‘So I heard.’ She put a foot on the bottom rail of the outside school and joined Lottie in watching Rory do his best to persuade Flash to at least perform some of the steps he wanted her to.
‘And he disappeared early for a romantic encounter.’
‘How do you know? I wouldn’t have thought after a session with you lot he’d be up to it.’ She grinned, and Lottie decided to try another tack.
‘Do you think he does know Amanda? I mean, they were together in that picture in the paper, although Tabatha said it was a set-up.’
‘And teenagers know everything.’ Pip flinched as the horse kicked her heels within inches of the rail, sending a clod of compacted sand and rubber her way. ‘I honestly don’t know, it’s strange.’
‘And I think it was her that he met up with after.’
‘Do you?’ Pip kept her gaze fixed firmly on the horse and forced the grin back where it belonged. Out of sight.
‘Well, apparently he spent most of the night with a woman, and he doesn’t know anyone round here, does he? So I thought it figured that it must be her.’
‘He doesn’t know her either, according to him.’
‘Okay, maybe it was someone he met in London and brought here, but it seems odd, doesn’t it? I mean, he was tipsy when he left us. Do you think the papers were right? They do say there’s no smoke without fire. Maybe he really has come here to chat up Amanda. He’d make quite a sexy Lord of the Manor. And they would look good together, wouldn’t they?’
‘Hmm.’ Pip pondered the thought; Lottie had actually got a point. ‘But,’ she paused, ‘he did get here just before old Marcus kicked the bucket, didn’t he? Nope, I’m not sure. He doesn’t seem to be after her, but Elizabeth seems to think he’s up to something.’
‘Gran? What’s she been up to now?’ Lottie sounded resigned. Elizabeth didn’t need a fire to create a smokescreen; she was more than capable of summoning one out of thin air. ‘She doesn’t even know Tom; she’s only met him once.’ But thinking about it, she’d gone out of her way to talk to him at the hunt, which, at the time, Lottie had just put down to general nosiness. ‘And she hardly knows Amanda really – she never did approve of her and Marcus being in Folly Lake Manor. She said Marcus had got less taste than she had in her little fingernail, and how he got Amanda was a complete mystery. But I can see Amanda and Tom together, though, can’t you?’ Lottie had a dreamy look on her face as she watched Rory battle on with dignity. ‘They’re both so glam, but so sad.’
‘Tom isn’t sad.’
‘He is. He always looks like he needs a good hug.’
‘You’d need a hug if you had to go home to Tabby kitten every night.’
Lottie laughed. ‘I thought you were the one who said she was okay? Just a teenager, you said, when you were trying to persuade me to give her riding lessons. Maybe she needs rubber or nylon?’
An image of Tabatha in a rubber onesie was the last thing Pip wanted in her head right now. ‘I’d keep your fetishes to yourself, Lottie. Tom already thinks you’re a bit strange.’
‘Does he?’
‘Well I don’t know why you’ve got that innocent, hurt look on your face. You swig his champagne, promise him attention, then forget you said you’d meet him, and I daren’t imagine what else you’ve said to him.’
‘I did not promise him anything.’ Genuine indignation filled Lottie. ‘Like what? And what do you mean, fetishes? I haven’t got any fetishes.’ Lottie had now caught up on everything Pip had said, and was hit by a familiar feeling of confusion. ‘Have I?’ She couldn’t think for the life of her what Pip was on about. Okay, she did like it when Rory wanted to slap her on the bum, but that wasn’t a fetish, was it? And how did Pip know, if it was? ‘Who’s been saying things?’ She bit the inside of her cheek. ‘And what did they say?’
‘You just said it. How can you suggest Tab is wrapped in rubber or nylon and think that’s normal conversation?’
‘Did I?’ She pulled a face. ‘I didn’t. Rubber. Why would I wrap Tab in rubber?’ Now she was totally perplexed, enough to ignore the fact that Flash was heading for them at a hundred miles an hour with a grim-looking Rory seriously considering a bail-out before he did indeed lose his balls, along with other parts of his anatomy.
‘You just said,’ Pip took a hasty step back, ‘she needs rubber or nylon.’
