by Alys West
“Nice guy, Hal. Dependable.”
“Very. But Jenna tells me his girlfriend’s coming next weekend.”
“He’s got a girlfriend, has he?” As Andrew turned to look across the room, Hal strummed the opening chords and then Jenna’s fiddle picked up the melody. Andrew’s hand fell back to his side and Zoe hastily took the final step down onto the wooden floor.
“Nice chatting to you, Mr Stewart. I must go and find my boyfriend. He’s looking for me.”
“Call me Andrew.” His hand dropped briefly onto her arm. “And if you want to see any more of the house just let me know. Always happy to share it with an appreciative audience.”
Her smile hurt her cheeks. “Thank you, that’s very kind.”
As she threaded her way across the room, she kept her spine straight, her head up. The patio doors had been opened, letting in a breeze that was slightly too fresh now she’d given away her cardigan. She snagged a glass of champagne from the tray carried by a passing waitress, slugged half of it back. The bubbles fizzled at the back of her throat as the dryness hit her tongue.
“What the hell have you been doing?” Finn said, as she reached him.
“Sorry. Jenna was determined.” She slipped her hand into his, needing the security which always came with touching him. “I couldn’t drag her away.”
“And Andrew?”
“Asked a lot of questions.”
“Too many?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What do you think of the champagne?”
“What?” Her gaze sharpened. It wasn’t like Finn to bother about the quality of the wine. “Why?”
“The girl carrying the tray is Rachel.”
“Oh hell, I never thought.” Feeling guilty for not noticing, Zoe looked into her glass. “I was too busy worrying about Andrew. How’s she doing?”
“Based on the scowl she was wearing when she came past, not good.”
“Maybe she hates waitressing?”
“Let’s hope it’s only that.”
She tugged on his arm until his head came down and she could whisper in his ear. “Text Winston and tell him Jenna thinks someone’s been doing magic upstairs. She found fenugreek seeds. She says they’re used in money spells.”
“Rachel?”
“I doubt it. It was in one of the guest rooms. What would she be doing up there?”
“Fuck. That’s all we need.”
“I know but it could mean whoever put the youknowwhat on Jenna is here. She needs those answers. She’s doing a good job at holding it together but not knowing is eating her up.”
“Time for the cavalry?”
Zoe looked at Jenna. She wouldn’t be happy with them for bringing the plan forward but what choice did they have. There was too much going on. Too many villains for them to watch. “Do it,” she said.
Finn pulled out his mobile. Zoe glanced around the room, crossing her arms to hold in the worry. There were so many people. Mostly middle-aged, mainly well-dressed, obviously successful. Some spoke in the gentle Orkney accent but many were English or from elsewhere in Scotland. A young boy, possibly Andrew’s other son, dodged around a group chatting by the patio doors followed by a girl of a similar age in a red party dress wearing sparkly, sequin-encrusted shoes.
All of them could get hurt when the storm kicked off. Although she’d seen it and drawn it, there was nothing she could do to warn them. If she tried they’d think she was insane. She gulped down the rest of the champagne. It didn’t help. There wasn’t enough of it for one thing. A couple of glasses of decent red and she might start to feel in control. But she wouldn’t risk it. She knew what was coming and, if she was going to be any use at all, she had to keep her head in the game.
***
Winston screwed up his eyes against the sun. It was making a belated appearance, flitting between the clouds over the mountains of Hoy and sparking reflections off the water like gems on silk.
It was warm now the sun was out. He yawned, rubbed his hand over his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had enough sleep. When all of this was over he was going to sleep for a week. In between shagging Jenna like she’d never been shagged before. Once she felt up to shagging.
He’d spent the remainder of last night in her bed. He’d held her as she cried, watched as she fell asleep and finally, as the light brightened behind the thin curtains, dropped into a restless, nightmare fuelled unconsciousness. Then woken to find Jenna absolutely determined to go through with not one but two ridiculous plans.
“You know Andrew better than any of us.” He turned to Grace. “How’s he going to react to Jenna’s big announcement?”
“He’s going to be furious, of course. Not only has he lost control of Jenna, she’s deceived him as well. He’s going to want to get even.”
“He’s going to have to come through me first.”
His mobile beeped. Finn. “Time for the cavalry. Someone’s been doing magic in one of the guest bedrooms. We’re fairly sure it’s not Rachel.”
His hand slammed against the passenger door.
“Now what?” Grace said.
He didn’t waste time answering her. He sprinted around the car and threw the driver’s door open. He tapped out a one word reply to Finn, slipped his mobile into his pocket and started the engine.
“Showtime,” he said.
Chapter 48
All of the champagne had gone. Rachel put the empty tray behind the makeshift bar, grabbed her bottle of water and took a deep gulp. She hated waitressing. It was as if she became invisible because she’d got a tray in her hands.
A balding, middle-aged man approached. “Highland Park. Make it a double, there’s a good girl. And a dry white wine.”
Rachel filled the glasses and put them both on the bar. He wasn’t local. His accent was from much further south.
“Thanks love.” He winked with a blatant glance at her cleavage as he picked up both glasses.
