The Country Escape

by Fiona Walker

  ‘Kat knows exactly what I was asked to do!’ Dougie yelled.

  ‘Leave her alone.’

  ‘That’s up to her to decide, not a bunch of interfering locals.’

  ‘You have been warned of the consequences, Dougie.’

  ‘I’m just here to get her to swim, nothing more.’

  Right now Kat did not want to swim anywhere, and Dougie making her heart explode for no better reason than his desire to see her do a Rebecca Adlington across the lake was no help when she was in the middle of a panic attack. She just wanted silence and a chance to regroup.

  ‘Don’t be so fucking selfish, Dougie!’ Dair bellowed. ‘Think of your colleagues.’

  ‘I am not tipping my cap to a fucking Russian hood.’

  ‘That’s enough!’ Kat wailed, boat rocking. ‘Both of you go! You’re not on estate land. You are trespassing. GO AWAY!’

  Dougie and Dair stopped glaring at each other and turned to the mass of red hair and white knuckles in the little boat.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ Dougie was already kicking off his shoes and turning to dive in past Usha. ‘I’m coming to get you.’

  ‘I do not want to be rescued!’ Kat held up her hand. ‘I’m very happy right here where I am. And stop stressing Usha out!’

  ‘You heard the girl,’ Dair said, with satisfaction, stepping forward to block Dougie’s path. ‘Let’s go. We were due at the security briefing five minutes ago. You’ll get a formal warning for this, Everett.’

  ‘Get lost,’ Dougie snarled, but he stepped back and called across to Kat. ‘You’re really okay?’

  ‘I’m fine, Dougie! Jolly boating weather. It’s all part of the therapy. Please just leave me to it. I mean it.’

  Usha was bellowing her head off now.

  Casting a final worried glance over his shoulder, Dougie turned to leave.

  Dair raised his arm to Kat in farewell as he hopped after Dougie, protesting furiously that he was insufferable and probably working with Russ’s undercover vigilantes, his voice trailing away.

  Kat wasn’t listening. She was just relieved to be able to cling to her boat and find breath eking back into her lungs.

  ‘Wimp, wimp, wimp,’ she berated herself, pressing her face to the sun-warmed wood of the plank seat, breathing creosote and sun-cream. Knowing they were gone, she slumped down with relief, harvesting all her will-power to make it to the safety of the wooden jetty.

  It took Kat half an hour of loin-girding and prayers to get back into Lake Farm, by which time she was astonished to find the house sweltering from the roaring range and Dawn ensconced in the bath.

  ‘Dair lit it,’ she called, through the bathroom door, when Kat tracked her down. ‘He’s incredibly practical, isn’t he? He had to dash off for a meeting with Seth – man, it sounds so glamorous in that house. He’s hired a clutch of supermodels just to drift around looking pretty this weekend, like rented floristry. I can’t wait to hear all the gossip. I said I’d buy Dair a drink in the pub later as a thank-you. I’m hoping I might get us tickets to the Bollywood bash. Do you have any eye drops?’

  She had taken the last glass of wine up to the bath with her and the lurchers had stolen the steaks, leaving Kat with little choice but to take her friend to the pub if they wanted to eat more than beans on toast and goose eggs, yet she felt jumpy at the prospect of village scrutiny. She needed a long heart-to-heart with Dawn: she wanted to unravel her confused feelings and figure out what to do. But Dawn was on a mission.

  ‘Dair couldn’t have been kinder. I think you’ve got him all wrong,’ she insisted, as she wriggled into a strappy dress, covering her reddened eyes with dark glasses. ‘You don’t mind him being there tonight, do you? I know you two have recent history, but I always think it’s best to move swiftly on from these things, don’t you? It’s only a quick drink.’

  ‘I’d hardly call it history.’ Kat pulled on a pair of jeans and trailed into the bathroom to clean her teeth. ‘Constance used to call him the Highland Bull, which she pretended was to do with his flat cap looking like a forelock, but you can guess the real reason.’

  ‘He’s hung like one?’ Dawn asked hopefully, shivering with anticipation.

  ‘I think it’s more to do with the crap that comes out of his mouth.’

  Chapter 54

  Dougie was furiously bowling a tennis ball against a wall in one of the old carriage houses, making Quiver spin and yap as he leaped in the air trying to catch it. He was aiming at one discoloured brick at wicket height, the angry repetition the only thing that was stopping the coiled spring in his mind over-winding to breaking point. He was sparring for a fight – the desire to knock Dair’s block off earlier had been almost overwhelming – but he could hardly march into the main house and start swinging punches at Seth and his VIP guest, which would only make him look more of a prize idiot and probably get him killed by a bodyguard before he’d rescued the girl and driven off into the sunset. In his head, he had a legion of heroic feats he would enact to prove to Kat that he wasn’t a total numskull moron, but in his heart he couldn’t shake the belief that he was never going to slay a dragon so well armed and connected. It would take a cleverer head than his. All he had was forty hours, then forty overs of cricket.

  He struck the discoloured brick square, imaginary wicket flying, before bad light stopped play, the last rays of red sunset flooding through the arched doors.