Lottie giggled, then put a hand over her mouth, and giggled a bit louder, just as Flash reached them and put a smart 180-degree turn in that showered them with rubber and made Pip go pale. ‘I was talking about Flash, her bit, you know? I think she’s fighting her bit, and if it’s softer she might stop, but Rory’s too much of a wuss to try a bitless bridle, aren’t you?’ Despite the horse’s antics, Rory managed to flash the V’s and Lottie gave a broad grin. ‘I think black leather is more Tabatha’s style really, don’t you? Does he really think I’m weird?’
‘I think he fancies you, actually.’
‘Bollocks.’
‘He lusts after your fit body.’
‘And who can blame a man for that?’ Mick, with his broad forearms, was disturbingly close, which made the already shocked Lottie even more flustered about which way to turn.
‘Pip!’
‘And you confuse him.’ Pip shot Mick the type of look that was designed to silence him, and got a wink in return, which she ignored. ‘He thinks he wants a life in the country, but it scares him. All those rough men and tough women and scary, dirty horses.’
‘And who would want to settle for a man running scared eh, Pip?’ The pointed remark in her direction caught Pip off guard, just for a second.
‘Can’t we have a private conversation just for once, without a man butting in?’
‘Maybe,’ he leant in closer to the two of them, humour lacing his voice, ‘if you weren’t standing in the middle of the yard it would help.’ The warmth of his hand in the small of her back sent an unfamiliar sensation through Lottie’s body; one that wasn’t particularly unwelcome. He made her feel on edge, and from the look on Pip’s face it wasn’t just her.
‘Maybe if you were shoeing horses it wouldn’t be a problem.’ Now that was an interesting one, thought Lottie, Pip rattled. She didn’t often get sarcastic and irritated, but she was now.
‘Oh you’ve got a sharp tongue in that head of yours, treasure.’ Mick gave an easy laugh and put a finger under her chin. ‘It will get you into trouble one day, I’d say. But it was the fit body of Lottie I was after. When that horse has finished her job and dumped him, will you tell the man I need a word, darling?’
He chuckled and, with a broad grin, left them to it.
‘That man is so fucking annoying.’ Pip was bristling like a cross cat; his comment about Tom had annoyed her. What damned business was it of his if she’d spent time with Tom? And how did he know anyway, or was it just a good guess?
‘Hmm, I suppose he is, but he’s sexy isn’t he? You really reckon I confuse him, Tom, that is?’ Lottie frowned. ‘And he’s scared? How can anyone be scared in Tippermere? You’ve come over very philosophical.’ She didn’t think she was capable of confusing anyone but herself, but Pip in her current frame of mind was interesting.
Pip dragged herself back from thoughts of Mick to concentrate on Lottie and the conversation they were supposed to be having. ‘You don’t think it’s scary because you belong here. You came back, because you couldn’t not. It’s a part of you.’
‘Rubbish. I just ran out of money and Todd pissed me off. I never said I was coming back for good.’
‘True, you didn’t.’ Pip’s tone was dry. ‘But Tom’s the same. He’s here for a reason, and I want to know why. And so does he.’
‘You’re being weird.’
‘I know. But, trust me, there’s more to that pretty boy than meets the eye.’
‘You’re beginning to sound like Gran.’
Pip just smiled.
‘So, do you think it was Amanda he was with last night?’
‘No, I was.’ Which
wasn’t a lie, and Lottie could take it how she wanted. She was with Amanda, she was with Tom. It was a good job Mick had taken the hint and gone.
‘And she didn’t admit she knew him? I mean, how can they expect us to believe them when that photo has been in the paper. Even if goth girl does say it’s a set-up. Oops.’ Lottie’s attention was back on Rory, as he did a spectacularly gymnastic, and decidedly unplanned, dismount.
I told you it wouldn’t work, was on the tip of Lottie’s tongue, but she very wisely bit it back because the look on his face suggested he wouldn’t take it well. His latest strategy was to try and take the edge off Flash by a good long lunging session, before climbing on board to practise his dressage moves. It wasn’t working. If anything, she was using it as a limbering-up session so that she could be more athletic once he got in the saddle.
‘Maybe she’s agoraphobic.’
‘Maybe she’s taking the piss.’ Rory was staring at the horse, who was looking back unconcerned.
