She heard the sound of voices coming from downstairs.
‘Who else is here?’ she asked.
Andwele seemed to cheer up. ‘Many my friends from the village,’ he said.
As far as she could make out from him, there were possibly thirty men staying there. All had travelled illegally from Libya via Italy and then by boat across the channel landing at dead of night in Hastings. It had been a harrowing and dangerous journey. Many had drowned in the Mediterranean.
‘Me and Balcha, many times we are hanging on one plank of wood in the sea before we are picked up and put in the detention centre. Then those damn Italians giving us pizza, pizza, pizza. It blockiing you up like nobody business. Maybe we thinking they do this because there is only one toilet.’
‘That’s terrible,’ Laura said. ‘But you are safe now.’
Andwele gave her another mournful look. ‘Not without the marriage certificate.’ He clarified the situation. ‘I am veery sorry Lady, but Liam say I must kill you and he is coming tonight to check.’ Tears began flowing from his eyes. ‘There is no two ways about it, as far as I can see.’
Laura eased herself down from the window and crawled back to the mattress. She took Andwele’s hand. ‘As a matter of fact there is,’ she said. ‘You see I happen to be single.’
‘Boxford. Hmm.’ Andwele toyed with the word.
‘That’s my surname; my first name is Laura.’ Laura was beginning to feel better. Her headache had subsided. It was now like the sound of raindrops pattering monotonously on a plastic gutter and it acted as a distraction from her reservations about arranged marriages but either way, needs must.
‘Boxford.’ Andwele rolled the word out slowly. ‘This is too much good.’
‘Mr. Andwele Boxford Akadigbo.’ Andwele grinned.
‘It doesn’t work like that. We’d be Mr and Mrs Akadigbo.’ Laura felt she was done with real marriage; the Brigadier would surely have been her last foray into matrimony, although the thought of Mr. Parrott calling her “Lady Akadigbo” did give her pause for thought. She was not sure how the manager would take to the idea of Andwele at Wellworth Lawns but it was something that would have to be sorted out at a later date.
‘But we maybe having a problem here, Laura.’ Andwele had his troubled look again. ‘If I am married to you, I am becoming the bigamist.’
‘I’m sure that is something that can easily be resolved. Canon Frank Holliday will just have to cancel the registration of your marriage to the Welsh girl.’ Laura remembered Canon Frank’s startled expression as she had entered the chapel that night. The fact that he was embroiled in all this illegal activity was something else she would have to stop and think about later, but at the moment she needed him in his official capacity and he was in no position to refuse her.
‘We should leave immediately,’ she said ‘He can cancel your first marriage and marry us at the same time. Have you got any money? We’ll have to call a taxi and then there’s the train fare. I normally use my pensioner’s railcard, but I’ve left it in my handbag.’
‘Hell Boxford.’ Andwele put his hand in his pocket and drew out a wad of cash. ‘Many times I got plenty money.’
‘Well, that’s good. So now all we need to do is get back to my home and find the Canon.’
Andwele thought about this. ‘So I am coming live with you? Then I get a job; pay the taxes like the proper British citizen. This is making me veery happy.’
‘Good. Now go and tell the others and we’ll be on our way.’
Andwele returned some minutes later with Balcha. Balcha said it was bad juju not to celebrate Andwele’s change of fortune and wish him well on his departure from them.
It occurred to Laura that time was of the essence. Liam had only given Andwele until that evening to get rid of her and it was already late in the afternoon.
‘I think we’ve just about time for a quick one before we hit the road,’ she said.
As they went downstairs Balcha called out to the others. They went to the kitchen and Balcha opened the fridge and took out some beers.
‘We have my village-style wedding celebration,’ Andwele said, winking at Laura and rubbing his hands together. ‘You and me as King and Queen.’
‘One hundred per cent.’ Balcha gave the thumbs up.
‘I don’t want you to get the wrong end of the stick here Andwele,’ Laura said, as they went into a living room strewn with mattresses. ‘This will be purely a marriage of convenience. No conjugal rites involved. Do you understand me?’
‘Many times, and you no bringing the cattle to the feast, but no point missing out on a good time eh?’
