Sheer Mischief

by Jill Mansell

  “This wallpaper, Constable,” barked one of them. “Arrest it immediately.”

  “What about the robe, Detective Inspector?” demanded another.

  “Arrest the wallpaper first, Constable. Charge it with being pink.”

  “Aye, aye, sir. And the robe, sir? What shall I charge that with?”

  “Easy peasy,” yelled Maxine, by this time almost helpless with laughter. “Grievous bodily harm!”

  Each of the cricketers was over six feet tall. Janey had never felt so small in her life.

  “OK, very funny,” she said evenly. “Now get out.”

  “Can’t get out, only just got in,” protested the man she had seen at Berenice’s wedding, the one who was with Maxine. Behind him, his even taller friend was solemnly addressing the wall: “…but I have to warn you that anything you do say will be taken down and used in evidence.”

  “Out,” repeated Janey, her voice firm.

  “In-out-in-out, shake it all about,” chanted the other two. To her absolute horror, they were pushing past her, hokey-pokeying toward the stairs.

  “She said you’d make us a cup of coffee,” explained Maxine’s cricketer with what he no doubt thought was a beguiling grin. “Oh, come on, Janey. Don’t be cross. We won’t stay long. We aren’t really arresting your wallpaper.”

  Frantic with worry that any minute now they were going to come face-to-face with Bruno—there wasn’t even room for him to hide in her wardrobe—she wrenched the front door open again and glared at Maxine as ferociously as she knew how.

  “No! You’re all drunk, and you aren’t getting any coffee. Now leave.”

  Maxine, unperturbed by the lack of welcome, simply giggled. “Gosh, Janey, has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful when you’re angry? And we’re not drunk, just…merry. I’ve told you a million times: don’t exaggerate.”

  This was awful. Janey considered bursting into tears to show them she meant it.

  But Maxine was on a mission, and she wasn’t about to allow an uncooperative elder sister to put her off. “One quick coffee,” she insisted, attempting to pry Janey away from the door. “Well, one each would be even better. You see, darling, we felt sorry for you…no man, no social life…so we thought we’d come and cheer you up. Now isn’t that a kind gesture?” She broke off, observing Janey’s stony expression, and pouted. “Oh cheer up, Janey. You could at least be a teeny bit grateful.”

  Janey would have preferred to be a teeny bit violent. The next moment she swung around in panic. The hokey-pokeyers, after several wobbly false starts, had actually made it up the staircase. As she watched them lurch toward the door at the top of the stairs, one of them bawled, “Open, sesame!”

  And to her horror, it did.

  “I say, what a brilliant trick,” said Maxine. Then, as Bruno appeared in the doorway, she did a classic double take. “Oh, I definitely say! No wonder you didn’t want to let us in. Two’s company, seven’s a crowd. Or an orgy…”

  Bruno’s pink-and-gray-striped shirt and gray trousers were only slightly crumpled, and he had combed his hair. Having had time to compose himself, he was also looking amazingly relaxed.

  “I’ve made the coffee,” he said, meeting Janey’s petrified gaze. “But there’s no milk left, so it’ll have to be black.” Pausing to survey the state of the astonished, bleary-eyed cricketers, he added pointedly, “Under the circumstances, maybe it’s just as well.”

  • • •

  “So now we’re getting down to the nitty-gritty,” crowed Maxine when Bruno had made his excuses and left. The cricketers, having piled into the tiny kitchen, were trying to remember whether they took sugar. Maxine, sitting cross-legged on the floor, was avid for details. “The secret life of Janey Sinclair! Not only is she having a rip-roaring affair with a practically married man, but she has the confidence to do it in a ten-year-old terry-cloth robe.”

  “I am not having an affair with Bruno.” Janey struggled to remain calm. If she lost her temper, Maxine would know for sure she’d struck gold. She had to be plausible. “If I were,” she added, improvising rapidly, “I wouldn’t be wearing this robe, would I?”

  “Hmm. I wouldn’t put it past you,” retorted Maxine, still looking deeply suspicious. “In that case, why are you wearing it?”

