Country Plot (37 page)

‘Become an estate agent.' He made a face, and she said crossly, ‘
I
don't know. Work behind a bar. Anything, so long as it's respectable.'

‘I could be a political researcher for an MP,' he said. ‘That'd be an interesting job.'

‘I
said
“respectable”.'

He grinned. ‘Never mind, Red. You can reform me another time. For now, there's our plot to film Sullivan and his shocking antics at my flat.'

‘You're not to tell me about that,' she said. ‘Have some cake.'

‘All right, but I will say this. Watch out for Caroline. She was really mad yesterday, and since she definitely wants Xander for some reason, she might turn her anger on you.'

‘What, you think she's going to attack me with a hatchet or something?'

‘Don't laugh. She might do. If she's determined to stop you saving Kitty's house. But it would be more her sort of speed to find something out about you and ruin your life.'

‘I've never done anything.'

‘Everyone's done something. Or if not you, someone in your family. You asked if Dad was a blackmailer – well, I'd definitely not put it past old Caro. So just keep your wits about you, that's all I'm saying.'

‘If she harms anyone in my family . . .' Jenna growled menacingly.

‘Thattagirl. Keep that snarl handy.'

On Sunday Kitty went out for the day with Jim. Jenna did some more work in the morning, then took the afternoon off to sunbathe and read in a secluded part of the garden, the only fly in the idyll being Barney's desire to lie right next to her, and preferably with his great heavy head resting on her stomach. He was growing increasingly devoted to the only person who regularly took him out for walks, and no degree of heat could dissuade him from pressing his hot furry body up against hers, if she ever descended to his level.

Eventually she was too hot and sticky to enjoy it any more, so she went in and had a hot and then a cold shower, put on the lightest cottons she had, and went to see about fixing herself a salad. She ate it, accompanied by a chilly glass of Chablis, on the terrace. It was quite nice to be alone for once, and she was just contemplating a spot of telly on the sofa when the phone rang.

It was Harry. ‘Are you alone?' he asked in a sepulchral voice.

Jenna snorted. ‘You sound like an ad for a dating agency.'

‘I'm serious. Are you alone in the house, or is Kitty there?'

‘No, she's out for the day.'

‘Or anyone else?'

‘I'm alone, Mr Smiley,' Jenna said patiently.

‘Good. I'm coming in.'

‘Where are you?'

‘Just outside.'

‘Right. Will I recognize you, or will you have one of your devilish disguises on?'

‘Ha-very-ha,' he said, and rang off.

In half a minute he was there, coming through the gate from the yard. He flung himself down on the seat next to her and said, ‘I left the car down the road, just in case there were any visitors.'

‘So what's all the cloak and daggery?' Jenna asked. ‘Are you being followed?'

‘I hope not,' he said seriously. ‘Boy, have I got news for you!'

‘Oh, is that programme on? I was just wondering what to watch tonight on TV. Glass of wine?'

‘Oh, why not,' he said, frustrated. ‘I can see I can't get you excited.'

‘Never stop trying,' she told him solemnly, and went to fetch the bottle from the fridge and another glass.

‘OK,' she said, when she had settled again, ‘what have you got to tell me? Is it about Sullivan staying in your flat?'

‘Yes, and I know who his visitor was. He left this morning so I was able to get in and retrieve the tapes this afternoon. I made you some stills – don't say I never give you anything. These are just from the security system.' He slapped a black-and-white print down in front of her. ‘Ta-ra!' he trumpeted triumphantly. ‘The camera never lies.'

Jenna picked it up and stared. It showed the back view and part profile of a silver-haired man holding open the front door to Harry's flat, but the person he was admitting was full-face. It was the usual grainy, poorly defined image you get from CCTV, but there was no mistaking that the man's female guest was Caroline Russell.

‘Wow,' Jenna said. ‘And yet, somehow I'm not surprised.' She looked up at Harry. ‘But this isn't incriminating. She could have called on him for any reason – anything from taking a message from your dad to collecting for the Salvation Army.'

‘There's more,' said Harry, slapping down number two. ‘He kisses her.'

‘That's just a social peck on the cheek. Everybody does that.'

