After an hour or so, during which Hugo still had not said anything, he announced that he thought he’d go up to bed, and left the room with the more comfortable gait that he had adopted in the higher temperatures of this island paradise. But there had been a snake in Eden. And he knew now that there were at least two snakes on Caribbaya, and he had no inclination to tangle with either of them, ever again.
Lady Amanda had taken her discoveries more in her stride, but she sat on, thinking how on earth she could seek justice for her old chums who had purchased properties on the island. After about forty-five minutes, she decided to go out for a walk, as the wind had dropped considerably; maybe the storm had veered off somewhere else. A brisk walk along the beach would do her thought processes the world of good, and the wind would help to blow away the cobwebs in her mind.
It was still gusty outside, but bearable, and she headed straight for the sand of the beach, where she could look out to sea. The sky had cleared a little, and there was some starlight. Looking up in the darkness always made her feel calm, and allayed any fears she had about everyday life. She was so small and insignificant in comparison to the vastness of space that she completely relaxed and it always helped her to clear her mind, or make it up about something that had been bothering her.
She did this at Belchester Towers, too, looking up and to the north, so that her view should not be detracted from by the orange glow that showed above the small city. To the north was open countryside for some miles. She usually slipped out of a back door so that no one knew what she was up to, but she had the feeling that Beauchamp suspected, as she was always so much more placid and decisive the next day.
She made the decision that it would all have to come out, and that she would have to get together all those who had bought properties, and persuade them to get in touch with the owner of the island, explain how they had been duped, and see if he would issue a ninety-nine year lease, or something close to it, so that they did not lose their investment completely. There didn’t seem to be any other solution.
She would have to have a word with that police inspector if he ever came back to the island, or go to the security service that passed for police, based near the jewellery quarter. Beauchamp would know how to go about things: she’d have to consult him.
Turning to make her way back to number fifteen, she saw, once again, that tall figure, disappearing down the beach but, when she turned her head slightly, she saw another figure disappear behind the villas. Who the hell was that? Grabbing her kaftan to make running – or the best attempt she could make at it – easier, she was off. When she got to the back of the properties, however, there was no one in sight, and there were no lights on in any of the villas. She could hardly knock everybody up and ask them if somebody had just had a clandestine meeting with someone else, possibly a smuggler, could she? It might have been a date, for all she knew.
All the evidence, so far, pointed at that person being in Wuffles’ house, but she had no desire to call there and risk blowing the Customs investigator’s cover. This was something else to keep to herself for now. She knew that walk that the first figure had had, however. She had seen it several times now, but just couldn’t nail down who it was. It was like looking through a distorting mirror, where you have difficulty in recognising your own face. At the moment, she hadn’t connected the conversation that Hugo had overheard as being anything other than a clandestine meeting of would-be lovers.
Anyway, the wind was getting up again, and the cloud cover was returning, so she’d certainly better get back before the light went completely behind cloud cover, or the electricity went off. Or worse.
At a house across the close, a figure had just slipped into the back garden and into the house as silently as possible. It then mounted the stairs without putting on any lights and went into the spare room where it had concealed its nightclothes. A quick change, and the figure was ready to slip into its room, knowing that it was going to get away with this part of the plan, but with severe misgivings about the next part.
The figure did, indeed, get into bed without rousing anyone, even managing to slip the clothes worn that evening into the chest of drawers. But sleep didn’t come easily, and half the night passed before this blessed escape was achieved. Thus, the severance of the electricity supply was noticed by no one in Parrot Bay until the next morning.
Lady Amanda also lay awake for some time, mulling over what she had seen on her little stroll. The plot was definitely thickening. She just wished she’d had some excuse – any old excuse – for making such a late-night call on number seven, but even if she could have thought up a plausible reason for the visit, she didn’t want to panic Wuffles. She’d have to speak to her tomorrow about her experiences on the beach.