Her hands tightened into fists. She dealt with wankers like this every day. She didn’t need it on her day off as well. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and counted it out slowly as Nina had taught her. And again, a longer, slower exhale this time.
Felicity’s voice cut through her concentration. “Thank you. They’re Jimmy Choo’s. I got them in Selfridges’ sale.”
“Do you mind me asking how much?” another woman said, in a crisp English accent. “I’ve always wanted a pair but they’re so expensive.”
Rachel opened her eyes. Felicity was resting one hand on the bar, using it for support as she showed off her shoes.
“You have to promise not to tell Andrew.” Felicity gave a little laugh. “I told him they were seventy quid but men are such idiots when it comes to shoes.” The other woman nodded and Felicity continued, “They should have been £550 but I got them for £399 which was an absolute bargain.”
Rachel couldn’t stop herself from leaning forward to look. Brown suede with spike heels decorated with gold studs. And Felicity had spent twice what Rachel earned in a week on them.
As if she felt her looking, Felicity’s head snapped round. “Don’t stand there gawking. Collect some glasses if you’ve nothing else to do.”
Rachel’s hands fisted again. Debbie had said there was usually a tip for the staff at the end of the night and she couldn’t blow her chance of that. Nodding, she picked up her tray.
Felicity shouldn’t speak to her like that. She wasn’t that special. She’d just married a man with money. Who was a liar and a cheat from what she’d heard. Even Nina never had anything good to say about him and he was her brother. Why should they have all this? Why was Felicity able to spend four hundred quid on shoes when Rachel had to work every hour the Goddess sent and still it wasn’t enough?
Without thinking she’d crossed the room, her tray empty, to the patio doors. She stepped out onto the decking. There were more guests out here, clutching glasses, pushing back their hair as it was teased by the wind.
She stopped in the shaded corner between the house and the garage. Could she risk it? Could she hold it together enough to simply make it rain? Enough of a downpour to send Felicity’s guests inside, to ruin their perfect afternoon. It was a small thing, a tiny victory but it’d reset the balance a bit.
Her control was better after all of the exercises Sarah had made her do. The protection spell on the house had worked exactly as she’d intended it to. Apart from the blisters.
Only a steady rain. It wouldn’t take much to do that. She could already feel it in the air. She put her tray down. Raising her hands she called on air and water. Instantly she felt them answer her. She spoke the spell for rain.
***
As always the music calmed Jenna, even through the pain in her arm from holding her fiddle. After finishing The Constant Lover, she glanced up. Finn nodded. She glanced at her watch. Quarter to five. Something had happened to make him bring the plan forward but she couldn’t worry about that now. She was about to blow her cover in the most spectacularly public way.
Turning to Hal she said, “I know it’s not on the set list but let’s play Parcel of Rogues next.”
“It’s not exactly party material. I thought your uncle asked us to keep it lively.”
“Screw him. I want to sing it.”
“Alright.” Hal’s gaze rested on her for a long moment before he moved his capo. “It’s not like anyone’s really listening.”
“They will be.” Jenna laid her fiddle down. “When we’ve finished this I need to say something. Will you help me get their attention?”
“Sure. I’m guessing Andrew’s not expecting this?”
“Not one bit.”
***
Rachel picked up empty glasses and placed them on her tray. The wind whipped around her apron, making it flap against her legs. She pressed it down with her free hand.
Around her folk were glancing at the sky, pulling on jackets and cardigans. The sun disappeared as the first raindrops hit. The guests looked up, exclaimed, began to move inside. Trailing behind, Rachel collected glasses and resisted the urge to smile.
***
Hal had heard her sing it many times. They’d played it at every gig they’d done as a band, at numerous rehearsals and she’d sung it when he first came back to Orkney but he’d never heard her perform it like this. She’d found a power in the words that made them sound fresh, as if the treachery had just happened, as if the betrayal was new.
By the third verse the room had quietened, conversation dying away. Jenna’s chin came up. He knew that sign. Her voice rose, pulling on all of the power she’d got and he followed her, providing the frame to support the notes. On the last line, she looked at him and that inexplicable communion flowed between them.
God, he loved her. More than music, more than friendship, he loved her with his whole heart. He always had.
***
Raindrops splattered Rachel’s black shirt. Balancing her tray, she joined the last of the guests as they waited to enter through the French windows.
Inside, Jenna Henderson was singing. Something folky and sad about the treachery of the English. Hairs rose on Rachel’s arms, a reaction that had nothing to do with the sudden chill. Nina had said Jenna sang beautifully but Rachel had put that down to maternal pride. According to Nina, Jenna was good at pretty much everything which got fairly irritating after a while. But Nina hadn’t overstated about this. Jenna really could sing.
She exchanged a glance with Hal. Rachel couldn’t see her eyes but his said too much. He was crazy about her. Anyone could see it.
Jenna held the last note, Hal played a complicated set of chords and as the music faded folk applauded. Tentatively at first, then growing in strength. Jenna stood, held up her hands in silence and waited.
The last of the guests ahead of Rachel stepped inside and she joined them. She slid the patio doors half closed behind her. It was nice to hear the rhythm of the rain on the decking, smell the freshness of damp earth.
