In Bed with the Enemy

by Janet Woods

  When he didn’t take the hint and budge from her desk she glanced sharply up at him. ‘Goodbye, Leon.’

  ‘Why don’t you come with us?’

  It would be wonderful up on the bluff today, she thought. There was a large flat rock warmed by the sun where you could sit and dream, and a view down over the trees towards the sea. The wind was charged with ozone and pine resin. You could almost launch yourself from the rock and glide on the air currents like a seagull when the wind was gentle. When it was fierce the foliage hissed and snapped, and the hair was lashed in a stinging, whip-like frenzy about the face.

  Ruefully, she shook her head. ‘I can’t. I have work to do, and clients to see.’ She ignored his grin, her eyes becoming dreamy. ‘This is my first wedding and I want to do it right.‘

  ‘Second. You arranged ours, remember?’

  ‘My first real wedding. I mean, not a hasty business arrangement.’

  He raised an eyebrow at that. ‘Your computer screen tells me it’s very much a business arrangement.’

  ‘Yes ... well.’ Her smile was sugar laced with arsenic. ‘I really do intend to earn my keep, Leon.’

  Uncoiling from the desk, he murmured lazily. ‘That, you’ve demonstrated most admirably so far. His fingers brushed against the notice pinned to the door as he walked out. ‘Don’t work too hard, Darcie. You’ve already got everything you need.’

  ‘You’ve got everything you need, you mean,’ she murmured, glaring after him. As he moved out of sight she bent to retrieve the rose and held it to her nose to inhale its perfume, her expression regretful as she stared at the empty doorway. ‘Except for a couple of things, Leon ... you no longer have a pad to build your house on ... and you no longer have me in your bed.’

  There was satisfaction in successfully arranging her first wedding contract that day. Forgetting her annoyance she hurried off to find Leon and report her success.

  She experienced a strong sense of anti-climax to discover the chalet was empty. He obviously hadn’t returned from the bluff.

  As she uneasily eyed the mist clinging to the dark heights of the hills, the telephone rang.

  ‘There’s a call from Bernard Chambers for Mister Price.’

  She wondered what Leon’s lawyer wanted. ‘I’ll take it, Shirley. Put him through, please’

  ‘Ah, Darcie. Is Leon there? I can’t seem to raise him on the mobile.’

  ‘He’s gone bush walking. Perhaps he’s out of range.’

  ‘No. The telephone just rings out. He’s probably left it in his office or something. It’s not really urgent. I just thought you’d both like to know that there was a mistake made with the land purchase - but the mistake was made by your father in the first place.’

  It seemed she’d been too hasty in her judgment of Leon. A shiver ran through her and she made a little humming noise in her throat as she remembered the damaged house pad. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Application was made by your father to sub-divide the land some time ago into two titles. He signed a declaration at the time, saying the original deeds had been lost before the new titles were issued. Unfortunately, someone made a mistake, and the declaration was never recorded in the appropriate manner. When your father sold the property to Leon, he handed over the original set of deeds.’

  ‘So Leon thought he was buying the whole of the property?’

  ‘Leon did buy the whole of the property, my dear. It’s a matter of intent.’

  ‘But my father’s intent was different to that of Leon,’ she argued. ‘If the land was on two titles - how could Leon have bought them both?’ A thought struck her. ‘Was the original deed canceled out by the two new titles?’

  ‘To all intents and purposes.’

  ‘Does the mean yes or no?’

  ‘What it means is that I’m not on the witness stand, and you’re not cross-examining me, Mrs Price. But yes, the original title would have been rendered obsolete, and would have been retained by the titles office.’

  She ignored his rebuke. ‘So if Leon has the original deeds - and the original deed was canceled, then Leon doesn’t legally own the land. Both titles must still be part of my father’s estate - and therefore the property would belong to his legal heir ... wouldn’t it?’

  ‘I assure you, Mrs Price. This whole thing is a mistake, as the land titles office will attest.’

  She took a deep breath. ‘But whose mistake? There were more people involved in this transaction than my father - you for instance. Unfortunately, my father’s not here to defend his reputation?’