  Dougie guessed his armour was pretty tarnished, and Kat clearly had no truck with heroic stunts, which rather limited his repertoire. He probably wouldn’t impress her by bowling out the entire village for ducks, but he was still determined to acquit himself with honour and help his team to victory.

  Having been handed the task of captaining a cricket team for the Gough Memorial Trophy match, Dougie had enlisted the help of one of the estate groundsmen, Vic, who had once tried out for Gloucestershire and was among the few remaining Eardisford staff from Constance’s era. Vic knew everybody and was such a friendly, chatty soul that he had no difficulty in hoodwinking some of the newer employees into the first eleven, which both men were convinced was a crack team. Guest and entourage, it was assumed, would have nothing to do with the lowly village match, but Dougie hadn’t forgotten Seth’s passion for the game.

  As he bowled again, he heard a step behind him. ‘Cricket is the only reason you are still here.’

  The ball was wide, ricocheting off the mortar and disappearing overhead towards the open doors where Dollar caught it. She continued reading an email on the tablet she was holding with the other hand.

  ‘You will have to do better than that on Sunday. It is a very good thing that we have brought professionals, I believe.’

  He turned to look at her, magnificently out of place in a tailored red linen dress and high heels that emphasized her aggressively toned slenderness, chital eyes kohl-rimmed and huge. Rack the kennel man was hanging over a half-door nearby, open-mouthed. Equally entranced, little Gut was pressure-hosing the cobbles a few feet behind her, not noticing that the nozzle was pointing at his own feet. The water spray catching in the evening sun cast a rainbow over her head.

  ‘Are you talking about hunting or cricket?’ Dougie asked, wandering across the dusty flagstones to collect his ball.

  ‘Cricket, of course. Seth has no interest in hunting, luckily for you.’ To Dougie’s surprise, her eyes glowed with warmth when they finally looked up. She tucked the tablet under one arm and pressed her hands together in a namaste greeting. ‘Where is your phone? I’ve been calling, but there is no answer.’

  ‘It fell in the lake.’

  ‘No matter. We will replace it.’ She pulled out her tablet again and tapped a note into the screen. ‘This stableyard is looking most impressive. The horses are very fit, I take it?’

  ‘They’re getting there. They’ll be hard-core by the start of the season.’ Dougie stepped out into the courtyard. He was nonplussed by her upbeat attitude, having fully expected her to be in Kali warrior-goddess
mode, ready to read the Riot Act and pull out her gun, demanding that he show respect and gallop after muntjac, bowstring drawn.

  ‘Seth is very much looking forward to the cricket match,’ she told him, a hint of a smile touching her wide, scarlet-painted lips.

  He groaned when she broke the news that two professional Indian international cricketers had been invited to guest in the team – to be passed off as members of Seth’s staff – and were staying at the local spa hotel, awaiting Dougie’s instructions.

  ‘Please tell me this is a joke.’

  ‘Why would I joke? Seth takes cricket and business very seriously,’ she informed him, smile vanishing, dark eyes studying his physique and noting the changes with approval: his body had hardened with physical work and tanned deep butterscotch in the sun, which had bleached near-white streaks in his tousled hair. ‘You are in better shape, although your personal grooming still lacks finesse. We must get your hair cut before Seth sees you.’

  Dougie resented being assessed like a show horse, but that was nothing in comparison to having his cricket team hijacked, and he refused to be side-tracked. ‘We can’t put hired ringers in the estate side. The village is mutinous enough as it is. I need to speak with Seth about this.’

  ‘That isn’t possible. He is fully occupied with his guest tonight. There is a very precise schedule of entertainment.’

  ‘Don’t tell me he’s flying in Elton John and Rihanna, or is he saving them for tomorrow?’

  Dollar cleared her throat, not looking at him, and he realized he was far closer to the mark than he’d imagined. ‘Tonight is just a select gathering. Tomorrow evening, as you know, we have a Bollywood theme and three hundred guests have been invited. Sunday will be devoted to cricket. We hope that the estate will be preparing for victory.’ She studied her screen again. ‘Seth himself will bat third.’

  Dougie’s team line-up was now in disarray. ‘Why didn’t you say he wanted to play too?’

  ‘Of course he will play. It is good PR. Igor and the rest of the party will be kept fully entertained by Dair’s team throughout the weekend so Seth can be available to play on Sunday afternoon. He would like to keep his identity very low key until the end of the match, when he intends to make a small speech to introduce himself before the trophy presentation.’

  ‘Won’t the villagers recognize him from the party?’

  ‘He will be anonymous there too. Seth is a very modest person. He feels it is important to make a positive impression on the local community before he reveals who he really is.’

  Dougie looked up at the sky. ‘He won’t do that by buying his way to victory, no matter how many mango cocktails he hits the locals with the night before, especially as they’ll be at the “servants’ party”.’ He looked at Dollar, blue eyes imploring. ‘Didn’t he learn anything from the point-to-point fiasco? This isn’t a computer game you can beat with a cheat code, demoting everyone else to drones.’ He ran his hands through his hair despairingly. ‘I suggest we offer the village team one of the pros and call them “international guest stars”, and we can probably rescue this with full honours.’