Pip sighed. Bloody horses, even she knew the comment had to be about the horse, not Amanda or Tab. Lottie could be such a catch if she spent more time on manicures and less time on mucking out. And Rory, well Rory had a body that she reckoned a good ninety per cent of the female population who were above the age of consent would be quite happy to use and abuse, and he was fun. And he was mad about Lottie. Even if she didn’t realise it yet. They were in denial, Pip decided.
‘I think she needs Dom.’
‘Who, Tab? You’re probably right, a firm hand would sort her.’
Lottie gave a dirty laugh, which made Rory, even in his mad state, perk up and grin. ‘No, I mean Flash, silly. And I meant Uncle Dom, not a dom.’
‘I think.’ Rory reached them in two easy strides and leant on the rail, brushing fragments of the arena off his breeches. ‘You can do whatever you want with her.’ He leaned forward to kiss Lottie on the cheek. ‘And that goes for the charming Tabatha and the lethal Flash. Then you can rub arnica into my bruised bits, darling Lots. Do you want to help, Pip?’
‘No, I don’t. It’s my day off.’
‘But this is pleasure not business.’
‘For you, maybe. I’m sure Lottie will rub whatever you want, though. I’ve mucked out the stables, so is that it?’
‘If you’re going to be a prude, I suppose it is.’
‘I am. Right, I’m off to do some research.’ She winked.
This left Lottie with more questions than answers, and Rory trying to decide whether throwing his girlfriend over his shoulder and marching to his bedroom was acceptable in this day and age.
‘Don’t look at me like that?’ Lottie was grinning, even as she was warning him off. ‘Mick wants to see you.’
‘I don’t care,’ Rory vaulted over the rails, ‘what Mick wants. Come here, and give me what I want, wench.’
Lottie squealed and made a run for it, Rory in hot pursuit, forgetting the niggle of annoyance that had filled him when he’d seen his farrier friend with a hand on Lottie’s waist moments earlier. If he’d not lost his concentration he wouldn’t have been thrown off. But every cloud, as they said. He made a lunge, caught her leg with one hand as he fell, taking her with him. ‘Now, let’s see what a firm hand does for you, shall we?’
Chapter 11
‘England’s safe hands to scupper model’s best shot?’
Elizabeth read the headlines then folded the newspaper neatly. ‘Clever girl, another gin?’ If there was one thing she liked it was a clever brain, another she liked even more was a mischief-maker. And the picture was a classic: Amanda flanked by the imposing figure of the England goalkeeper on one side and the immaculate Armani underwear model, Tom, on the other. ‘And how did you do that, dear?’
Pip smiled; she was actually quite pleased with herself for orchestrating the photo shoot.
‘How about you tell me what you know about Tom first?’ She poured them both a generous slug of gin, added a splash of tonic, just to be polite, and sat down.
Elizabeth gave her the gimlet stare, and then her wrinkled face suddenly broke into a grin that threatened to crack it open. ‘You are a wicked girl.’
‘You’re worse.’
‘Thomas, ah, the gorgeous Thomas.’ Elizabeth took a sip of the drink, found it exactly how she liked it and took a proper mouthful before tipping her head and holding the picture at arm’s length so that she could see it better. ‘What do you know about him?’
Pip shrugged. ‘Only the normal. Successful model, grasping wife, broken heart.’ Sexy body, pretty good stamina and a hangdog look and floppy fringe that could break a softer heart, she could have added, but wisely didn’t.
‘But before that?’
‘Well.’ She sat back and filtered the few facts she did know through her brain again, just in case sifting through uncovered something new and more interesting. The devil is in the detail, didn’t they say? But in this case, she was obviously missing something, or hadn’t joined all the dots together in the right way. ‘I do know he’s from a rich family, his father was a banker, but it’s hard to find out more, and believe me I’ve tried. Tom never tells anyone anything, and I mean anything.’ Even when his legs are tangled around yours.
‘The more money you have, the deeper you can bury the facts. You’re right though, his father was a banker.’
Pip waited. She’d suspected for a long time that Elizabeth knew more than she’d volunteered.