  There was a sudden silence at the other end of the line, then Bernard Chambers said carefully. ‘I’d advise you to seek independent advice on this matter, Mrs Price. There could be a conflict of interests.’

  ‘You mean, Leon may not been titled to the land?’

  The man’s voice became silky. ‘That’s not what I meant at all - and I wouldn’t advise you not to quote me. Should the matter go to court, some might consider that your father may have deliberately used the original deeds in an effort to inflate the value of the property he intended to sell?’

  ‘How dare you even suggest such a thing!’ she exploded. ‘My father was a totally honest man. He was a bit absent-minded at times, I grant you, but he’d never have considered doing anything so underhand.’

  ‘A court of law might see things differently,’ Bernard drawled. ‘Look, ask Leon to call me when he gets in, would you? I’m sure things can be sorted out quite easily if we put our collective minds to it.’

  As soon as Bernard Chambers hung up she dialed the number of Leo’s mobile. It rang out. After checking all the offices and the dining room she went back to the chalet and dialed again.

  Leaving the phone to do its work she went outside and listened, staring up at the hills. Nothing. Wherever the telephone was it wasn’t within the vicinity of her hearing range. Mist writhed through the trees, and she shivered. Leon hadn’t lived here long enough to be familiar with the terrain ... and if he wasn’t back within the next two hours it would be dark.

  She was about to turn and go inside when she heard Georgie bark, then he bounded out from the undergrowth and raced towards her. There was something tied to his collar. A strip of material torn from the shirt Leon had been wearing that morning. She blanched when she saw the spot of blood on it.

  Heart in her mouth she contacted reception. ‘Shirley, I think my husband might be in trouble. Quietly she explained the situation, and asked her to phone Jeff Watson before stating her intention to set out for the bluff.

  ‘Is that wise? Why don’t you wait for Jeff?’

  ‘It will take him a while to organize a search party and they won’t start out until first light. I know the country like the back of my hand and can get there before the light fades if I hurry. Leon is most certainly injured, and he hasn’t got any warm clothing with him.’

  ‘Mrs Price ... are you sure–’

  ‘Don’t waste my time by arguing,’ she snapped. ‘Ask the chef to send Peter over with a flask of hot soup and some fruit. I’ll take Georgie, and will keep in touch on the mobile phone. You know the number. Tell Jeff to ring me every fifteen minutes for a progress report. After that, I’ll expect you to hold the fort - until morning if necessary.’

  ‘Will do.’

  Within a few minutes Darcie had fed and watered Georgie, and changed into a warm track suit and a pair of stout walking boots.

  ‘Don’t think you’re taking up position on the lounge now you’ve eaten,’ she told Georgie, tying a rolled blanket either side of his body like a pair of saddle bags. She filled a back pack with a small first aid kit, some chocolate and the flask and fruit that had come from the kitchen.

  She added a plastic bottle full of water wrapped in Leon’s waterproof coat to George’s load, then checking the batteries in the flashlight, stuck the mobile phone in her top pocket and started out.

  The first phone call was from Jeff Watson, who understood the position she’d been in and didn’t
bother trying to dissuade her from her course of action.

  ‘Stick to the main trail, Darcie, and if you don’t find him before it gets dark I’ll arrange a search party for first light. I want you to camp on the trail so I’ll know where to find you. Where are you now?’

  ‘Just coming up to the log over the stream.’

  ‘Okay. I don’t have to tell you to be careful. I’ll ring you in fifteen minutes.’

  The next fifteen minutes seemed interminable, and lonely, but she made good progress, keeping her pace steady despite her inclination to hurry. She’d need all her energy for the steep climb near the end of the trail.

  ‘Bog’s end,’ she told Jeff, pleased to hear his voice right on time. Her muscles had warmed to the climb now.

  ‘You’re making good progress,’ he grunted.

  Then fifteen minutes later when she’d just trudged past the thirteen boulders that sat like a clutch of giant eggs on a ledge. ‘Baker’s dozen. Visibility’s not too good, Jeff.’

  ‘It’ll get worse when you get into the mist. Make sure you don’t wander off the trail. Good luck, Darcie.’

  ‘Thanks, I’m beginning to need it.’ The incline was much steeper now, she was tiring and time seemed to slow down. Each phone call from Jeff seemed further and further apart, although logic told her they weren’t.

