Love Is... (17 page)

We marched off hand in hand and laughing, until we realised we were on a remote ranch, with no means of transport and that our flight wasn't until the next morning. Elspeth was at the ranch exit when we approached. It was hard to tell whether she'd heard the commotion, or if she'd had truth beads wired up to the tepee, or if she was just familiar with such an occurrence, but she seemed to understand.

‘Don't go tonight,' she said. ‘Stay, have a good meal and a decent night's sleep, then you can head off in the morning. The transport will be here at 10 a.m.' Her eyes were almost pleading with us. ‘Ernest won't bother you, I promise.'

Immediately, I envisaged Ernest sneaking into our tent and prodding us with a paddle whip in the middle of the night.

Nick and I looked at each other. Nick shrugged his shoulders.

‘All right,' he said. ‘What's for dinner?'

The dinner bell sounded at 7 p.m. and Nick and I darted into the dining hall with our heads down and our eyes fixed on the buffet. After an afternoon spent discovering my deepest
fears, which I now knew to be Ernest determining the future of romantic love, I was ravenous again. It seemed Nick and I had consumed our ration of ranch meat at lunch, and instead of endless racks of ribs and giant slabs of steak, we were offered couscous, quinoa and chargrilled Mediterranean vegetables. I found something resembling chicken tagine so I heaped some spoonfuls onto my plate, grabbed some bread and then followed Nick out into the ranch grounds.

The sun was setting so he suggested we salvage some romance from our weekend with a picnic under the stars. He'd laid out a blanket on a grassy mound overlooking the paddocks and the fields beyond. The horizon seemed so far away. From such a perspective, it was easy to understand how people had once so readily believed the earth was flat.

Nick rummaged in his bag. I heard a familiar clink and then he revealed two bottles of wine. ‘Ta-da,' he said.

I laughed. ‘Banned substances. Naughty you.'

He grinned. ‘Thought you might need something to forget that leg rub you had earlier.'

I screwed up my face, recalling the moment my toes had accidentally gripped Ernest's genitals.

‘Pour me a glass now,' I said, grabbing a plastic tumbler from his hand.

A few glasses in and I was already starting to feel better. Nick and I were lying on the blanket and looking up at the stars. I could hear the group's post-prandial sing-song in the distance. Ernest had a guitar and for the past hour had been keenly demonstrating his repertoire of country and westerns. Although, perhaps Dolly Parton's ‘Jolene' wasn't the ideal choice for his vocal range.

During a brief interval, I sat up and refilled my glass. I
took a long sip and then stared up at the sky. ‘Maybe
wine
is the answer to a lasting marriage?' I mused out loud.

Nick chuckled. ‘Of course,' he said, sitting up and mimicking Ernest. ‘The extensive research I've conducted…' he paused to fondle his groin ‘… proves that drinking alcohol…' he rubbed his hands over his body ‘…is the best intimacy-enhancing activity a couple can undertake.' He shuffled closer to me, then unzipped his trousers and pulled out his willy. ‘Don't be scared, Eleanor. Don't be fearful of the penis. Embrace it.' He moved closer, grinning and then shook his hair and let out an orgasmic sigh.

I laughed. ‘Put it away,' I said. Then I thought for a moment. ‘So, if we get drunk together, it will enhance our intimacy and we'll stay together. If you get drunk without me, you might end up running off with that hotty you work with.'

Nick zipped up his trousers and then sighed. ‘I'm not running off with anyone, Ellie. I don't want a supermodel with a Harvard degree. I want you.'

I took another sip of wine. ‘Good job I'm not that then, isn't it?'

Nick rolled his eyes. ‘That's not what I meant.' He leaned across and took my hand. ‘You are so much more to me, Ellie, and you always will be. Even when you're old and wrinkly, with a colostomy bag.'

I slapped him on the chest. ‘Who says I'll be the one with the colostomy bag?'

‘All that white bread you eat. It's not good for you.'

‘Oh, shut up. You'll be the one in line for a liver transplant, looking like a corn-fed chicken and pooing on the care-home carpet.'

He laughed, went to take another sip but then stopped.
‘How about we stop fretting about the future and enjoy now?' He held his glass up towards mine.

I chinked his glass.

