Hide in Time (3 page)

“But,” oh no, she’d
started on the ‘buts’ herself now, “but he has an
appreciation and healthy respect of other people’s lifestyles
too. Most men like gadgets.”

“I would always feel like a
visitor to his life.” Xandra laughed gently as she added, “I
already feel like a visitor to my own world; to take on his too would
derail me.”

Derail? This train wouldn’t stop
till it reached vanishing point. Laura knew that such a thought could
not be voiced. “Vanishing” was a frightening concept.

Hide in Time ~ Anna Faversham

Parson Emmanuel Raffles was often
called to comfort the bereaved; he was known for cheering the
inconsolable, easing the pain of loss, and giving hope for the
future. Today, though, he knew that all his experience in these
matters counted for nothing.

His dear friend, Adam Leigh-Fox, had
just lost the only girl he had ever loved. So young too. Thus it was
with ponderous footsteps he sought Adam in the rose garden planted in
remembrance of Adam’s mother. There, in the far corner, he
found him seated on a wrought iron bench. Hunched would be a better
word, he thought as he padded silently along the path.

“Johnson told me I’d likely
find you here.” Adam straightened himself. “Don’t
get up, my good friend, just shuffle along a little and make room for
my slender self.”

Adam managed a wry smile though he
continued to stare at a blade of grass. “There are many
good-hearted words one might use to describe you, Raffles, but
slender is not one of them. You may recall that unfortunate orphaned
girl you nearly catapulted off a similar bench just last year?”

“How could I forget?”
Pastor Raffles chuckled softly at the memory. “I was grateful
you were there to put your foot on her end of the bench and bring her
back to terra firma.”

“And so, I am sure, was she.”
Adam shifted on the bench, making just enough room for his friend. “I
think I will hold my ground better than she did.”

The mood was slightly lighter, even so,
Raffles joined Adam in staring at the ground. Focusing on an ant
unsuccessfully struggling to move a dead insect, he became aware that
Adam, too, was watching as the ant scurried off to return shortly
with several helpers. Together they pushed and pulled the body
assuredly towards their unseen nest. Succour for all.

The thought came to Raffles that God
speaks in many ways. He decided against voicing it for, and there was
no doubt about this at all, if God was speaking to anyone, it was to
Adam not him. Furthermore, he scratched his head at this point, what
exactly was God saying?

Striding across the rose garden, not
following the pathways, Adam’s elder brother, John, known to
the family as Jack, swore as his jacket caught on an overgrown bush.
“I suppose you’ll say…” and here he assumed
a whine, “We’ve no money to pay for gardeners –
you’ve spent it all.” He stomped closer to the two
friends and stood firmly in front of them. “I’ve remedied
that situation: I’ve sold mother’s jewellery.”

Raffles put a restraining hand on
Adam’s arm.

Adam reluctantly settled back on the
seat and stared at his brother. “Is that what you’ve come
to tell us?”

“Of course not! I’m just
informing you. I want to know where the key to the drawing room is
and why it is locked.”

Raffles knew his presence protected the
wily Jack from Adam’s wrath. Righteous wrath.

Neither Adam nor Raffles replied.

Jack repeated his question but still
received no answer. “You pack rat, squirreling our assets away.
Why can’t you see?” He paused, as if deliberating how to
deliver his next words for maximum effect. “You’ve no
future now anyway. She’s gone. For ever.” He turned and
strutted away. Yelling over his shoulder he crowed, “Nearly a
week has gone by. She won’t be found.”

Raffles sighed in his most exaggerated
fashion. “Pack rat squirreling. Huh!”

Ignoring Raffles’ attempt to mock
Jack, Adam said, “He’s right, of course, I know she won’t
be found alive now. Yet moments before you arrived, I felt as though
she were here, with me.”

“A comfort?”

Adam nodded. “Yes, a silent,
unintrusive comfort.” He returned to staring at the ground.
“He’s squashed those resourceful ants.”

Satan had slithered into the garden of
Eden: Jack had stormed into this one. They both destroyed. Something
should be done.