  Her legs ached, and her chest was sore with the effort of breathing. She ate a bar of chocolate and an apple to replenish her energy levels whilst she rested, then taking out the phone dialed Leon’s number, her ears straining to hear the sound of it ringing in the mist. Nothing.

  The trees began to thin out a bit as she toiled up the ever-increasing slope, but the mist had crept relentlessly down to surround her. It was cold and clammy. Above her, the canopy of trees showed glimpses of a purple shaded sky that the mist drifted across like thick smoke. If she didn’t find Leon in the next fifteen minutes it would be dark.

  ‘Leon!’ she yelled, but her voice didn’t carry. Georgie shoved his nose into her hand and whined.

  She fondled the dog’s ear, thankful for his company. ‘You know where he is, don’t you Georgie?’ She took the strip of material from her pocket and held it under his nose. ‘Fetch.’

  Georgie gave her a puzzled glance.

  She sighed. ‘Okay, you useless lump, so you’re not a bloodhound.’

  His tail wagged in amiable agreement.

  Ten minutes later she rang Leon’s number again. Georgie strained at the leash and he gave a baying bark.

  ‘Leon?’ she called out, terminating the call. ‘Answer me.’

  Silence.

  Darkness was something that pressed into the mist surrounding her. There was something eerie about it, as if her body was in a ball of dim gray light. She jumped when the phone buzzed in her hand.

  ‘I’m just below the bluff. Jeff, and the dog is alerted about something.’

  ‘What’s the visibility like?’

  ‘Not very good. I’ll be lucky if I’ve got five minutes of light left, then I’ll have to use the flashlight.’

  There was a worried edge to Jeff’s voice now. ‘Be careful of the drop over Lover’s Leap. I’ll ring you in ten, and you’d better answer.’

  ‘Will do. You know the slab of rock just below the bluff. I’ll take shelter there for the night if I can’t find Leon.’ She had every intention of finding him, however long it took her. She wasn’t about to allow him to suffer from exposure. She terminated the call before Jeff could warn her to be careful again.

  Five minutes later it felt as though she was wading through thick soup. She punched in Leon’s number again and was rewarded by a faint buzzing coming from below her to the left.

  ‘Oh, God,’ she groaned, her heart beginning to thump against her ribs in what seemed to be an agonizing slow motion. ‘He’s fallen over Lover’s Leap!’

  It took all of her restraint not to run towards where she knew the drop was. Georgie was pulling her the other way, towards the clump of scrub that bordered the rocky clearing at the base of the huge bare rock that was the bluff itself.

  ‘I’ll never call you a useless lump, again,’ she promised when the yellow beam of her flashlight picked out a prostrate form.

  Heart in her mouth she hurried towards it, fell to her knees and gently kissed his pale face.

  Chapter Twelve

  Her cursory examination showed a wound sticky with congealed blood at the side of his head. His pulse was strong, his breathing steady, though now and again he muttered something under his breath.

  She gently shook him. ‘Leon, speak to me.’

  ‘Sarah,’ he mumbled, then gave a long drawn out groan. ‘My head ... it hurts Sarah.’

  And where’s Sarah when you need her? Nowhere, that’s where? You’ll just have to put up with second best.

  Jeff’s call came almost at the same time.

  ‘I’ve found him,’ she yelled into the phone. ‘We’re on the edge of the clearing below the bluff. He has a head injury and is unconscious - though he’s muttering a bit. Can you get a helicopter up for him.’

  ‘Impossible, Darcie, the mist is too thick, and it’s getting thicker. You’re going to have to hang in there until morning.’

  Jeff was replaced by another voice, that of the local doctor, the one who’d stitched the cut on her rear when she’d been small.

  He asked questions about Leon’s condition, and she was kept busy counting his pulse, examining his limbs and the condition of his pupils by the light of her torch. Finally, the doctor seemed satisfied.

  ‘It sounds like a severe concussion, but I can’t be sure without an x-ray. Don’t attempt to move your husband. I want you to keep him warm - and talk to him as much as possible, okay? The object of the exercise is to prevent him from slipping into a deeper state of unconsciousness.’