Despite still being in her nightdress, Laura got into the party spirit. There was some sort of ceremonial display that Laura didn’t understand but the beer hit the spot and what with the general conviviality of the occasion, it was seven-thirty by the time Laura looked at the cheap plastic clock above the door. Horrified, she took another slug of beer – it really wasn’t bad – and shook Andwele who had passed out on a mattress.
‘Wake up,’ she shouted above the din of the music.
Then she heard a loud hammering on the door.
Liam?
She jumped up and tried to push through the crowd of men into the kitchen. There must be a back door somewhere.
She heard the sound of splintering wood. The drunken men would not let her pass. She was trapped.
She heard a voice.
Her heart missed a beat. He’s going to kill me.
Chapter thirty-one
‘Granny, thank goodness we’ve found you.’ Victoria said.
Laura felt her knees give way as she sank to the floor.
Vince barged through and grabbed her under the arm. ‘Come on Laura, We’ve got your handbag in the car.’
‘My handbag?’ What a long day it had been. It really was her bedtime.
‘Let’s get out of here.’ Victoria took Laura’s other arm and together they jostled their way to the open front door.
The fresh air hit Laura like a smack from Nanny.
‘Hey,’ she could hear Andwele call out as he tried to push through the revellers. ‘Where are you taking my wife?’
Vince bustled Laura off the pavement and into the back seat of his car. Victoria got in beside her and Vince sped away.
‘Thank goodness you’re alright,’ Victoria said. ‘But what did that man mean when he said “my wife”?’
‘I can’t imagine. He must have been drunk. They were celebrating something,’ Laura said.
‘Your captivity I suppose. How terrifying for you Granny but they haven’t forced you into marriage too?’
‘Heavens no.’ she gulped.
Laura awoke to a gentle tapping on the door. She sat up smartly. It took her a few moments to remember she was in Vince and Victoria’s comfortable flat in Chelsea.
‘Cup of tea Granny?’ Victoria asked. ‘I hope you slept well?’
‘Oh, the joy of proper linen.’ She let her head fall back on the soft down pillows.
Victoria put the cup on the bedside table. ‘You’ll have to borrow my sunglasses to cover your black eye,’ she said. ‘Vince is cooking devilled kidneys; it’s his latest thing. The smell is truly frightful at this time of the morning.’
Laura felt her eye tentatively. It was sore. There were a million questions she wanted to ask but this news was too important. ‘Devilled kidneys. How delicious.’
‘I’m sure he’ll do you some, but have your tea first and then a nice bath. I’ve ordered you some clothes from Harrods. Vince’s chauffeur, Charlie is collecting them. Actually, I think I just heard the doorbell. It’ll be him, hang on.’
Victoria returned with two large carrier bags. She pulled out the tissue paper wrapped contents and held up a dark blue dress with matching jacket. Around the neck of the dress was sewn a row of spangled beads.
‘I can’t wear that,’ Laura said. ‘It’s far too smart. People will think I’m going to Ascot.’
�
�We are.’ Victoria unwrapped another parcel and held up a matching set of underwear. Normally Laura wore samples that Vince sent her from the lingerie company “Foundation Rocks”, that he’d made his fortune from but the ones Victoria now held up were in a class of their own. She felt a flush coming to her cheeks.
‘Oh good,’ Victoria said. ‘I can see you like them. There’s nothing better for support than a Rigby and Peller bra and you’ve been so brave going without, Granny.’ She delved into the bag again and fished out a pair of Wolford tights. ‘Did I tell you Vince is into racehorses now? He’s got a runner in the King George. Typical Vince, after he’d dealt with that man Liam and we’d found out where you were and dropped Canon Frank at the tube station, Vince made us stop at his bookmaker in Shepherd’s Market. He said it was on the way to Brixton. I was furious.’
‘Canon Frank? A runner in the King George and Queen Elizabeth Stakes? And Liam; how does Vince know Liam?’
