Only the Cat Knows (18 page)

‘Thanks, but no thanks.’ I gave the expected little laugh. ‘Actually —’ I fell back on what seemed to be the standard excuse around here — ‘I have a bit of a headache. Not to mention a touch of writer’s cramp. I’d appreciate the chance to catch up on my rest.’

‘That’s settled then.’ She was pleased. Had she expected more of a protest? ‘You just take it easy today. You’ve worked so hard you deserve a day off. See you in the morning.’ She rang off.

In the morning?
Which one of us wasn’t expected at dinner tonight?

As for the rest of the day:
take it easy — Hah!
I had my full maintenance routine to catch up with.

I slept so late the next morning that I found my fruit and muesli breakfast tray had been joined by another tray filled with a well-wrapped and extensive selection of sandwiches — a clear indication that I was not expected to appear in the Staff Canteen for lunch.

I considered what might happen if I were to appear in Everett Oversall’s office instead. The idea was tempting, but I was fairly certain that I would be intercepted before I got anywhere near Oversall. They would be expecting a move like that. But there were more promising leads I wanted to investigate first.

I poured the milk into the muesli and the coffee cream into the cat’s bowl. Then, in response to her imperious look, I prised apart some of the dainty crustless triangles that had been supplied for lunch and, perhaps, dinner.

The cat had been in a strange mood earlier, but was happily grazing through the prawn cocktail, egg-and-cress, roast beef, tuna-and-sweetcorn, and chicken salad by the time I was ready to leave.

‘I’m just popping round to see Madame.’ For a moment, I felt this proved they were succeeding in driving me mad. Discussing my plans with the cat like that.

But she raised her head and gave me what seemed to be an approving look as she clawed aside an almost transparent slice of cucumber to get at the smoked salmon beneath it, leaving me to wonder whether she had actually understood what I had told her.

T shouldn’t be long.’ I slipped out and locked the door securely behind me.

The late afternoon was mild, but damp, grey and foggy. Not actually raining — that was a bonus. I had almost reached Madame’s cottage when I realized I was being followed.

Not very subtly, either. There was a rustling, brushing noise behind me. I turned to find a dispirited peacock dragging his folded clump of tail feathers along the path. He stared at me bleakly, waiting to see what I was going to do.

‘You must be Petruchio.’ It was an easy guess; he had made no move to challenge me, as Percy would have done. He hadn’t been very aptly named.

‘What’s the matter, fella? Life getting you down?’ Then I heard why.

‘Petruchio …? Petruchio …?’ Nina’s voice called seductively. ‘Where are you?’

I nearly tripped over him as we both dived for the shelter of the boxwood hedge. Once we were cowering behind it, he shot me a look of unmistakable complicity. We were companions in adversity.

‘Petruchio …? Where are you?’ Footsteps crunched past on the gravel path. ‘I have a lovely handful of corn for you … Come to Nina.’

Not bloody likely!
We hunched down until the footsteps and the insistent voice faded away.

‘That was close.’ I was talking to the fauna again, but no longer felt awkward about it as he blinked in distinct agreement before creeping back on to the path and heading in the opposite direction.

‘Mind how you go,’ I advised. ‘And if I run into her, I’ll keep her busy until you have time to get clear.’

Another acknowledging blink and he made off through the shrubbery and vanished.

Being in no hurry to encounter Nina myself, I slowed down and kept a wary lookout.

The path ahead was clear; no sight nor sound of Nina. Nor of anyone else. Good.

Then the hairs on the back of my neck prickled and I froze halfway down the path to the cottage as the faint strains of music reached my ears.

But it was all right. Nothing monkish, not even vaguely liturgical. I started forward again. Just a good honest classical concerto, soothing background music for an afternoon nap, perhaps. I hoped Madame wouldn’t be in too bad a mood if I disturbed her.

I tapped on the door and it swung open. I hesitated only a moment before stepping inside; it wouldn’t do to be caught lurking on the doorstep.

This time I was willing to follow the music — into the dark parlour where Madame lay motionless on her chaise longue, a cashmere throw covering her.

Was she too still? I could discern no sign of breathing. The sense of desolation that swept over me surprised me. It was not just that she might have taken the key to Nessa’s life here with her — I had been growing genuinely fond of the old girl.

