‘Unbelievable,’ she murmured, but she wasn’t sure whether she meant Jago’s behaviour or her own.
‘Smile,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘My mother’s coming.’
He walked forwards to greet her, with Miranda close behind. As they closed the gap on Lady St Merryn, Miranda could see the outline of her slight figure through the filmy fabric of the kaftan. Lady St Merryn’s hair, far from being restrained in a severe updo, was gathered back simply in a leather clip, like a silver-grey mane of a horse.
‘Je-sus,’ breathed Jago.
‘I think she looks beautiful,’ said Miranda, marvelling at the way Lady St Merryn sashayed along the quay, even with her stick.
‘Mother?’
Lady St Merryn held up her hand to silence them. ‘Not a word. In fact, I’ll say it for you. I’ve gone off my rocker.’ Her expression challenged them to deny it.
‘Where did you get the kaftan?’ asked Miranda.
‘This old thing? It came out of the attic. It’s an original Mary Quant from the King’s Road – used to belong to an aunt of mine who handed it down to me. It probably smells a tad musty although I’ve had it airing for a couple of days.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Jago, you look like someone has slapped you in the face with a wet haddock.’
‘I’m speechless, Mother.’
‘Really? How refreshing. But no matter. As everyone is already talking about the St Merryns, I decided to come out and really give them something to talk about. You may as well know, Miranda, that I’m going to San Francisco at the end of the season and I thought I’d get into the spirit of things. When in Rome and all that.’
‘Mother, I’m not sure that people are still wearing that kind of thing over there.’
‘How do you know? Have you been there lately?’
‘Not for a couple of years.’
‘Then things might have changed. And besides, I don’t give a fig if they’re wearing suits of armour. I’m going to dress as I like.’
‘But here? People will talk.’
Lady St Merryn looked at Jago as if she’d just caught him stealing from her purse. ‘Talk? Talk about me? They’re far too busy gossiping about you. Everyone within a thirty-mile radius knows about your unscheduled voyage. I hope you’ve settled up with the gig club.’
Miranda enjoyed seeing him squirm.
‘Of course. I paid for the repairs to the boat and made a generous donation to the club.’
‘You’re damn lucky they haven’t reported you to the police.’
‘They obviously wanted the cash more than justice.’
Lady St Merryn sighed. ‘And fortunately for you money can buy everything. And yet you think that by selling the Mount, you can rid yourself of your responsibilities and melt into the crowd. As long as you have money you have a burden. Running off won’t help.’
Jago’s expression darkened. ‘I’m not “running off” as you put it, I’m making a business decision and, as you well know, money can’t buy everything and I should know that better than anyone.’
‘I ought to be getting back to the office,’ said Miranda, horrified at being dragged into a family spat, even if she was partly involved in it.
‘Yes, you do that. There’s no point in you being embarrassed by Jago as well as the rest of the village.’
Miranda swallowed hard but Jago didn’t even look at her. It was partly her fault that he and Lady St Merryn were arguing now.
‘Yes, run along, Miranda,’ he said nastily.
Miranda revised her opinion. The git deserved everything he got from his mother.
Lady St Merryn shook her head. ‘What’s happened to you? You know, sometimes I think I should stay here after all.’
His face fell as if he was genuinely worried then he set his jaw. ‘Suit yourself, but I’m leaving.’
Miranda felt like a spectator. ‘See you later,’ she said quickly and escaped, full of relief and guilt.
Once she reached the office she risked a glance back. Lady St Merryn was being helped into a boat by the helmsman of the visitor ferry and Jago had vanished, either into the visitor areas or, more likely, up the back path to the castle.
If Lady St Merryn was having a midlife crisis, she was doing it in style. Her metamorphosis into Cher was a shock but it only signified that she had already left the Mount behind, psychologically at least. And Jago was clearly more determined than ever to sell.
A few days later, Ronnie staggered into Miranda’s office, clutched the arm of the swivel chair and collapsed into it.