Hide in Time ~ Anna Faversham

A Pirates’ Party. Yes, that would
be the thing. Laura picked up the diary on her desk to look for a
suitable date. Hire the paddle steamer, steam up the river,
top-of-the-range buffet and a live band. That would be a good way to
celebrate. Not everyone would want to dress up, of course, but there
was scope for fetching outfits. She’d have to think of a better
word than fetching. Perhaps sexy would be the contemporary word?
Anyway, the men might look authentic in bandannas and stripey shirts
and the ladies could be flirty molls or captured princesses. Yes,
this could work.

So absorbed was Laura that she nearly
forgot she was supposed to be giving blood in the mobile unit at the
bottom of the hill. She raced out of the office. She was a rare blood
group; well, fairly rare; enough for them to request she came
regularly. Until quite recently, women with the Rhesus A negative
blood group used to have complications in childbirth, she’d
been told. They had usually only had the one child successfully. It
was a New Zealand doctor who’d made the breakthrough – or
was it? She’d forgotten. There’d been so much to learn.
Anyway, if she had children now, they’d be all right, that’s
what she’d been assured. Donating blood took an hour of her
time but it was a great way to show her gratitude.

On her return, Laura became
increasingly enthusiastic about the party, drawing up plans for the
skull and crossbones to fly from the aft deck, and searching the
Internet for pirate paraphernalia. It flashed through her mind how
Matt had tried to explain how it worked, nearly five years ago now.
He’d drawn a diagram showing how all these boxes linked up and
she – she could never think of this without blushing –
she had had got down on her hands and knees and tried to follow the
wiring.

But oh how she loved the Internet;
she’d love to thank Tim Berners Lee personally. She knew she
couldn’t but she was glad he’d been knighted. Knighted!
And he’d probably never even been on a horse. She hadn’t
noticed the time or even the darkening sky and that she’d not
put the lights on in the office.

Then she remembered she was now late to
meet Xandra. It had been a relief to return to the work of the agency
and nearly a whole day had passed without Xandra infiltrating her
thoughts. Infiltrate. Why had she used such a word? The street door
buzzer alerted her to a visitor. “Xandra? Is that you?”
she said through the intercom.

“Yes.”

Laura smiled; Xandra used only
sufficient words to convey a situation, she saw no need for, now what
were they called? Adjacents and verb additions. No, that wasn’t
right. Additional embellishments, that would have to do. As Xandra
entered the office, casually dressed in jeans and a loose top, Laura
burst into a volley of apologies, “I’m so sorry; I was
engrossed in plans for the forthcoming party, I haven’t even
put the lights on. Do forgive me, I’ll just shut this down.”
She whizzed the mouse around and watched the screen change. So
clever.

“Party?”

“Yes, to celebrate the agency’s
birthday. I give one every year.” Laura enthused about pirates,
booty and treasure trove. “I even have a trunk that might serve
as a prop. We could fill it with your diamonds, and gold jewellery,
Xandra; what do you think?”

Xandra visibly relaxed and playfully
objected. As the computer turned itself off it left the office in
semi-darkness and Xandra glanced out of the window. “Laura,
something odd is happening across the road at Cornell’s.”

Laura hurried over and watched with
growing alarm. Three men in baseball caps with dark, hooded T shirts
over the top, were hurrying towards the recessed doorway of the
jewellers apparently checking no one was around or watching them.
They failed to raise their eyes above street level, perhaps to avoid
any CCTV cameras.

Xandra took a deep breath, exhaled,
then snapped, “Stay here, Laura. Call the police.”

Laura seized the phone, punched in 999
then intermittently gave answers. “Police. Archangel Hill.
Robbery. Cornell’s.” Xandra’s commanding style was
catching and just what was needed at this point. The Police Station
was not more than a few minutes away, thank God, for Xandra had
already gone.

Laura shot back to the window again in
time to see Xandra position herself in line with an axe-wielding man;
behind him was a man with a bat. They had all donned balaclavas. The
man with the axe had barely lifted it with his right hand before
Xandra grabbed his wrist. As she shoved it behind him, the man
yowled. Pain forced him forwards and Xandra niftily swiped his feet
from under him with her foot. He fell on his face, dropping the axe.
Xandra grabbed it and flung it towards the agency doorway.