Chapter Fourteen
As the residents awoke the next morning, the first thing everyone did was look out of their bedroom window. The storm had calmed a little, but it had had its fun with the island, vegetation uprooted or torn from its plant was strewn everywhere, and any grass that had grown just a couple of inches was flattened by the fierceness of the overnight wind.
As the girls got dressed, they all decided that there would have to be a grand clear-up, and made their way outside to establish a working party. They had gathered together a great pile of branches and palm fronds when Winstone Churchill drew into the road in his taxi, with a fanfare of greeting on his horn. Whoever could this be?
Lady Amanda and Windy approached it as the man got out and opened the door for his passenger, disgorging a very forlorn-looking Horseface on to the narrow sidewalk, a heavily laden rucksack on her back.
‘What on earth are you doing out of the close at this hour?’ asked Windy. ‘Where have you been?’
Without a word, Horseface strode off towards number one without a reply, and it was left to Winstone to provide them with information. ‘Ah found her down at de north dock, blown every which way an’ soaked to de skin. She said she’d walked down from Parrot Bay – in dis weather. I tole her she must be mad, but she said she was waitin’ for de ferry to get to de north island to get a plane home. I said there was no way she was getting’ off Caribbaya for at least a couple of days, with de storm not blown out and liable to come back, and she really lost her rag wid me.
‘I tole her, it wasn’t mah fault, and that she wouldn’t have been able to get a flight today anyway, as there would only have been a flight to de mainland today, and not a transatlantic one. If she wanted an on-going flight, it would have been tomorrow, but all dat’s dependent on de wedder. Den she burst into tears and begged me to find a way for her to get away.
‘Well, dere weren’t nothin’ Ah could do, so I brought her back here, but she sure is in a black mood, and Ah don’ know why. Wot she want to leave here early for, anyway? And why she got no proper suitcase? She must-a left half her stuff behind in de house.’
‘Thank you very much for taking care of her and bringing her back here,’ said Windy appreciatively. ‘If the wind comes back, anything could have happened to her. I’ll go down there now. Are you coming, Sniffy?’
‘Too right, I am,’ said Lady A, scenting that the hunt was on.
Fflageolet had seen the arrival of her housemate, and hurried over to number one to see what was going on and where Horseface had been. She’d not checked her room when she got up, just assuming that the other woman was still asleep and would join them when she woke.
She was first through the door, and found Horseface sitting on the sofa, curled into a ball and sobbing her heart out. ‘Whatever’s happened to get you in a state like this?’ she asked, sitting beside the bedraggled and desolate figure and putting an arm around her shoulders.
‘Nothing. Leave me alone,’ was the only reply. Fflageolet handed her a tissue from the box on the coffee table so that she could blow her nose, as there were twin trickles of mucous decorating her face when she looked up briefly – what Matron at school had referred to as a ‘number eleven’ on the top lip.
Before either of them had the chance to say anything else, Lady Amanda and Windy burst in through the door and asked what the hell was going on. ‘Why did you just go like that?’ asked Windy. ‘Did someone here upset you so much that you felt you had to run away?’
‘I wasn’t rudding away,’ replied Horseface, her blocked nose distorting her speech. ‘I just wadded to go home.’
‘But you’re not a quitter – or at least, you never used to be. Whatever has happened for you to react like this?’
‘It’s nothig. Just be being ibbature.’
‘But you were a bit jumpy yesterday, so something’s obviously happened that’s unsettled you,’ Lady A commented.
At this, Horseface launched herself from the sofa and hurtled out of the room, where they heard her furious stamping upstairs, and the slam of her bedroom door.
‘I can’t think what’s got her into such a state,’ said Fflageolet. ‘If you just leave her here, maybe I can get something out of her when she calms down.’
‘If she calms down,’ commented Windy with an indignant sniff. She had never been walked out on like this before, not even at school. Her power had been absolute, and she always got her own way. Until now.