I stood there, indecisive and helpless, looking down at her. Should I charge through the cottage shouting for Richie? Should I ring Monica and tell her to call Anderson? Should I —?

I became aware that her eyes had opened and she was staring back at me.

‘So, Vanessa,’ she breathed. ‘I have been expecting you. You are late.’

‘Are you all right?’ I asked. ‘Really all right?’

‘Why should I not be?’ She was irritated. ‘What do you think I —e?’

‘Madame —’ I knelt beside her, my face close to hers. She almost smiled.

‘Ah, yes, we are Old Souls, you and I, Vanessa. Older than Lilith … older than Cain …’

‘Madame —?’ Was she rambling? That was all I needed.

‘What the hell are
you
doing here?’ Richie was back — if he had ever been away.

‘She gets in everywhere!’ Shadow was with him, staring at me with utter loathing.

Nessa, Nessa, what did you ever do to him?

‘Madame is too tired for visitors today,’ Richie said. ‘You’d better leave.’

‘I will decide —’ Madame began.

‘
Now!
’ Richie was at my side, looming over me ominously.

I stumbled to my feet before he could drag me to them ignominiously.

‘I’ll take her back where she belongs.’ Shadow was glowering at me, he looked as though he’d enjoy yanking me to the door and frogmarching me out of there.

Whatever happened to chivalry?

‘Vanessa is my guest —’ Madame tried again, but she was outnumbered. Against Richie or Shadow alone, she might have prevailed, but united they were going to win.

For the moment
, the dangerous flash of her eyes threatened.

‘This isn’t one of your better days,’ Richie insisted.

‘Vanessa has other things to do right now.’ Shadow crowded closer, one hand reaching out for my upper arm. A grim satisfaction appeared in his eyes as I shrank away.

He thought I was afraid of him. He wasn’t to know it was because I didn’t want that domineering hand to discover a stronger muscular structure than Nessa possessed.

‘Another time, Vanessa,’ Madame promised. ‘We will speak again — when there is no one to disturb us.’

‘That’s right, Madame.’ Richie gently rearranged her cashmere throw. ‘Plenty of time. Vanessa will come again.’

But not if they had anything to say about it
. I could almost hear the clang of iron bars closing around Madame.

‘Come on!’ Shadow opened the door and crowded me through, not quite touching me, but with his constant slow advance forcing me forward to avoid it.

‘Shouldn’t you be looking after Mr Oversall?’ I snapped.

‘There’s more than one way of looking after him,’ he said. Keeping me out of the way was clearly one of them.

‘Why don’t you like me?’ I didn’t expect an honest answer, but it was worth trying.

‘Why should I? Does everyone have to like you?’

‘It would help.’

‘So you think you need help, do you?’ He edged closer. I moved away. ‘You may be right.’

The sudden darkness of the long grey November night had engulfed the world while I was in the cottage. There were no lights along the paths. In the distance, I heard a dog bark.

How long would it take Bud to get here if I screamed?

‘Do I? I don’t know.’ I kept my voice even, but increased speed. Unobtrusively, I hoped. ‘I can’t remember anything.’

‘No?’ He was disbelieving. ‘You think you’re so bloody clever! You —’ He broke off, choking on his hatred.

The far end of the cloister was just discernible. I broke into a sprint, hauling up the hem of the kaftan and without looking back. I didn’t know what Shadow’s problem was, but he wasn’t going to take it out on me. Not here, not now, in the darkness with no witnesses.

‘Damn you!’ He caught up with me at the cell. For a moment he pinned me against the bars. Neither of us gave even a fleeting glance inside.

‘Pushing your way in here! Sneaking around where you’re not wanted! Get out! Go back where you came from!’

‘I might,’ I said. ‘If I could remember where that was.’

‘You -!’ His face, mottled with a rage that was almost out of control, was too close to mine. His hand swung out
to slap, then clenched into a fist, then fell to his side. ‘You —! Mother —’

I waited for the remaining two syllables, trying to decide whether I should register shock, outrage or disdain.

In the event, they didn’t come. He looked beyond me, bit down on what he had been going to say, and moved back.