Nick leaned forward and kissed me. Then he suddenly pulled back, with a mischievous glint in his eye.

‘You up for a bit of naughtiness?'

I smiled. ‘What, out here on the blanket?'

He laughed. ‘No, not that.' Then he paused for a moment and looked me up and down. ‘Later though, hold that thought. Definitely later.' He glanced back towards the ranch house, then back at me. I could tell he was hatching a plan.

‘You know
The Italian Job,
' he said.

I sighed. ‘Yes, of course I do. You've made me watch it a hundred thousand times since we met.'

He looked up at the stars and then back down at me. ‘I've made you watch
The Italian Job
thirty times a day? Really?'

I rolled my eyes. ‘Why do you always do that?'

He grinned. ‘Why do you always exaggerate for effect? Anyway, if they can steal thirty-five million dollars' worth of gold bullion from a group of Italian gangsters, then surely we can retrieve our confiscated phones from Elspeth's safe?'

‘I'm not sure a couples' retreat in Texas is an appropriate setting for a heist,' I said. ‘Besides, surely it's simpler to just ask for our phones back instead.'

Nick puffed out his chest, assuming his desired leading character, which seemed more Vinnie Jones than Michael Caine. ‘Those motherfuckers stole my phone. I want it back,' he said.

I laughed.

He sat up, looked at the ranch house and then back at me. ‘OK, here's the plan.'

Once Nick had described a sophisticated safe-cracking
technique he'd seen in a recent Jason Statham movie, I thought for a moment. Elspeth seemed to be the kind of woman who would have a procedure documented for everything, maybe including how to open the safe.

‘I think there might be another way,' I said.

Nick frowned, looking slightly concerned that my plan might not involve a balaclava and a zip cord.

Once we had agreed our strategy, we quickly finished off the second bottle of wine, rolled up our blanket and then made our way back to our tent. The flaps had been rolled back, as though inviting entry. I immediately envisaged Ernest taking care of this personally, caressing them as though they were labia. Inside, the bed had been turned down for the night, and some honesty beads had been left on the pillow.

Nick saw them and put his hand over my mouth and looked at me.

‘I'm sure tired,' he said, adopting a bizarre faux American accent. ‘Let's get a good night's sleep before we head back tomorrow.'

I stifled my giggles. ‘Yes, Nicholas, I'm sure tired too. Sleep tight.'

Nick grabbed the beads and threw them out the tent opening. Then we snuck out and stealthily made our way to the ranch house. It was dark now and the campfire sing-song had died down. There were just a few guests—Walter, Doug and Tom—still sitting around the dwindling fire. Ernest and Elspeth were nowhere to be seen.

Nick and I snuck around to the side entrance. The door was still open so we crept into the kitchen. We could hear people talking a few rooms away. Nick told me to wait as
he went ahead to locate the office. He returned a few moments later and ushered me towards him.

‘This way,' he whispered.

We crept down a corridor, passing a door which was ajar. I peered through the crack to see Ernest with his arm around someone. I looked closer. It was Chloe. She looked as though she had been crying.

‘There, there,' I heard him say, ‘you'll find someone to love you, don't worry, my angel.'

He was stroking her arm, his fingertips brushing her breast. She leaned in towards him and sobbed. He squeezed her tight, his other hand edging down her back. The bulge in his leather trousers looked bigger than earlier.

Nick tugged my arm. ‘Come on,' he mouthed.

I followed Nick into the office and began scan-reading the names of the files lined up neatly on a shelf above the computer.

‘“Procedures”, that's it,' I said, a little too excitedly.

Nick put his finger to my lips.

We flicked through the file. There seemed to be a procedure for everything: to greet guests, retune honesty beads, even how to turn down beds. As I'd suspected, Ernest's name was written next to that job. Soon we came to a procedure entitled ‘Contraband'. I quickly read through it, while Nick peered around the door to make sure no one was coming.

‘Found it!' I said.

Nick swung round and glared at me. ‘Shhh,' he said.

‘I've got the safe code,' I whispered. ‘Now, where's the safe?'

Nick glanced around the room.

‘Doesn't it say in there?' He gestured to the file.

I looked back down to check I hadn't missed anything. ‘Nope,' I said.