  “We went out for a meal. I spilled red wine on my jeans.” This, at least, was the truth. Gesturing toward the bathroom, she said, “They’re soaking in the basin, if you’d like to check for yourself. Or maybe you’d prefer to send them off to forensics.”

  “So you went out to dinner and came back here afterward for a nightcap? You sat here chatting and didn’t notice the time? I’m sorry, darling, but I don’t believe you.”

  Inwardly close to despair, Janey said, “Well, you’re just going to have to. Because if I was having an affair with Bruno I’d tell you. But I’m not, so there’s nothing to tell. Got it?”

  “Don’t be-lieve you,” repeated Maxine in a singsong voice.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, it’s the truth! Why can’t you see that?”

  Maxine unraveled herself and leaned slowly forward. “Because I’m the untidy sister,” she said joyfully, “and you’re the efficient, organized one.”

  “What?”

  Reaching under the sofa, Maxine pulled out the primrose-yellow bra that Janey had been wearing earlier and that Bruno had missed when he’d bundled up the rest of her clothes and slung them on the bed. “Exhibit number one, m’lord,” she said, her expression triumphant. “And no need for further cross-examination. Leaving items of lacy underwear beneath the settee? Janey, it just isn’t you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Elsie Ellis, who lived above the bakery next door and who thrived on gossip, wasted no time the following morning. Bustling into Janey’s shop with a self-important air and exuding as she always did the aroma of chocolate doughnuts, she was scarcely able to contain her impatience as Janey served the customer who’d beaten her in there by thirty seconds.

  The customer was Serena Charlton, looking very chic in a midnight-blue off-the-shoulder T-shirt, slender white skirt, and navy-and-gold shoes. “It’s my mother’s birthday tomorrow,” she explained, flipping a credit card onto the counter. “It’s so hard to know what to get them, isn’t it? And I’ve left it rather late. As a matter of fact, it was Maxine who suggested I come to you.”

  At the mention of Maxine’s name, Elsie’s chins began to wobble. Janey, steadfastly ignoring her and thinking that putting a bit of business her way was the least Maxine could do to make up for last night, took out her order pad and uncapped a pen.

  “Something around the fifty-pound mark,” Serena continued vaguely, gazing around the shop in search of inspiration. “Oh, I don’t know. Flowers aren’t really my thing. Any kind, as long as they’re white.”

  Fifty pounds, white, wrote Janey. Lifting her head she said, “And the message?”

  Serena cast around for further inspiration. Finally, it came. “Happy birthday. Love, Serena.”

  My word, thought Janey. You ought to write a book.

  When Serena had finished reciting her mother’s address, she added, “Oh yes, I nearly forgot. Maxine wanted me to ask you how you’re feeling this morning. She mentioned something about a late night.”

  Elsie’s chins exploded into life once more. This time she couldn’t control herself. “Funny you should mention Maxine,” she said, dying to know exactly what had happened and equally curious to discover the identity of the glamorous, dark-haired girl. “I could hardly believe it when that incredible racket started up at two o’clock this morning. All that hammering on your front door and thumping around…nearly fell out of bed with the shock of it, I did!”

  “Really?” Serena looked faintly amused. “And what was it?”

  Janey, saying nothing, gazed at Elsie.

  “Well, I peeped out of my windo
w.” Elsie’s chest now swelled with self-importance as she turned to address Serena. “It was dark, mind you, and I didn’t have my glasses on, but I could see enough. It was young Maxine herself, with a whole bunch of plainclothes policemen, and they said it was an emergency. Looked to me like she’d been arrested.”

  Janey, who didn’t see why she should have to explain anything, simply gave Elsie an unhelpful smile.

  “So that’s why I felt I should pop around and find out if you were both all right,” said Elsie, disappointed by the lack of response. “It’s only natural, after all, to worry when something like that happens. I just hope Maxine isn’t in any serious trouble,” she concluded with relish.

  “There’s no need for you to worry about anything,” Janey assured her, running Serena’s credit card through the machine and giving her the slip to sign. “It’s all been sorted out now, and Maxine is fine. It was nice of you, though, to be so concerned.”