‘He was rich, seriously rich. A very nice, well-educated man with an impeccable background.’ She gave a heavy, resigned sigh. ‘But unfortunately he got greedy. There was a scandal and some kind of boring crash.’ She waved a hand dismissively, but Pip wasn’t falling for it. Elizabeth might play the female fool, but she wasn’t. Being bored with the facts was an act. Pip was pretty sure she knew every single one and had interrogated each within an inch of its life, and knew to the nearest pound how much the Strachan’s had lost and how closely they’d judged escape. ‘He had to sell the family estate and move, to Australia I think.’ The corner of her mouth quirked into the semblance of a smile, and she took another sip of her drink. ‘Appropriate. Took his wife and family and disappeared down-under until the feathers stopped flying. Not a very original escape, but then the man was a mathematician, so I suppose it’s what you would expect.’
‘And?’
‘And?’ Elizabeth looked innocent as she drained her glass. ‘Olives would have been nice.’
‘The point?’ Pip went over to the cabinet and rescued a bowl that looked like it had been served more than once. It could have been herbs or dust that decorated the dull green surface, she wasn’t sure.
‘Some people might call you rude, dear.’
‘Oh come on, spill.’
‘The family home that they had to sell, when Thomas was still in nappies—’
‘Was Folly Lake Manor?’ Pip uttered the words just to fill the gap. She didn’t mean it; a preposterous idea.
‘I knew you’d work it out in the end, dear.’
Pip blindly reached for the gin bottle and sloshed another generous measure into both their glasses while it sunk in. Wow, this was better than she could have imagined. ‘Christ, he’s got the hots for the place not the grieving widow. Hasn’t he?’ She glanced at Elizabeth. ‘So he does want it, he wants it back doesn’t he? And you knew all along.’
‘I’m not sure. He was born here, but I’m not sure he knows.’
‘Don’t be daft, he must.’
‘He was a baby when it happened. And they hid everything well; some people can be discreet, my dear. My guess is that he knows it was this area, but not this house.’
‘Some coincidence.’
Elizabeth reached for the tonic bottle, which was unheard of. ‘I’m not sure. His father kept things close to his chest, so I do think it could be coincidence. Although I’m sure his mother would have loved to see him here.’ She paused to ponder, then her normal decisive tone returned. ‘But if young Thomas doesn’t know, he will do when t
his news filters through to his parents, and that could be interesting. Ever been on the wrong end of a gagging order, dear?’
‘You’ve done this on purpose!’ Pip tried to digest the news, and failed. Tom had never given a single indication that he was seriously after this place. The article had been a bit of fun, encouraged by Elizabeth, to stir things up. But thinking back, he was interested in the bloody place, and it was more than casual. One mention and he’d perked up, and she’d been daft enough to think it was Amanda who was the lure. In fact, any mention of Folly Lake Manor made his metaphorical ears prick up. Which was how she’d persuaded him to go to Amanda’s and meet David and Sam. But she’d never for a moment thought his main interest was the house, she’d just assumed it was the glamorous and restrained Amanda. Model fodder. Just the type of woman that appealed to a man like him. But this changed things.
‘Oh, Philippa,’ Elizabeth smiled, ‘I have not done anything.’
Pip grimaced and tried to work out if she was being manipulated by the old dragon or not. And why? The first article to hit the headlines, with Amanda and Tom, had been spontaneous, and irresistible. And she hadn’t actually been responsible for it. But the latest one, with David and Tom in the frame, had been carefully judged and was all her own work, it was a lead-in to the double-page spread, complete with puppy picture, which her editor had been gagging for. Once she got Tom to give up a frigging precious puppy. ‘So, you reckon he wants to buy the place?’
‘I think he’s drawn to it, but he doesn’t know why yet.’ She patted a dog, which Pip took to be Holmes given the way he rolled over and showed his ample belly absentmindedly. Bertie was above that kind of thing. Or was it the other way round? ‘I’m sure he’s getting there, though.’
‘You’re up to something, aren’t you Elizabeth?’
‘Nonsense. What on earth could I be up to?’
But she was, Pip knew. There was more to this than met the eye. She was stirring for a reason, she never did anything without a reason, but Pip just had to find out what.
The Little Shop of Afternoon Delights Page 110