Nick looked around the room again, then focused on an oil painting on the wall. It was of a naked lady sprawled across a sofa. She had a large crop of pubic hair and looked a lot like Elspeth.

‘I bet it's behind here,' Nick whispered, smirking. He pushed the painting to one side, revealing a safe behind it.

Nick punched in the code and I checked no one was coming. I could still hear Chloe's faint sobs coming from the other room.

Nick handed me my phone and pocketed his. He then rubbed his hands on his jeans as though he'd touched something nasty.

‘What else is in there?' I asked, switching my phone on.

He shook his head. ‘You don't want to know,' he said. Then he pushed the tip of something pink and rubbery back into the safe.

We crept back down the corridor and my phone began to buzz. I glanced at the screen to see text message after text message coming through. It was Matthew.

Nick snatched my phone and switched it off. ‘You'll get us caught,' he said, in not so much of a whisper.

‘It's Matthew,' I mouthed.

He glared at me. ‘Let's get out of here first,' he said, dragging me down the corridor.

I pulled him back and pointed to the door that was ajar. I could still hear voices. I peered in. Now Ernest was almost on top of Chloe. Her jumper was pulled up and he had his hand between her legs.

Nick tugged my arm again.

‘Wait,' I said pulling him back towards the door. ‘Look.'

Nick peered in. His eyes narrowed and his jaw tensed. He glanced back at me as if to glean permission.

I nodded.

Then Nick kicked open the door. Ernest jumped up, looking startled. Chloe, still sobbing, pulled down her jumper.

‘What are you doing?' Nick said, pulling Ernest up from the sofa, by his belt.

Ernest's eyes widened. ‘She was upset,' he stammered.

Nick threw him back down on the sofa.

I stepped forward. ‘Upset because you ruined her relationship. She came here happy and newly married and you've messed it all up.'

Ernest stared at me.

‘You're supposed to be helping people—' I looked at Chloe, who was wiping the tears from her cheeks ‘—not destroying their relationships and taking advantage of them.'

For a moment Ernest was silent, then he cleared his throat. ‘She's in a stage of healing. She'll be stronger for it.'

‘What's going on?' Elspeth said, entering the room. She looked at me and Nick, then back at Ernest. ‘Are these guests trespassing in our ranch house?'

Ernest nodded.

I stared at her. ‘We are saving a young girl from being penetrated by your priapic husband.'

Elspeth narrowed her eyes at me. ‘Defensiveness will not prevent your fears from being realised, my dear.'

I frowned. ‘What's that supposed to mean?'

Elspeth looked at Chloe. ‘She's a young, desirable girl. Men cannot and should not resist their urges.' Then she turned to Nick. ‘And the reason Nick's so angry is because he would like to do the same.'

Nick laughed. ‘Seriously? I don't think so.'

She reached out and squeezed Nick's arm. ‘You can't deny your drives, Nicholas. You'll end up angry and repressed.'

Nick laughed again. Then looked at Chloe. ‘No offence, Chloe, but I have no interest in having sex with you.' He looked back at Ernest. ‘What's wrong with you?'

Ernest stood up to meet Nick's height, the enhanced bulge still present in his trousers. ‘You're the one who came here for my help. Perhaps that question should be redirected to you?'

Nick stopped laughing, then winked at me before swinging a punch up towards Ernest's jaw.

Elspeth gasped and Chloe grinned as Ernest's eyes rolled back and he crumpled to the ground, limp and flaccid.

Outside the ranch house, while Nick and I were deciding our best means of escape, I heard the rumbling of an engine in the distance. It sounded like one of those sit-on lawnmowers, or a turbo hedge-trimmer. While I was wondering why a landscape gardener would choose to conduct his work at midnight on a Saturday, the noise became increasingly louder. It appeared to be coming up the driveway. I squinted my eyes as a cloud of orange dust, seemingly emanating from a large motorised sweetcorn, sped towards the ranch.

Nick stepped forwards for a closer look.

Suddenly the horn sounded. It was quite high-pitched, like a mallard's mating call, and quickly followed by someone shouting and waving their arm frantically out the window.

‘Ellie! Ellie!'

Nick frowned. ‘Is that…?'