  She felt lonely after the voices had gone ... and weary. She gently placed a dressing over the wound on his head, talking to him all the time and wrapped the blanket around him. She put the waterproof jacket over the top.

  The night seemed interminable as she talked to Leon, and sometimes he talked back - sounding perfectly normal, having conversations with people she didn’t know, and some she wished he didn’t know - like Sarah.

  It grew so cold towards dawn that she pulled the second blanket over them both and snuggled against his body to keep him warm, with Georgie lying along his back.

  ‘I love you,’ she whispered in his ear as her eyes began to droop. ‘Sarah didn’t climb a mountain in the dark to rescue you ... Wee Georgie and I did.’

  ‘I love you, Sarah.’ His voice was a restless murmur. ‘I should have told you a long time ago.’

  ‘I’m not Sarah,’ she said despondently as she wondered who the hell this woman was. ‘I’m Darcie ... your wife.’

  He gave a long drawn out sigh. ‘If I die, tell Sarah I love her.’

  Darcie felt utterly miserable. ‘You’re not going to die, I won’t let you,’ she muttered. ‘And if you think I’m going to hand you over to Sarah gift-wrapped, and with a red ribbon tied around your middle you can think again. You’re a two-timing rat, Leon, and I don’t know why I love you. Once you get better, you and I are going to sort this out.’

  His chuckle drifted into a sigh. ‘That’s my girl.’

  Just make sure you remember it, she thought, as she unintentionally drifted under the surface of her consciousness.

  She dreamed there was a great wind tearing at her clothes. Her hair whipped into her eyes and dust filled the sky. In the distance she could hear Wee Georgie barking ferociously at something. She pursed her lips into a whistle shape, but they were dry and nothing came out. Even in her dream she knew her mouth was so parched she’d have to wake up and get herself a drink. Her eyes filled with dust when she opened them.

  ‘For pity’s sake,’ she hollered, scrambling hastily to her feet. ‘Do you have to land that thing right on top of us? Georgie, come here. You can’t bite a helicopter, it’s too big. Georgie!�
��

  It was no good; he couldn’t hear her over the din. Georgie continued to feint and bark at the chopper as it came in to land.

  What a way to wake up! She felt befuddled, stale, and decidedly bad- tempered. She suddenly panicked, remembering she was supposed to have kept Leon awake, not fallen asleep herself. Falling to her knees beside him she anxiously stared at his chest to see if he was still breathing.

  ‘Wake up, Leon.’

  His eyes screwed open and he stared her, looking puzzled. When she offered him an encouraging smile he swore, and closed them again.

  If that was the effect she had on patients she’d better not take up nursing!

  She stood to one side as the doctor bustled to Leon’s side and prised open his eyelids. It was hopeless trying to decipher which of the medico’s maddening grunts were encouraging, and which were not.

  ‘Will he be all right?’

  Jeff drew her aside, handing her a ham sandwich and some coffee.

  ‘Let the doctor get on with his job, okay, Darcie. Your husband’s in good hands now.’

  ‘Are you saying he wasn’t before?’

  He shot her a steady look.

  ‘Sorry.’ She gave him a wry smile. ‘I must have got out of bed on the wrong side. Tell me something, Jeff, why do policemen have this deadpan look to them. It’s most disconcerting.’

  ‘It’s supposed to be. It unnerves the crims.’ Jeff cracked a reluctant chuckle. ‘You did well to find your husband in the dark.’

  ‘Georgie found him really. What’s the time, Jeff?’

  ‘Nine-thirty. I’m sorry it took so long to get here; we had to wait for the mist to clear. I tried to call you earlier.’

  ‘I expect the phone needs charging. Leon’s phone is halfway down Lover’s Leap.’

  ‘Be thankful he didn’t join it. I’ve had a look around. I think he slipped off the top. Luckily, his momentum took him in the opposite direction to his phone. He could quite easily have gone the other way if he’d been stunned.’

  She shuddered at the thought as she sipped at the sweet milky coffee, relishing its comforting warmth, and absorbing the energy giving caffeine. She felt half-alive rather than half-dead when she finished drinking it - which was a marginal improvement.