Victoria took a pair of shoes out of a box and handed them to Laura. ‘We found Canon Frank wandering around in the garden when we got to Mount Cod. He’d been out cold in the chapel all night. He said Liam knocked him out too.’ She got up and headed for the door. ‘I’ll tell you about it at breakfast. Have your bath and then come along to the kitchen. I must wash my hair.’
Laura lay in bed sipping her tea. This mass of information was really too much for her. And now Ascot… and that must mean it was Saturday… and that meant Liam would have found her gone and poor Andwele; what about him? Laura leapt out of bed and went to run her bath. There was much to do and so many unanswered questions but one of the main ones was, where was Parker?
‘Don’t worry Granny, we left him with Repton,’ Victoria said. ‘He’s fine. I called Repton earlier – I think I may have woken him up.’ She took a small spoonful of manuka honey and added it to her hot lemon water. ‘He’s probably exhausted, what with two dogs and Gladys Freemantle staying. Gladys said she could cook but she didn’t look too practical to me in all that tight clothing.’
Laura sprinkled smoked paprika over the plate of kidneys in front of her. ‘Repton should never have let Cheryl and Lance get so out of control.’
‘Bit late for that.’ Vince turned on the tap of the sink where he was standing in his apron.
‘You know them too?’ Laura asked.
‘Ee aye Luv, you’ve got a bit of catching up to do.’ Vince rolled up his sleeves and began washing up the frying pan. ‘They’d been conning old Repton in more ways than one.’
‘You don’t have to do that darling,’ Victoria said. ‘Myah will be here later.’
‘I’m not a great believer in Myah’s washing up skills. Hoovering, now you can’t fault her on that.’ Vince picked up a tea towel and began to dry the pan.
‘Perhaps Myah has a Filipino cousin that we could send down to Mount Cod to shake those two up a bit?’ Laura said.
‘Cheryl and Lance have gone, Granny.’
‘Gone where?’
Victoria put a hand on Laura’s shoulder. ‘They’ve disappeared. The police are trying to track them down. You see Liam is Cheryl and Lance’s son. They were married.’
‘Liam? The man who wanted me bumped off was Cheryl and Lance’s son?’
‘What do you mean “bumped off”?’ Victoria stared wideeyed at her grandmother.
Laura took a bite of kidneys. ‘He was going to have me killed.’
Victoria gasped. ‘We had no idea you were in that much danger.’
‘Heck I’d never have stopped off at the bookie’s if I’d known.’ Vince opened a cupboard to put the pan away.
‘More toast Granny?’ Victoria asked.
‘No thank you dear, but where is he?’
Vince returned to the sink. ‘Best you don’t worry yourself about the finer details of what happened to young Liam, he’ll be safe in custody by now.’ Vince began wiping the draining board.
If Liam hadn’t made it over to Brixton, then Andwele was safe. Relieved, Laura loaded up her fork.
‘Suffice to say,’ Vince continued. ‘With the help of Frank Holliday – dark horse him – he’d learned a trick or two in Northern Ireland from when he was chaplain in the Maze – we got what we wanted from the boy.’
Laura looked up; half a kidney perched on the end of her fork. ‘What?’
‘Not half handy his knowledge of waterboarding turned out to be.’
‘Oh Vince,’ Victoria said. ‘You didn’t waterboard Liam did you?’
‘Honestly my love, what kind of a person d’yer think I am?’ Vince flapped the dishcloth.
‘But how did you know where to find Liam in the first place?’ Laura asked.
‘Canon Frank confessed to the illegal weddings when he realised you’d been abducted,’ Victoria said. ‘He was being blackmailed by Cheryl who knew about some affair he’d had.’
‘Sang like a canary he did. Fear of defrocking I suppose, anyway he knew exactly where Liam would be, so we got him in the helicopter and got Charlie to meet us at Battersea.’
Laura took a deep breath. Canon Frank had confessed to the illegal weddings but did he know Liam was intending to have her killed? In the back of her mind she felt that there was something she had forgotten about that night. She was about to ask why he hadn’t been arrested too, but Vince was now on a mission.
‘Come on you two ladies,’ he said. ‘Get yer arses in gear on or we’ll miss the first race.’