Miranda looked up. She’d been in the middle of typing up the Festival of Fools programme. ‘What’s the matter? Are you all right?’
‘Not really. I’ve just seen her ladyship in a pair of jeans and a headband.’
‘A headband!’
‘Yup. One of those rainbow-striped, beaded ones like Native Americans wear. And the jeans were what my gran calls “bell bottoms”. Reggie saw her. He said she looks like a white Bob Marley. He almost offered her a spliff. Not that I condone drugs, of course.’
Miranda knew for a fact that Reggie grew cannabis in a greenhouse behind his cottage, and that Ronnie regularly went round there to indulge, so ignored this.
‘Fred says that Lady St Merryn told him she was going to San Francisco. What the hell does she want to go there for?’ said Ronnie.
‘Maybe for a holiday or to get some treatment for her arthritis?’
‘I got the impression she was going away for good. I guess that means we’ll be left to Jago’s tender mercies. The place will go to the dogs if it does but San Francisco sounds wonderful. I had some colleagues who went on an exchange trip to Californian penitentiaries. They were taken to Alcatraz on a day out.’ Ronnie sighed longingly. ‘Do they actually wear kaftans in San Fran any more?’
Miranda closed her Word document. ‘I don’t think Lady St Merryn cares.’ But there was definitely something about reliving her lost youth in that kaftan. And the hair. Going back there must have something to do with the past. Even Jago had been surprised. ‘Ronnie, did you want me for something because if not, hun, I have to try to finish putting the Festival programme together.’
‘I saw that French bloke, Pierre, and his mate get off a boat again this morning. Do you know anything about it?’
Miranda felt goosebumps creep across her skin like little cat’s feet. ‘No … I don’t.’ She felt a jag of unease and disappointment and then relief. Jago had invited Southcastle again and he hadn’t involved her this time. That was a good thing, wasn’t it?
‘You see, I’m beginning to get a bit worried. What with Jago turning up out of the blue and Lady St Merryn off to spread peace and love and those two suits visiting the island … you would tell me if there was anything I should know about, wouldn’t you, hun?’
The phone rang. Miranda snatched it up hoping it would be an important call, preferably with a complicated issue to deal with at the very top of the castle. ‘Can I help you?’
A few minutes later she put down the receiver. ‘That was South West Television. I sent them a press release and they want to come to the Festival to do a piece for the regional news.’
Ronnie’s eyes lit up. ‘Excellent! Do you think they’ll want an interview with me? Oh, I must go and phone Neem. He won’t believe that we’re going to be on telly!’
Chapter Sixteen
Since their meeting at the pub, Miranda had expected Theo to call, if only to discuss the possibility of the tug-of-war team coming to the Festival. Ronnie had been out with Neem but said that the whole team would have to make sure they had the date free before they could agree.
Of course, she’d also expected Theo to ask her out for a date but a week passed by and he hadn’t called. She wondered if Theo had just been making polite conversation. Or maybe he really did think she was having a relationship with Jago and that’s why he hadn’t called. She didn’t want him – or anyone in the village – to assume that because it just wasn’t true. Oh what a tangled w
eb, she thought. That was what happened when you got involved with Jago.
She was working in the office one afternoon when Theo’s rich rolling burr came on the phone.
‘Hi there,’ he said.
Her pulse skittered. ‘Hello.’
‘Sorry I haven’t called. It took me ages to get the lads to agree to be in the same place at the same time but they’re all ready now; we’ll definitely be at the Festival.’
Miranda, relieved at the normality of the conversation, started to gush. ‘Oh, that’s brilliant. I’m so thrilled. It will be fantastic.’
‘Don’t get too excited,’ said Theo with a laugh. They discussed some ideas for bringing the inshore lifeboat, a display and a stall then Theo said, ‘I hear Jago was up to his old tricks again after we met in the Pilchard.’