She’d created that and she could make it stop. If she wanted.
She looked around the room until she found Felicity. Her face was like a gnat’s arse, her gaze fixed on Jenna with a look of pure panic. She gestured to Andrew across the room, a slice of the hand that said clearly ‘Kill this now’. But it was too late, Jenna was speaking.
Balancing her tray, Rachel leaned back against the door jamb. There was so much going on, it was like walking into a soap opera and she’d trapped everyone inside to witness it.
***
“Thank you. I want to take this opportunity to say a few words about our generous hosts, Andrew and Felicity.” Jenna’s heart was thumping and her hands were shaking so hard she had to knot them together in front of her. “As you all know Andrew is my uncle. As many of you also know, Mum and he weren’t on the best terms when she died.”
There was a collective intake of breath. Andrew started towards her and then stopped as half the eyes in the room turned to him. Finn checked his mobile and then slipped out.
“Earlier this summer, Andrew’s company put in another application to build at Nethertown. I’m sure many of you will have seen this proposal and will have your own opinions on it. Andrew has told me that the revised plans address many of Mum’s concerns about the development but they don’t change the fact that the land he’s planning to build on is next to the cemetery. I went down to Nethertown a few nights ago and it’s beautiful, the views over to Hoy are amazing. I saw a seal and a bonxie and I was only there for a few minutes. I’m sure there’s a lot more wildlife that relies on that shoreline.
“It hasn’t been an easy decision because I don’t want any more conflict in my family. We’ve all been through enough since Mum’s death. But things have changed for me over the past few days and I’ve realised that there are things which are even more important than family. For that reason, I will be campaigning as Mum did against the Nethertown development.”
A murmur chased through the guests. Jenna raised her hands and waited for it to die down. In her peripheral vision she saw Winston slip into the room with Grace behind him. He winked at her and she let a smile flicker around her mouth for a second.
“I don’t want this to affect my relationship with Andrew and Felicity. I know they’ll respect my right to make my own decisions—” Jenna stared straight at Andrew and saw him redden “— and determine my own path in life. And for that reason, on behalf of myself and my boyfriend, Winston Grant…”
The words were more formal than felt comfortable but she had to acknowledge him publicly. Only that was likely to stop Andrew from throwing him out. On cue, Winston inched past the people surrounding her. Somehow in the few minutes he’d been in the house, he’d obtained a glass of wine. He handed it to her as his arm wrapped around her waist.
“I ask you to raise your glasses and drink a toast to our hosts. To Andrew and Felicity.”
Repeating her last words back, the guests turned as one towards her aunt and uncle.
“Nice work,” Winston whispered in her ear.
Letting some of the tension drain away, she relaxed against him. “And now all hell breaks loose.”
***
Rachel unloaded the glasses on her tray and placed them carefully in the draining board. They were Waterford crystal and Felicity had made it very clear that any breakages would come out of her wages.
The window of the utility room was blurred with rain but there was a sliver of blue sky above Scapa Flow that expanded as the dark clouds scurried away. Rachel shrugged. After Jenna’s speech a spot of rain felt pretty inadequate. She’d stirred up the party in ways Rachel couldn’t begin to grasp.
Kudos to her for speaking out. It must have taken some guts. Rachel had
watched Andrew and Felicity’s faces and saw them go from shock to disbelief to a rage that Felicity hid better than her husband. Especially when the other druid, Winston, turned up. Andrew’s face had gone a particularly vivid red as if he were about to explode.
Who’d have guessed Jenna was with Winston? How did Hal feel about that? Knowing they were together answered one question that had been bugging her. Jenna must have heard about her from Nina and told Winston where to find her. Not the big druid conspiracy she’d been imagining.
Wiping her tray with a dishcloth she looked around the utility room. It was decorated in the same shades as the kitchen: teal walls, granite worktops with a sparkle trapped in the stone and pewter-coloured units. Freezer, washing machine and tumble dryer gleamed brightly white. There was a tall thin cupboard in front of her and, giving in to impulse, she opened it. An ironing board was neatly stowed, beneath it a half-full basket of folded clothes. By the outside door was a tumble of wellington boots, a line of hooks filled with brightly-coloured coats, a box stuffed full of plastic spades, footballs and rackets. The room even smelled clean, a sharp scent of laundry liquid underlaid with bleach. After the quotes she’d had to replace her kitchen, she’d a fair idea exactly how much all of this had cost. Enough to keep Dad in the home for another year probably.
The sharp click of heels alerted her to Felicity’s proximity. With a sigh, she picked up her tray and crossed the room. Then voices came from the kitchen next door.
“The bloody ungrateful little bitch. She’s as bad as my fucking sister. No one could control her either.”
Felicity said sharply, “Close the door, Ewan.”
Rachel took a step away from the door but it didn’t move. Then she heard a sharp snick. Felicity meant the other door, the one between the kitchen and the hall.
Rachel glanced at the outside door in the utility room, the one that exited out onto the patio. She should go through it, return to help Debbie at the bar. But this was too good to miss. It was like EastEnders, only without the cockney accents she found so hard to understand.