Vince was chatting with Charlie the chauffeur, about the fitness of his horse, in the front of the Range Rover, while Laura and Victoria sat in the back.
‘Oh yes, Golden Pom-Poms is a beauty; just you wait ’til the filly comes romping home.’ Vince rubbed his hands together as they crossed the Chiswick flyover.
‘What a name to call a horse,’ Laura said to Victoria.
‘She’s called Golden Pom-Poms after Vince’s new range. Hasn’t he sent you a set?’
‘I don’t think so.’ She was momentarily distracted by the name of the horse, as she recalled Tam’s sister. ‘But let’s get back to the story. How did you find out I was missing in the first place? Do please start at the beginning.’
As the car sped past Heathrow, Victoria opened up the armrest between them and chose a pale blue nail varnish from the selection. ‘Jervis called us. Repton rang him after he went to check on you when you didn’t come down. He found Parker and your handbag and that’s when he knew there was something really wrong.’
Laura gripped the trusty black crocodile bag to her chest.
‘By the time we got to Mount Cod, Jervis, Strudel and Gladys were there.’ Victoria blew on one fingernail. ‘They’d gone to collect Canon Frank for the exorcism you’d laid on – and that’s another story isn’t it?’ Victoria gave her grandmother a knowing look. ‘Anyway when they found he wasn’t at home they carried on to Mount Cod.’
The carphone rang.
‘I’ll finish telling you later,’ Victoria said.
‘Vince? I can get you eleven to four on…’ came a voice.
‘Slap on fifty big ones,’ Vince said, as they drew into the member’s car park.
Victoria slipped on her shoes and went round to the back of the car. Laura joined her as she lifted the lids from two hatboxes.
‘Which would you prefer?’ she asked.
Laura looked at the two creations, she was still thinking about the Canon’s story. He must have known her life was in danger. ‘I can’t possibly wear either of them,’ she said.
‘Rubbish.’ Vince elbowed her out of the way. He picked up a pink feathery tricorn, eyed Laura up and down and handed it to his wife. ‘This’ll go better with your shades,’ he said, putting a white cake-like hat on Laura’s head.
‘But I can’t wear dark glasses all afternoon,’ Laura said.
‘Easier than explaining,’ Vince said, as they walked through the car park milling with people. ‘Anyway you’ll just look rich and a bit mad like all these other people.’
There were various friend
s and business acquaintances already waiting in Vince’s box and soon the champagne was flowing. Then lunch was served.
Laura found herself sitting beside a Frenchman who said he was the silkworm farmer who supplied Foundation Rocks. As she ate her lamb cutlets, he entertained her with stories of how Vince had tried to engineer the output of the worms so that they produced even softer silk. ‘For one whole season he had me feeding them Jacaranda leaves that he had sent from Cuba.’
‘Did it make any difference?’ Laura asked.
‘No. The worms are refusing to eat them.’
The pudding arrived and Laura turned to Vince’s old friend and accountant, Bernard, who was sitting on her right. He had just received the bill from Vince’s racehorse trainer and was not best pleased, but as Laura knew him well, she quickly steered him onto safer ground. He had taken up tennis.
‘That’s good,’ Laura said, lifting the damask tablecloth and revealing Bernard’s shoes – he had only ever worn trainers, even with a suit. It was one of his little idiosyncrasies that Vince had learned was best ignored.
Laura and Bernard discussed the predictable nature of the Wimbledon finalists and it was not until the waiter standing behind her asked her if she would like more pudding, that she was diverted. I know that voice, she thought, and looked round.
Dressed in a dark suit, holding a bowl of Îles flottantes surrounded by berries, was Ned Stocking.
‘Ned,’ she called to him.
‘I beg your pardon?’
Laura lifted her dark glasses.
‘Christ, Lady Boxford, that’s a corker.’
‘Long story but what funny places you crop up in.’
‘All in a day’s work for the jobbing actor. Nice to see you.’ Ned continued round the table and then went out to the kitchen closing the door behind him.
She managed to catch up with him as he was clearing away the coffee. Most of the guests were waiting outside on the balcony for the first race.
The Haunting of Mount Cod Page 21
