mathilde and Trevor's date. Unsurprisingly, Edward used it as an opportunity to bring up again the question of telling Trevor about the magic of Oxford."
Kate shifts sideways, propping her chin up with her hand. "Have you changed your mind about telling him?"
"No, not at all. However, Edward made the point that someday, whenever Mathilde finds the person she wants to commit to, we may be faced with the same question. Every prefect generation before us kept the magic a secret from their partner. But then you found love with an Eternal, and I stumbled upon another descendant…"
"And Mathilde is the one left out." Kate finishes. "Hmm, I hadn't thought about this at all. And you say Edward was the one to bring it up?"
"He said he knew all too well what it was like being the odd one out. Even if he and I weren't in a relationship yet, he was around us enough to know that something weird was there." I tap my fingers on the table, still considering the question. "History dictates that Mathilde should keep quiet, but it's hardly fair to hamstring her relationship if she picks someone outside of our inner circle."
"Have you talked to Mathilde about this?"
"No, I wanted to discuss it with you first." When Kate looks at me askance, I hasten to add, "Not because I want to stand in her way… far from it. But if you disagree, or if you see a problem I'm missing, I didn't want us to end up arguing about it in front of her."
Kate sits upright and places her hand back on the table. She looks me in the eye and smiles. "What is it they say about love, Nat? Something about when you find it, you want everyone around you to experience the same? That's how I feel about Mathilde. There is nothing I would say or do to stand in the way of Mathilde making a full and honest commitment to her special person. Whoever he or she might be."
I open my mouth to add my agreement, but a nasally male voice intrudes before I can.
"Hear, hear, Kate. Mighty generous of you. Too bad you don't feel the same about everyone else."
Kate rears back in shock as a middle-aged man drags a chair over and plonks himself down at the end of our picnic table, uninvited. I squint my eyes in confusion, but soon enough the light bulb goes on. The paunch, the sallow complexion and the thinning dark hair are all things I've seen before, in a photo on the wall of the Torture Museum.
"Beadle," Kate seethes, forcing the words from between her teeth. "What are you doing in Oxford?"
"What are you doing in Oxford?" he mocks her, repeating her words in a falsetto. He sits back comfortably in his chair, his mouth turned up in a sneer. He ignores me as though I wasn't even there. His attention is laser-focused on Kate. "Do you have any idea what it is like to work for something your whole life, and then have it ripped away from you at the last minute? The Directorship should have been mine! It was mine, everyone knew it!"
He clenches his hand into a fist, his face florid with anger. "I had bled my heart and soul into the Ashmolean. And then you swan in at the last moment and have the hiring board eating out of your hand."
"Swanned in?" Kate squeaks, livid.
Oswald Beadle cuts her off, refusing to give Kate an inch. "Everyone expected me to bow to the decision. I spent years earning their respect, and instead, I end up getting nothing but looks of pity. Poor Oswald, passed over for promotion," he mimics in a high-pitched voice. "The only reason I stayed was to make sure you failed. I wanted the hiring board and everyone else at the museum to see you, the new golden girl, flop spectacularly. And instead, you tossed me out to the kerb like a piece of rubbish."
I watch as Beadle's words crash onto the table. Kate's eyes practically glow red. I reach over and lay a hand on her arm, reminding her we're in public.
Beadle huffs, "As I was being escorted from the building, without even the chance to gather my things, my mind was spinning. How could you possibly get rid of me?" He raises a hand and points a finger in Kate's face. "You should have been bowing down and thanking me for showing you how to do your job."
He lowers his hand, his sneer growing into an evil grin. "And then I found out your secret. You didn't deserve the job. You weren't more competent. It was magic. Bloody magic. Your only advantage over me was winning the genetic lottery."
Kate glares daggers. "That is not my only advantage, I assure you. You were too egotistical to realise the truth, Oswald. You were never going to get the Directorship. But tell me, how did you find out about the magic of Oxford?"
He smirks, ignoring Kate's insult. He is only too happy to tell us of his discovery. "I came back to the museum after hours. All I wanted was to take what was rightfully mine and to make you pay for what you had done to me." His tone rises in anger as he says, "Pay for the shame of being frogmarched out of the building! I crept into your office, dug through your drawer. I found the old key to the cabinet. When I stuck it into t
he cabinet lock, I felt the bolt of lightning all the way up my arm."
Kate stares him down, refusing to show any further hint of emotion. "Yes, we guessed as much. And so you discovered Oxford's secret."
His eyes glitter, making me realise how much Beadle is enjoying this moment. My presence at the table is irrelevant. Beadle has clearly been fantasising for months about confronting Kate. I can perfectly imagine what Kate's first week must have been like. Working alongside this atrocious man. I'm sure he lugged his superiority complex into every meeting. It must have been hell.
I remain still, not wanting to draw his attention. I subtly squeeze Kate's arm, holding her back from interrupting. The longer we let him go on, the higher the chances he'll let some critical piece of information slip out.
That said, listening to his squeaky, patronising voice makes me want to scream.
"I left your office, rubbing my elbow and none the wiser of the dramatic change I'd just wrought in my life. I crept down to the basement, to take one last walk through the museum… my museum… an old man was waiting for me there. At first, I thought he was a homeless man, snuck inside to look for a place to pass the night."
"Hobbes, I take it?" Kate interjects. She leans towards Beadle, goading him into revealing more. "What a disappointment you must have been! He waits nearly four centuries to speak to a descendant, and he ends up with a snivelling rat such as yourself."
Beadle's face turns beet red, his eyes growing wide. "You'd like to believe that, wouldn't you, Kate." He shifts his gaze to land on me for the first time. "Or you, Natalie Payne. Oh yes, I know who you are. I know all the Prefects, each of you less deserving than the next. The magic must be scraping the bottom of the barrel if you lot are the best Oxford has to offer."
I seethe but refuse to rise to the bait. "What do you want, Oswald? Why are you here? Aren't you nervous about being caught for your crimes?"
To my horror, Beadle laughs, sending a braying sound echoing across the restaurant patio. I duck my head as the people nearby turn to look in our direction.
Sabotage at Somerset: A charmingly fun paranormal cozy mystery (Oxford Key Mysteries Book 4) Page 14
