The Possessions of a Lady

by Jonathan Gash

  She hugged my arm. It gave me a lovely feeling, one I'd missed for days. I realised how bonny she looked now that relief had cheered her.

  'How will we manage the chain-dating agency, sweetheart?' she asked. 'I'll still operate it under the guise of an antiques firm, won't I?'

  'We'll head for some motel. I'm starving. I'll explain it all to you over nosh. Er, got any money?'

  'Yes,' she said eagerly, delving in her handbag.

  'Not in the street, silly cow,' I said. 'Later.'

  'Sorry, darling,' she said. We got in. 'I can't tell you how relieved I am, Lovejoy. I was frightened they would . . .'

  'Not while I'm around.' I made my lips a hero's, tight and grim. She pressed her mouth on mine. I broke away quickly. Wanda was lurking nearby, and where Wanda went her team was never far behind.

  If Wanda caught me up in East Anglia, I'd go to earth somewhere. Possibly, I thought, spirits lifting, with Lizbet among her sweetpeas. I had a brief mental image of fields, that beautiful fragrant blossom. I tried to invent a new title for Aureole's re-fashioned agency. Possessions of a Lady, maybe?

  That was how I'd started Briony's—or was it Amy's, Wanda's, or Thekla's?—auction. I had a hunger, thirst, a love-starved headache. 'Get going, love, or we'll be here all night.'

  'Sorry, Lovejoy,' she said breathlessly.

  A sports car's sudden deep-throated start nearby made me think of possible pursuers as we moved off.

  'Head for Rotherham,' I said quickly, looking over my shoulder. 'They've got the world's best collection of Rockingham china. Their museum's security might be naff.' Also, Wanda would assume I'd zoom south.

  'You can't mean you're going to steal?

  'Me? Course not.' I glanced anxiously back one more time. Not me. But I couldn't help remembering that she was a quick learner.