‘Just go!’ he snarled. ‘Anywhere! Leave! Disappear!’ He stepped farther back and followed his own advice. Abruptly, he was gone.

I turned to walk the remaining length of the cloister and saw why Shadow had left so suddenly. There was a witness waiting at my door, watching my approach. My unlikely saviour.

Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea
.

Not that the most optimistic would call Ivor deep, but he was marginally better than Shadow. At least I had some inkling of what he wanted.

He watched me for a long moment before obviously deciding that it would be politic to come to meet me. Or perhaps he was afraid I might get away.

‘I was beginning to think you weren’t home,’ he said.

‘I wasn’t.’

‘But you are now.’ He watched greedily as I unlocked the door and moved in closer. I wasn’t going to get an opportunity to slip inside and close the door in his face.

‘And now we can have our little talk,’ he said.

Must we?
But I had to do it sometime and the events of the day so far had put me in a nasty mood. Just right for dealing with Ivor. Silently, I allowed him to follow me inside.

The cat came to greet me, took one look at Ivor and walked away again.
I know the feeling, Duchess
.

‘There’s something different about this place,’ he declared, looking around. That ham-actor note was back in his voice. ‘Now, what can it be?’

‘Everything is just the way it was when I got back from the hospital,’ I said.

‘No. No … something’s missing.’ He frowned.

I waited.

‘I know!’ He tried to look triumphant, but succeeded in looking shifty. ‘You used to have a big silver-framed picture of me on your desk.’

‘Really?’
The hell I had
.

‘Perhaps someone tidied it away while you were gone. Put it in one of the drawers …’ But the drawer he started to open was much too small to contain a framed picture — it had obviously been intended for stamps and sealing wax.

‘There’s no picture in there!’ I reached over and slammed the drawer shut before he had it fully open. ‘There’s no picture of you anywhere here. Believe me, I’d have noticed.’

‘Of course you would.’ He smirked, taking it as a compliment. ‘Never mind, I’ll give you another.’

‘Don’t bother!’ He was getting on my nerves even more than usual. I certainly didn’t want any reminders of him when he wasn’t actually present — and I was sure Nessa didn’t, either.

‘Oh, it’s no bother.’ He tried to move closer, but I moved first and settled myself in the armchair farthest from the sofa, leaving that for him.

‘Why don’t you come and sit over here?’ He patted the place beside him in what he seemed to consider an inviting manner.

‘I’m fine here.’ It was an offer easy to refuse.

‘But we always used to sit together here,’ he pouted. ‘With the lights low … It might help you to remember.’

‘Sorry, but I’m afraid you’re still a complete stranger to me. I don’t even know what you do around here.’

‘Ah, well … I don’t want to boast but …’ He shot a glance at me to see how I was taking this outbreak of modesty.

With about a kilo of salt
. ‘But…?’ I encouraged.

‘You might call me a talent scout. I maintain an overview of everyone coming up in our various fields of interest and
work to acquire the brightest and best candidates for positions we have open.’ He spoke too glibly and avoided my eyes.

‘And does that entail hiring them away from other firms?’ I was beginning to get the picture: it was the purest form of industrial espionage. No creeping around photocopying secret formulas or hacking into rival computer files, just hire one of the head honchos away from your competitor and he’ll arrive quite legally with all the relevant information stored in his brain.

‘Possibly … occasionally … if necessary …’ He sent me a melting look. ‘You’re one of my notable successes, you know. In more ways than one.’

‘Really?’ I ignored the insinuation. ‘Where did you hire me from?’

‘Quite an important firm of financial advisers — the name would mean nothing to you … the way you are now.’

And obviously the way I was expected to remain — if he thought he could get away with that. Nessa’s last job had been designing costumes for a new production of
Love’s Labour’s Lost
. How she had moved from there to here, I didn’t know, but I was quite sure that Ivor had had nothing to do with it.

‘We grew close as I mentored you into your new position here.’ The lies continued as he rose and came towards me. ‘
Very
close …’

The abrupt pounding on the door knocked him offstride. He halted, throwing a confused look at the door and then at me. ‘Are you expecting anyone?’

I shrugged. So far as I was concerned, it was the cavalry appearing on the horizon, the Marines storming over the hill with all bugles blowing — rescue! I dashed to open the door.