‘He gives her a drink.' In number three, they were sitting on the sofa, each with a glass in hand and a wine bottle on the coffee table in front of them.

‘Just being polite,' she said.

‘They canoodle.' Silver Fox's arm was round Caroline, and they were kissing properly, on the lips.

‘Ah. That's a little harder to explain.'

‘Why bother?' said Harry, and slapped down the fifth picture. ‘Here they are going into the bedroom.'

Jenna was relieved to see it was the last. ‘Maybe he had something he wanted to show her,' she managed feebly.

‘Oh, he did,' said Harry.

‘Don't tell me you filmed in the bedroom as well!' Jenna exclaimed.

‘All right, I won't tell you,' said Harry, ‘but the film in there is much better quality than this CCTV stuff, proper movie film. I told you some of Dad's pals like to film themselves and sometimes Dad makes them copies.'

‘And did they – Sullivan and Caroline—?' Jenna didn't really want to ask, but she had to know.

Harry nodded. ‘The lot. In colour.'

‘Oh God. Poor Xander.'

‘Lucky Xander, I should have thought,' said Harry. ‘It's his perfect get-out. And if he doesn't want to get out – well, that girl's a bit of a goer. Amazing when you think how she presents herself to the world.'

‘You haven't watched it?' she said reproachfully.

‘Purely in the interests of research,' he assured her. ‘I closed my eyes a lot of the time. But this film is dynamite, you do realize that?'

‘I don't understand,' Jenna said. ‘If it's so dangerous to Sullivan, why would he take it?'

‘He didn't. There are two camera set-ups in the bedroom. One out in the open, for the punters, and another secret one for my dad's eyes only. I found it in the course of trying to set up exactly the same thing for myself. Obviously Dad likes to have a little something in reserve in case of necessity. I told you I was an electronics wiz, only I don't think you believed me.'

‘I'm sorry. I do now. But what on earth are we going to do?'

‘Oh, it's “we”, is it? You're on board now?'

‘Well, you've told me about it. I can't un-know it, can I?' She thought. ‘Won't your dad expect to take the film away?'

‘Of course. I told him I was going to be out tonight, so he'll be there now, retrieving it for his archive. But I've already made a copy.'

‘Cunning devil. To do what with?' A thought came to her. ‘You're not going to blackmail Derek Sullivan, are you? Because that's just a bit illegal, in case you didn't realize, and I couldn't have anything to do with it.'

He looked wounded. ‘What do you take me for? Anyway, there'd be no point taking money from him because it's my dad's money anyway. Quicker to ask the old man for the dosh direct. No, my idea is to take a few nice stills, show them to Caroline, and threaten to blow the gaff unless she cuts me in on the deal, whatever it is. I think she'll come across much more freely if she thinks I'm as rotten as her and trying to feather my own nest, rather than if I pose as a self-righteous crusader. And we want to know what's at the bottom of all this, don't we?'

‘We do. That's very cunning of you,' Jenna said. ‘I'm sure you're right. Unless—' The thought occurred to her. ‘Unless she's actually in love with this Sullivan guy, and doesn't know anything about the scheme, whatever it is.'

‘Funnily enough,' Harry said thoughtfully, ‘I think she
may
be in love with him. He's her usual uncle type, and she does seem – well – affectionate towards him in some parts of the film. Weird if she really was, eh? But you can't feel sorry for her,' he commanded, watching Jenna's face. ‘Whether she loves Sullivan or not, she's not letting go of Xander, is she?'

‘He's away. Maybe she'll break with him when he gets home.'

Harry shook his head at her naivety. ‘Well, if she doesn't, you can show him one of your pretty pictures. The snogging one, I suggest. But not until I've had time to play my hand, please. And if you think she was just there for the action, you should have seen how long and hard they talked before the canoodling started. And the expressions on their faces while they were talking were purely businesslike, I promise you. No, my big sis is in this up to her earrings, and now I've got the perfect way to make her cough it up.' He stood up. ‘I'd better go. Don't want to be here when Kitty gets back. Not a word about any of this to anyone, OK?'