‘Come on, let’s get back outside,’ suggested Lady A. She really didn’t want to be cooped up with Windy any longer than was decently necessary. She needed time to think what she was going to do about what she knew about the ownership – or not – of the houses that had, seemingly, been lawfully purchased. She needed to consult with Hugo. She also needed to talk to Beauchamp and Enid; four heads were better than two.
When the old girls had finished clearing up as best as they could, they went back to their various bases, the storm being expected to return, only with greater force than the night before. It simply wasn’t worth it trying to go anywhere or do anything. Inside was best, with the shutters tightly fastened, and the lights on.
As they dispersed, Lady Amanda indicated to Beauchamp that she and Hugo would be going back to their place. It was better if they weren’t quite so handy for Windy to drop in on them. Hugo was a little confused when she steered him towards number eight, but he soon caught on that there was to be a putting together of heads. Something had to be done before any of the other girls tried to buy one of the villas on the close. He didn’t know what they could do about those old girls who had already lashed out large sums, but they could certainly put a halt to any other sales.
Number eight was of a much more open-plan design than number fifteen, the downstairs comprising one big area which encompassed the living area, a dining space, and a zoned kitchen. It must have got an incredible amount of light when the shutters weren’t closed.
‘This is much nicer than ours, with the three different rooms,’ said Hugo, looking around with pleasure.
‘Yes, but it doesn’t have the same floor space as our three rooms combined,’ replied Lady Amanda, slightly put out that the honeymooners had been allocated this American-style villa. She’d have been very happy with it herself.
‘Not so good for permanent living, though,’ Enid consoled her. ‘Entertaining would be a nightmare, with all the pots and pans on display while you tried to conduct a civilised dinner party. And you’re hardly likely to be purchasing one anyway, given what you told us last night.’
‘How do we go about resolving the matter though? That’s the knotty question.’ Lady Amanda looked hopefully at Beauchamp, whom she had previously considered to be the fount of all knowledge. ‘What can we do, Beauchamp?’
‘The first thing we need to do is to find out if anyone’s approached her with an interest in buying. If they have, we have to warn them that they mustn’t part with any money.’ he said, most sensibly.
‘But how do we do that without raising suspicion, or alerting Windy and Beep-Beep?’ Lady Amanda’s concern could be heard in her voice. She didn’t want all those old friends to lose their life-savings in a wicked scam like this, perpetrated by their former head girl.
‘I don’t think that can be avoided. We’ve got to rat on them at some point, and they’ll probably make a run for it, once they’ve got wind of what we know, but that can’t be helped,’ he continued. ‘I don’t think we can avoid raising suspicion, but that would stop them getting their hands on any more money. What we can do for those that have already been fleeced is a bit more difficult. We’ll have to come up with a pretty nifty scheme to stop them losing out completely. Leave it with me, and I’ll see what I can come up with.’
‘As you’re here, do you want to stay to lunch?’ asked Enid, now the considerate hostess. ‘I could rustle us up something pretty quickly, if you’d like to stay.’
Hugo agreed enthusiastically, Lady Amanda merely nodding, lost in thought. After a while, she said, ‘I suppose I could go round to Windy’s and ask her if there had been any interest in the villas after our mass viewing, when we get back. I’ve been keeping a straight face and a zipped lip so far.’
‘That’s a jolly good idea, Manda. Just don’t ask me to go with you. I don’t think I could look either of them in the eye again.’
‘I wouldn’t trust you not to say something,’ came the slightly derogatory reply, but she wasn’t really paying attention, her thoughts running ahead of her actions, concerning the proposed invasion of what she now saw as enemy territory.
In just under half an hour, Enid served up ham, salad, and mashed sweet potatoes, a combination that was acceptable to all four of them, with a fruit salad for dessert, then coffee, taken back on the softer upholstery of the twin sofas. Lady Amanda still held her peace about the possibility of smugglers – apart from Adonis and his emeralds – and when the clock struck three, she suggested to Hugo that they really ought to get back to number fifteen.
‘Do we have to?’ he asked, with his lower lip stuck out petulantly, making Enid laugh at his resemblance to a mutinous schoolboy.