Laura was amazed. An axe! Was it for
smashing the interior display cabinets? They surely weren’t
hoping to smash their way through the metal shutters and toughened
glass? She gasped when she saw something Xandra could not. There was
another man inside the jewellers and he was heading towards the door.

A shout drew her eye back to Xandra .
The man on the ground was clutching his groin, rolling in agony, and
Xandra wrenched off his balaclava. The robber with the bat had lost
his balance as his accomplice fell on him but he soon regained his
control. Undeterred by the frightening balaclavas and weaponry,
Xandra faced the man with the bat as he lunged at her. She
sidestepped and blocked his arm. Her other arm slipped around his
waist as she turned her back on him. Yanking him over her hip, she
kicked back and down he went too. Laura could not believe her eyes –
how could Xandra do this? It had happened in a flash. As the man
tried to stand, a well-aimed stamp and a triumphant shout kept him
down while she whisked off his balaclava.

Shocked, Laura watched through her
opened window as the man already in the shop yanked the third man
through the door with Xandra shouldering her way in after.

Only in films had Laura seen so much
happen in so little time. The man who’d been let into the shop
was now propelled into the toughened glass door. There was a crack as
his head hit the pane and he staggered out and swayed up the hill
after his two scarpering accomplices heading for a hatchback revving
up.

Sirens heralded the arrival of the
police. The leading squad car skidded to a halt outside the
jewellers. Three brawny policemen leapt from the car to the doorway
and hurled themselves through the closing door.

“Ambulance, call for an
ambulance,” yelled one from inside to those arriving in the
second car.

Laura’s head finally moved her
rooted body. She hurtled down the stairs and out into the street
straight into one of the policemen who’d been alerted by the
noise of her thundering footsteps.

“Xandra! Is she injured? Please
let me see her.”

Xandra was trying to direct the police
to follow the escaped robbers. Limping and with blood pouring from
her leg, she called out, “I’m fine, Laura. It looks a lot
worse than it is.”

Typical, Laura thought. Bleeding all
over the place and what does she do? Reassures me.

“I’m afraid I met my match
and between us we smashed a glass cabinet. I seem to have come off
worse and he seems to have disappeared.” Xandra looked around
her. “Must have got out the same mysterious way he got in.”

“Ambulance is on its way, Miss;
won’t be long. Let’s see if we can stem the flow…
could be an artery..”

Laura knew nothing, absolutely nothing
about medical matters. Veins, arteries – what was the
difference? Her education had not covered such things; how could it?
She reasoned the best way to help was to rush back to her office,
shut and bolt her window, snatch both their handbags, lock the doors,
and return to the street.

The ambulance arrived quickly and
whisked Xandra away. Laura was allowed to follow in the police car
accompanying it.

~

At the hospital Xandra was hurried past
the waiting queue.

It was about an hour later when a nurse
called out Laura’s name. “I understand you have Xandra
Radcliffe’s handbag?”

“Yes, that’s right,”
Laura said, holding up the brown leather bag.

“We’re going to keep her in
overnight as we’ve given her a tetanus injection and a
transfusion.”

“A transfusion? Has she lost that
much blood?”

The nurse raised her eyebrows
indicating she did not feel she should have to justify their
treatment of Xandra. “Sufficient.”

“May I see her?” Laura
asked.

“Not now, it’s quite late
and she’s giving the police a statement. We’ve removed
all the splinters of glass and she’s had stitches. She needs a
peaceful recovery time so we’ll make her comfortable for the
night. She tells me she has no one to inform who lives close other
than you. Telephone us tomorrow morning and we should be able to
discharge her then.”

Bossy woman; and whatever was a
‘tetnis’ injection?

~

“It’s so good of you to
collect me,” Xandra said to Laura as she hobbled towards her in
reception the following morning. “I could have ordered a taxi,
of course, but I’m a little nervous. The police have contacted
me this morning and are arranging protection. They think it’s a
repeat performance of a recent robbery in Three Beeches, possibly
stealing to order. I’ve given a description of the two whose
balaclavas I pulled off.”