‘Of course not,' she said, but rather dolefully. She didn't like secrets, and everything about this one was horrible.

He surprised her by leaning down and kissing her full on the lips. ‘Sorry,' he said as he straightened up. ‘Couldn't resist. You looked so woebegone, like a half-drowned kitten.'

She burst out laughing. ‘Your imagination! Anything less kitten-like than me . . .!'

‘I know, you see yourself as an Amazon,' he said cheerily. ‘But you forget I'm James Bond, licensed to thrill. Which makes you Pussy Galore.'

She laughed. ‘Oh, get out of here, you fool.'

‘I'll be in touch,' he said, and mimed pulling his collar up and his hat over his eyes as he slunk away down the terrace.

Unsurprisingly, Harry's visit and his revelations left Jenna feeling jumpy and unsettled. She watched television without being aware of anything on the screen, and then decided to go to bed early, because she didn't want to face Kitty like this and possibly give something away. She lay in bed unable to sleep, heard Kitty come home – there was a board outside her bedroom door that squeaked. She heard the owls calling back and forth across the gardens, and a terrible screeching bark which by now she knew was a fox. What a country girl you're becoming, she told herself ironically; and then thought that it was true, she was. She loved it here, loved Holtby House and the village and the people. It was like finding the serpent in Eden to discover that Caroline was two-timing Xander, and with a man who was himself married and two-timing his wife.

But was there more to it than that? She knew Harry was enjoying all the John le Carré stuff, but she hoped against hope that there was no plot, that he didn't find out anything more, that it was just a case of sexual attraction between people who were otherwise tied up. That was plain, everyday, understandable wrong – her own friend Izzy was engaged in it with Toby. And maybe, if that's all it was, Caroline was already planning to break it off with Xander when he came home from his buying trip. That would be bad enough: she imagined how shattered he would be to be betrayed and dumped again, after Stephanie. He might not get over that. He would probably pull back into his shell and never stick his head out again. But if there was a sinister plot involving her and Harry's dad and God knew who else in the neighbourhood . . .

She shivered, and got out of bed to go and shut the window. Outside, the gardens lay calm under the silvery light of the almost-full moon, the cedar tree still and cut out black against the sky, throwing an improbably sharp shadow across the grass. It looked unreal, like a theatre set; and when the owl called again a moment later, that sounded unreal, too.
Owls don't really say too-whit-too-woo except on bad radio plays
, she thought. Maybe nothing was real. Maybe she had dreamed it all. Or maybe she wasn't real either, and someone was dreaming her.

Suddenly her tension left her and she was desperately tired. She went back to bed, and fell heavily asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

She felt real enough when she woke up on Monday, still tired, and desperately hungry. That salad last night had had no staying power.

‘Did you have a nice time?' she asked Kitty when they met at breakfast. Mrs Phillips had done mushroom omelettes with fried tomatoes, and she had to stop herself wolfing, and made herself eat politely.

‘Lovely, thank you,' Kitty said. ‘It was very comfortable, knowing you were here taking care of things.' She looked at Jenna more closely. ‘You look tired. Your eyes especially. I think you've been on the computer too much lately. You ought to have a change of occupation.'

‘Well, that works, as it happens,' Jenna said, ‘because I think I ought to start rearranging the drawing room – taking stuff out and moving the furniture. A bit of physical work will make a nice change.'

‘You've decided finally what's going on display, then?' Kitty asked.

‘Decided? No, that's for you to do. But I've got my suggestions ready. I'll show it to you after breakfast and you can change anything you like. And then I'll start heaving things about.'

Kitty smiled. ‘You can take things out if you like, but I know Fatty means to do a deep clean in there before any final rearranging. Polish the floor, wash the windows, clean the carpet, wax the furniture and so on. And that marble fireplace will take some cleaning – all those swags and bunches of grapes and cherubs' wings.'

‘I'll help her,' Jenna said.

‘She won't let you,' Kitty warned.

‘She's going to have to learn not to be so possessive of her dirt,' Jenna decreed. ‘Anyway, I'll tell her my broken heart is aching and I need to scrub. Cleaning things is wonderfully therapeutic.'