There was no use pretending she didn’t know what Theo meant. Everyone in the village had heard. She laughed it off. ‘I heard he got a bit pissed but I think he’s squared it with the rowing club.’
‘Yes, it’s always easy to put things right when you’ve got the money,’ said Theo. ‘You can get away with pretty much anything and still come up smelling of roses. But I expect you’ve worked that out by now.’
Miranda squirmed with a mixture of discomfort at Theo’s chippiness and at her own part in wrecking the boat. She listened for any hint of irony in Theo’s voice or for clues that he’d guessed her part in it after all. Unlike Jago, she wasn’t as confident in Karen’s discretion and it was also possible that other people in the village or on the Mount had seen their drunken escapades.
She crossed her fingers, relieved Theo couldn’t see her red cheeks. ‘Oh, I do my best to keep out of the family’s private lives,’ she said lightly.
‘That’s a very wise move. It’s not really my business and I’m sure you’re bright enough not to be taken in by Jago, but I thought I’d sound a warning note. The man’s trouble and I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.’ He paused then added, ‘And we must have that drink sometime. I’m going on a course at the Lifeboat College in Poole and then I’ve got a week’s leave – I’m going to visit my sister in Scotland – but when I get home, we must get together. I’ll call you as soon as I get back.’
Miranda made polite noises and put down the phone. Theo couldn’t know what had happened, she was sure he would have dropped a hint if he had. He really disliked the St Merryns; she could understand it to a point. But Theo’s animosity towards Jago seemed to go beyond general envy of the local landowner; in fact she had the distinct feeling that it was very very personal.
Over the next couple of weeks, Miranda hardly had a moment to spare as midsummer approached and the tourist season got into full swing. Lady St Merryn continued to float about the Mount in a succession of ever more vibrant hippy-inspired outfits, radiating her own regal brand of love and peace. Miranda might resent her for leaving, but she had to admit that it seemed the right decision for her ladyship.
As for her son, Miranda knew it was impossible to avoid Jago; she saw him every day and, inevitably, they had to discuss a variety of issues relating to the finances and future events and plans for the Mount.
She hadn’t seen Jumeau and Devlin again but that didn’t mean they hadn’t visited or that Jago hadn’t been meeting them. In fact it was likely he had been to see them; he’d definitely been up to London twice and made no secret of it.
It hardly mattered. The sale was still going ahead and he’d assured her he would be announcing it to the staff as soon as the ink was dry on the contract. Miranda had thrown herself into her work, partly as a distraction and partly because she wanted to enjoy what could possibly be her last season at the Mount. Who knew what would happen to her role after the changeover? Even though she hated the idea of leaving, she couldn’t get her head around working for Southcastle and had started looking at vacancies at other historic properties.
However, downloading the application form for a Scottish castle was as far as she’d got.
Work had enveloped everything else, which was inevitable at this time of year. Lunch breaks had almost evaporated and the chance to make small talk with the visitors had vanished. She still made her pilgrimage to see the last boat of the day off the island but, after they had left, there was still more paperwork to do in the evenings.
After working nine straight days without a break, she finally cracked. Having spent the morning dealing with an obese Manchester United fan who’d had been taken to the mainland with heat exhaustion, she retreated to her office with a thumping headache. She made the mistake of laying her head on the desk for a minute and the next thing she knew, someone shook her arm.
‘Narrgh. Nooo …’
‘Miranda?’
‘Urghh.’
‘Miranda!’
‘Eh?’ She blinked as a face came into focus. ‘Is it morning? My alarm hasn’t gone off.’
‘It’s half past three in the afternoon.’ Jago’s hand lay on her shoulder.
‘Sorry. I didn’t realise …’
He took his hand away and glared down at her. ‘My mother says you’ve missed your last four days off and refused to take a break.’
‘Have I? Oh God … well, we’re too busy.’ To her horror, Miranda felt moisture on her chin. Don’t say she’d been drooling. She lifted her head and winced.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘Bit of a headache. Do you mind getting me a glass of water, please? I’ve got some aspirin in my bag.’