  Serena watched Elsie leave the shop. “Well,” she said, calmly sliding the credit card back inside an expensive purse, “you can say one thing about Maxine.”

  Janey could think of several, but they weren’t wonderfully polite. Instead she said, “What’s that?”

  Serena smiled. “She certainly lives life to the full.”

  • • •

  When the cricketers had departed to play cricket somewhere in the north of England, Maxine had been briefly despondent. Only briefly, though. The very next day, while walking along the beach with Josh and Ella, she had encountered Tom.

  “Bleeeuchhh!” yelled Tom, coming awake with a jolt. Josh, who had been running, had stumbled against an abandoned shoe and inadvertently sent up a fountain of sand. Tom, spitting it out of his mouth, glared at Josh.

  “Gosh, sorry,” said Josh. “I didn’t mean to do it.”

  “It was my fault.” Maxine, removing her sunglasses, grinned down at the body on the sand. It was quite the nicest body she’d seen in…ooh, twenty-four hours. “If I hadn’t been chasing him, he wouldn’t have tripped.”

  She was wearing a pastel-pink bikini and her long, blond hair was tied back with a pink scarf. Tom’s mood improved almost at once.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Ruefully wiping his cheek, he said, “It’s a long time since anyone kicked sand in my face.”

  “I should think it was.” Maxine admired his biceps. “Do you weight train?”

  “Three times a week.” Tom was intensely proud of his physique. “Have to,” he added, because he was also an incurable show-off. “When you’re out in the lifeboat, it might mean the difference between life and death.”

  “The lifeboat?” gasped Maxine, playing it to the hilt and deciding that Josh had earned himself an ice cream at the very least. The dazzling smile came into play. “Goodness, you must be incredibly brave…”

  • • •

  But going out to dinner with a man who carried a beeper had its drawbacks. Maxine, who had worked long and hard on Guy in order to wangle another night off, and who had promised to babysit for the next three evenings to make up for it, was dismayed when she realized what was happening: one minute they were in Bruno’s restaurant, about to dive into great bowls of mussels swimming in garlic butter sauce, and the next minute Tom was responding to his beeper as if he’d been stuck with an electric cattle prod.

  “You’re leaving now?” Maxine stared at him as he leaped up from the table. He could at least stay to finish his first course, surely.

  Everyone in the restaurant had by this time turned to stare at the source of the beeping. Tom loved it when that happened. He felt just like Superman.

  “Vessel in distress,” he said, just loudly enough for them all to hear. Snatching up his car keys, he added, “Every second counts. Sorry, love. I’ll be in touch.”

  That’s what you think, Maxine thought moodily. While she appreciated the urgency of the situation, she still wasn’t happy about it. She’d never been stood up in the middle of dinner before. Even more disturbing, it looked as if she was going to be stuck with the bill.

  “Bugger,” she said aloud, pouring herself another glass of wine and now wishing she hadn’t chosen such an expensive bottle.

  “Oh dear.” Bruno materialized at the table as the door swung shut behind Tom. “Lovers’ tiff?”

  Maxine, poking at the mussels with her fork, gave him a wry smile. “Saving lives, apparently, means more to him than my scintillating company and your stupendous food.”

  “Some people have no sense of priority.”

  “If he only knew what a struggle I had, getting the night off,” she went on with a trace of irritation. “I wouldn’t have bothered if I’d thought this might happen. What a waste!”

  “Some people are so selfish,” Bruno mocked. Interestingly, he observed, she was no longer bothering to flirt with him as she had done on her previous visit. Since discovering him in Janey’s flat, presumably, she had decided he was off-limits.

  “You’d better go and tell the chef to stop cooking the steaks,” said Maxine. “I can’t afford to pay for them as well.” Gloomily she added, “I don’t even have enough cash on me for a taxi home.”

  But Bruno was hungry, and the scotch fillets this week were superb. “Please,” he said, in the same wry tone. “You’ll have me in tears next. I’ll eat with you, if you like. If you’re good,” he added with a brief smile, “I’ll even give you a lift home.”