  ‘Seth will not be prepared to do that,’ Dollar said matter-of-factly. ‘He wants to win the match.’

  ‘In that case, tell him I quit. Cricket was a reason for staying here, and this definitely isn’t cricket.’

  For once her face betrayed her, dark eyes widening to saucers. ‘This is most unwise. Your contract cannot be verbally terminated, Dougie. I have already had to work very hard to gloss over your reluctance to honour it in recent days. There will be very severe consequences if you insist on leaving us completely, on this weekend especially.’

  ‘You hired the wrong man.’

  Glancing over her shoulder to see Rack still gazing at her in mute wonder and Gut pressure-hosing the same few inches of cobbles, Dollar stepped closer to him, lowering her voice to an undertone: ‘I would strongly advise against this. You have a lot of ground to make up, it is true. Your start has been unsatisfactory, and the business with the girl is very disappointing, but we can still turn this around.’

  ‘I can only hunt within the law,’ he hissed. ‘And I’m not some fucking gigolo.’

  ‘You should have thought of that before you signed the contract.’

  ‘I was in no state to sign that thing, as well you know.’

  ‘Indeed.’ She stared at her screen again, her deep voice little more than a whisper. ‘You are not alone there. I should have warned you, but my curiosity and attraction were too great.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I will come to the mill later. We can only talk about killing contracts in complete privacy.’

  Put like that, it sounded worryingly lethal.

  Chapter 55

  If the biblical silence that fell when Kat walked into the Eardisford Arms told her instantly that she was at the centre of a village scandal, the fact that Dawn and Dair didn’t appear to register it told her they were in the centre of an equally big and unexpected village romance.

  Mags frantically beckoned her to the bar. ‘Is it true?’ she stage-whispered, already pouring her a free pint. ‘Did he really propose?’

  ‘Give him a chance, they’re only just sitting down.’ Kat watched Dair holding back a chair for Dawn at the table by the unlit fire, where his obedient pointers were already in situ amid the resident terriers, watching their master jealously. Was it her imagination or was Dair bowing now?

  ‘I’m talking about Dougie Everett,’ Mags pursued. ‘I mean, we know he was paid to marry you, but I hear he actually popped the question?’

  ‘What’d you say?’

  ‘She said, no, o’ course.’

  Kat pulled out her biggest smile. She had an audience several earthmen deep. ‘This has been blown out of all proportion,’ she assured them. ‘Really. It was just a joke.’

  ‘Not what we heard.’

  ‘Trying to get you out of the farm, he is.’

  ‘The Hon Con would be tossing in her grave.’

  ‘We’ll get the bastard for this.’

  ‘Leading a poor young girl astray, and him a Hollywood star.’

  ‘Did he give you one?’

  Kat deflected the attention as best she could, smile to the fore, wishing she had her own bubble to climb into as Dawn and Dair clearly had. There was a chair for her at their table, but she hung back, preferring to take her chances with the Greek chorus, however gladiatorial, than to muddy the waters between Orpheus and Eurydice.

  She’d thought the drunken tête-à-tête between them on her friend’s first visit had been a one-off, but within minutes of Dawn buying Dair a pint, the two were going heart to heart as well as nose to nose, comparing house-selling horror stories, box-set viewing tastes, quiz-show favourites and some alarmingly right-wing views about immigration. Seeing them together again, it was blatantly obvious they got on famously, Dawn providing the bubbles to Dair’s dry sophistication. And they looked good together too, Kat was surprised to note. Suddenly Dair looked more Bruce Willis than William Hague, manning up alongside such feminine glamour; and cast against his tweedy splendour, Dawn was less a gaudy urban bird of paradise than a kingfisher.

  ‘There’s chemistry there.’ Mags sighed and the earthmen united in agreement as they watched Dair and Dawn laughing, body-mirroring, self-grooming, touching fingers and drinking like fish.

  ‘Make a nice couple.’

  ‘Needs a wife, does Dair.’

  ‘He’s a good catch.’

  ‘Lovely man.’

  ‘Backbone of Eardisford.’

  ‘How can you say that?’ Kat lamented. ‘He’s a terrible shit-stirrer.’

  ‘Can’t avoid shit if you work with beasts and earth.’

  ‘Oh, stop being so bloody rural. This is my lovely mate. With Dair.’

  Kat had a suspicion that Dawn saw trips to Herefordshire like the stress-busting all-night benders they’d once enjoyed as students, then later on package holiday
s and hen nights where different rules had applied. When Dawn let her hair down, her common sense went with it. Her dodgy male conquests had once been legendary, along with her table-dancing, gate-crashing high spirits. From what Kat could gather, she had adopted much the same philosophy while on board the cruise ships, but with less bed-hopping and more tabletop tangoing. The last few weeks had clearly stressed her out enormously, and tonight she was letting her hair down with old-style binge-drinking bravado.

  She was skipping towards the Ladies now, dark glasses on top of her head, and, to Kat’s horror, blowing a kiss to Dair over her shoulder as she went. Just as alarmingly, he blew one back. Kat stalked hurriedly after her for a private loo consultation.