She found the pills while he filled a glass from the staff kitchen. He came back and handed over the water and she took the pills and sipped.
He stood in front of her desk, with his arms folded. ‘Better?’
‘I will be in a few minutes.’
‘Good. Then go home.’
‘But there’s tons of paperwork to do. There’s a health and safety report to complete and I have to finish a proposal for a heritage grant by the end of tomorrow. Oh and the conservator needs to be briefed on the restoration of the tapestry in the library. Then there are the appraisals for the hourly paid staff and …’
He walked round to her and lifted her elbow. ‘Go home, Miranda. Now.’
‘But who will do all the work?’
‘I will.’
She stared at him. ‘You? You must be joking!’
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’ He pulled her to her feet.
‘But you can’t. You don’t know how things work. No one does.’
‘No one is indispensible, Miranda, even you. Now, I’ll try my best and what I can’t do, I’ll ask for help from one of the staff.’ He propelled her out of the door, still protesting.
‘Hey, wait!’
Ignoring her, Jago marched her out of the office and onto the quayside.
‘People are looking. I’ll go quietly,’ she said as Daisy stood, hands on hips, and an ‘oh er, missus’ expression on her round face.
He pushed open the front door of her cottage. ‘In you go.’
‘OK, OK. I don’t need herding.’
But she had begun to rather enjoy it – until she remembered he would be in charge of her office.
‘Sit,’ he ordered as he led her into the sitting room. She was so surprised that she did just that. ‘Now, I’ll instruct the staff that you’re not to be disturbed for the rest of today or tomorrow and if they see you in any of the office areas, I’ll get them to report to me. Get some rest.’
*
Two days off to rest. Miranda faced it with a mix of pleasure, confusion and dismay. She had a ridiculously tingly feeling at Jago’s concern. On the other hand, she dreaded what kind of chaos he might cause in the offices. The staff would be horrified, and Ronnie and Jago would be sure to get into a fight.
By late afternoon, she caved in and phoned one of her assistants to see how things were going.
‘Hello.’
‘Is that you, Miranda?’
Bugger. It was Jago. She hadn’t expected him to actually answer the phone.
<
br /> ‘Yes.’
‘Go away.’
‘But I only wanted to see how you’re getting on. If you needed me.’
‘No.’
The phone clicked off. Miranda flopped onto the sofa. Why was it so hard to do nothing? Even when you’d longed to do nothing? She was like one of those hamsters on a treadmill, still frantically running like the clappers even though her wheel had been taken away. She contemplated her mobile, fingers twitching. Perhaps she should text Ronnie and ask her how things were going. Her phone beeped and she jumped. The message was from Jago.
Don’t even think about it.
Stay away from work, he’d said. She knew she should get off the island, Jago was right. The following morning, having pottered round the cottage and half-heartedly looked at in the application form for the Scottish castle and booked a massage at the health spa of a nearby hotel, she decided to catch some rays on the island’s private beach. She made a sandwich for lunch, picked up a novel she’d been meaning to read and shut the door behind her.
She took a detour to the tiny beach via the offices and thought she could see Jago’s head through the window. What on earth was going on in there? Should she just pop her head round the door and make sure all was well?
No. Jago would expect her not to trust him so it was probably better not to live up to his expectations. She set her eyes straight ahead and unlocked the gate to the private beach. Hidden from the main harbour by a narrow gated walkway through a rocky outcrop, it only had access from the staff route. The concrete walkway led to a small patch of sand and rocks, which was currently covered in shallow water.
She sat down on a rock by the water’s edge, her toes dangling in the sea and the sun warming her cheeks. She could hear a faint buzz of voices on the nearby quayside, the chug of boats, the odd shout or shriek. But she was alone and enjoying a moment of peace.
So it was with a sigh that she heard the latch of the gate opening and heard someone else coming.
It was Jago.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, more brusquely than she’d meant.
He grinned. ‘I own the place.’
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