‘Yes we do, but don’t worry; you won’t have to see either of them. I’ll go round and sweet-talk her then, when I leave, I’ll say we’ve already got plans for the evening. I’ll say we’re coming here, if I may, so that, if necessary, we can grab the keys and look ready to go out if she does chance her arm and come round.’
‘That’s fine by me,’ answered Enid, before Beauchamp had the chance to get a word in. She was certainly mistress of this house, although that would of course not be the case when they got back to Belchester Towers. ‘I can always rustle up a quiche or something if you do need to flee here.’
‘You are a kind soul, Enid,’ Hugo thanked her, leaving Beauchamp with his mouth open, not having managed to get a word in, of agreement or otherwise.
Back in their own space, Hugo started to look anxious and furtive. ‘Are you going, then?’ he asked, almost as soon as he had closed the front door, having allowed Manda to precede him, as good manners dictated.
‘Give me a moment, old thing. I’ve got to get my mind round looking completely innocent, and pleased if she’s got anyone else on the hook. I need to arrange my thoughts so that I’m in the right frame of mind.’
‘Well, get a move on, then. I don’t want her turning up round here. I just can’t face her again.’
‘Look, if she comes to the door, you can get yourself off upstairs, and I’ll say you’ve gone to bed with a sick headache, due to being out in the wind this morning. I’m going to have a quick vodka and tonic, for Dutch courage. I’ll only be a few minutes, while I wait for it to take effect.
‘I’ll be in my room until you go.’ Hugo’s courage had failed him, and he couldn’t stand the suspense of the woman maybe turning up at any moment.
‘Coward!’ called Lady A, after his retreating figure, as she drained her glass and waited for the alcohol to hit her brain.
As the muscles in her shoulders got the message and relaxed, she threw down a refill just to help, then set off determinedly towards Cocktails, a smile plastered all over her face. Two large vodkas, and this spy stuff was easy-peasy – as long as the alc
ohol didn’t loosen her tongue and allow her to let out something she hadn’t meant to. Pulling herself together, she rang the doorbell, and knocked as well, as the wind was getting up again.
‘Hello there, Sniffy. What can I do for you?’ Windy greeted her, holding on to the door so that it wasn’t snatched out of her hand.
‘Just seeking a bit of sanctuary,’ she shouted above the howling that had just begun. ‘Hugo’s gone to bed with a sick headache, and I fancied a bit of company.’
‘Poor thing – Hugs, that is. Come on in. I’ve got some rather exciting news, anyway, so I was just going to pop round to you.’ So Hugo had been right. If Lady A hadn’t left when she did, Windy would have been at their door.
‘What weather,’ exclaimed the visitor, ‘just like you, really: Windy by name and windy by nature.’ She suddenly shut up, realising that it was that second vodka speaking for her. ‘May I come in?’
‘Yes, do. Can I get you a cocktail or something?’
‘I’d prefer tea, if you don’t mind, but you go ahead and have a cocktail. I’ll raise my cup to you as if I were having one too.’
‘You’re on,’ replied Windy, rushing to put on the kettle before she got busy making herself a martini. That was good. Lady Amanda could let her drink it and just keep to small talk, while the martini was getting into her bloodstream, and the vodka was working its way out of her pores.
Having served them both, Windy held up her glass and said, ‘Bottoms up,’ while Lady A raised her teacup, repeating the salutation. ‘I’ve got some fab news,’ she continued, only to be interrupted by,
‘Oh, but I must tell you about this lunchtime – before Hugo got his headache,’ which she’d just remembered in time. ‘Your news will keep a few minutes, I’m sure. We went over to number eight; you now, where the Beauchamps are having their honeymoon …’ She wrung every little detail she could out of the rather uneventful luncheon, even including the invitation, which wasn’t quite as she told it, to dinner tonight, but that would only happen if Hugo was feeling better.
Caribbean Sunset with a Yellow Parrot (The Belchester Chronicles Book 5) Page 15