  If the mussels had been great, the steaks au poivre were even better. Maxine, demolishing hers with enthusiasm, soon cheered up. “Tell me all about it, then,” she demanded, when the party at the table closest to theirs had left. “How long have you been sleeping with Janey? And why on earth was she so desperate to keep this ravishing little item of gossip from me?”

  “I think you’ve just answered that one yourself.” Bruno raised an eyebrow as he picked up his glass. “Janey’s hardly the type to enjoy being an item of gossip.”

  “Oh, you know what I mean,” said Maxine crossly. “But she could at least have told me. I’m her sister! It isn’t as if I’d go rushing out, broadcasting the news to all and sundry. I can be discreet, you know. When I have to be.”

  Having heard all the lurid tales of Maxine’s past conquests, Bruno didn’t doubt it. But he was more interested right now in discovering whether she really knew why Janey had been so determined to keep their relationship a secret. “In that case,” he said mildly, “there must have been other reasons.”

  Maxine, however, just looked puzzled. “What other reasons?” she demanded. “Your girlfriend? Her absent husband? She could still have told me.”

  “Don’t be dense,” sighed Bruno. “You’re the reason she didn’t want to tell you.”

  “What?”

  “You make her insecure. She thinks you’re more attractive than she is,” he said bluntly. “On her own, she’s fine. When she’s with you, she loses all faith in herself.”

  Maxine looked appalled. “You mean she doesn’t trust me?”

  She genuinely hadn’t known. Bruno smiled slightly. “I don’t know, maybe I’m the one she doesn’t trust. I don’t have the greatest reputation in the world…”

  “And that’s why she didn’t want us to meet in the first place,” said Maxine, her tone thoughtful. “She thought you might prefer me.”

  “Of course she did.” With a trace of exasperation, Bruno said, “I can’t believe it’s never occurred to you. How can you not notice something like that?”

  “Easy.” She drained her glass and inspected the bottle. “I’m selfish and thoughtless, aren’t I?”

  “So what are you going to do now?”

  “That’s easy too.” She smiled. “See if I can’t persuade you to open another bottle of wine.”

  • • •

  As he drove her back to Trezale House, Maxine said, “You still haven’t told me how long it’s be
en going on.”

  “You mean how long I’ve been sleeping with your sister?” There was a note of irony in his voice. “Why don’t you ask Janey?”

  Maxine shrugged. “She isn’t speaking to me at the moment.”

  “And I’m not telling you,” said Bruno. With a sideways glance in her direction, he added, “There, doesn’t that prove how discreet I can be?”

  “It certainly proves how bloody infuriating you can be.” Peering into the darkness ahead, she said, “Next turn on the left, just past that big tree. I know you didn’t believe me earlier, but I can keep the odd secret… No, I said next left.”

  Bruno, who knew the country lanes well, ignored her. A couple of hundred yards farther along the road, he turned the car into a gateway.

  “This isn’t the next left,” said Maxine as he switched off the ignition.

  “We haven’t finished talking yet. There’s something I’m curious about.”

  “What’s that?”

  The sky was inky black and sprinkled with stars, but the moon was almost full. The darkness wasn’t total; she could see Bruno’s white shirt and green eyes. She could also see that he was smiling.

  “I’ve told you what Janey was afraid of,” he said in conversational tones. “But you haven’t asked me whether she was right.”

  “Oh.” Maxine thought for a moment, aware of what he might be leading up to. “OK then. Was she?”

  “Janey’s an attractive girl.” Bruno shrugged. “Who needs her self-confidence built up.”

  “And?”

  “I think you already know how attractive you are.”

  Maxine half smiled. “But when you first saw me, did you like me more than you like Janey?”

  “I like you both very much,” he said slowly. “But you and I are more alike. We understand each other. And as I said before, I’m very discreet.”

  Maxine didn’t bother to look surprised. Bruno Parry-Brent was every bit as unscrupulous as she had suspected. They might be alike in many ways, she thought, but even she wasn’t that two-faced. “I see,” she murmured, pushing back her hair with her fingers. “You mean, what Janey doesn’t know about won’t hurt her?”