Autumn at the Star and Sixpence

by Holly Hepburn

  Sam climbed down the ladder and stared at him suspiciously. ‘That’s a very convincing hat. Is it the one you wear in Smugglers’ Inn?’

  Nick grinned. ‘Might be. Don’t tell the props department.’

  Sam laughed. ‘You’d better hang on to it, then. You know what your fans are like, they’ll do anything to own their very own bit of Smugglers’ swag.’

  ‘Who are you dressing up as?’ Nick asked, kissing her cheek. He’d shaved his trademark stubble for the role too. ‘Please tell me it’s something fabulous.’

  Sam smiled, thinking of the skin-tight Catwoman costume in her wardrobe upstairs. ‘I’ll see your highwayman and raise you a superhero.’

  ‘Wait until you see it,’ Nessie called from the other side of the bar. ‘I’m pretty sure she’s going to give Franny a coronary.’

  ‘Or Henry,’ Sam said, with a wicked smile. ‘How are you, anyway? The guest rooms are fully booked, I’m afraid – JoJo and her sister are staying up there – so you’ll have to bunk in with me. Is that all right?’

  ‘I’m sure I’ll cope,’ Nick replied, his eyes twinkling. He waved a hand around the bar. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’

  Sam grinned and handed him a fistful of drawing pins. ‘I’m glad you asked that. How are you with bats?’

  By nine-thirty, Sam was regretting her costume choice. It was too hot, too tight and had definite drawbacks in the comfort break department. But it had certainly turned heads; Nick’s eyes had lit up when she’d appeared in the bedroom door and he’d kissed her in a way that left no doubt of his appreciation. There’d been a gratifying moment of silence when she’d entered the crowded bar, broken by a long, low wolf whistle that had almost made her blush. Even so, Sam was beginning to wish she’d gone for a classical Venetian vampire costume like Nessie – anything that meant a visit to the toilet didn’t take half an hour.

  Owen and Luke had come as Batman and Robin, which was cute. Connor was cutting an elegant figure as Zorro, complete with a wicked-looking rapier. Franny appeared to be dressed as Elizabeth I and Henry looked very much like Henry VIII, which Sam found an oddly incestuous pairing. Nick was getting an unbelievable amount of attention as Elijah Blackheart – as Sam had predicted, die-hard Smugglers’ Inn fans had recognised the authentic hat almost instantly and she’d heard more than one over-excited guest plotting to steal it by the end of the night. Inevitably, some guests had turned up in similar outfits but most just laughed it off. There were one or two whose costumes were so good that Sam couldn’t identify exactly who was underneath. She hadn’t spotted Joss and assumed he’d decided not to come.

  By ten-thirty, the party was in full swing. Connor’s Dark and Stormy cocktails were going down well – cider and rum topped with ginger ale was proving a potent mix and more than one guest was looking the worse for wear. The band Sam had booked to play had everyone up dancing with a mixture of covers from every decade. Nick had dragged Sam to join in with the Time Warp, although she had to go outside for some fresh air afterwards. And then, just before eleven o’clock, the lights went out.

  ‘Don’t panic, everyone,’ she called, with a silent groan. ‘The switch has just tripped. Let me find a torch and I’ll have the lights back on in a heartbeat.’

  Down in the cellar, it only took her a moment to flick the switch. A cheer from upstairs told her the lights had come back on, although the cellar remained stubbornly dark. Frowning, she stared at the switch, checking to see if any of the other buttons looked wrong but everything seemed to be in order. Maybe the bulb had gone, she thought, swinging her torch upwards to look at the fitting. It would have to wait until the morning, if it had.

  Carefully, she picked her way back to the stairs. A shadow appeared in the doorway and she peered up to see the outline of a tricorn hat. ‘Bloody hell, Nick, you scared me!’

  She reached the top of the stairs but stopped when Nick didn’t move. He stared at her in silence for a moment, his face shrouded in shadow, then suddenly one arm swooped behind her back to pull her close and he leaned in to kiss her hard.

  A burst of heat exploded through Sam. One hand clasped the banister to ensure she didn’t fall, the other wound itself around Nick’s neck. The kiss went on, growing deeper and more passionate with each passing second, until Sam thought he might sweep her into his arms and carry her up the stairs to take things further. It was unlike any kiss Nick had given her before; strange and yearning but familiar all at the same time.

  Then he broke off, as suddenly as he’d started. With a swirl of his cape, he turned and went, leaving Sam staring after him in confusion. He’d never got into a role that much before, she thought, touching her bruised lips, not even when she’d visited him on location. Maybe it was something to do with the mask. Or maybe it was her Catwoman outfit. She’d certainly received enough compliments about the way it fitted her.

  At midnight Nessie called time and the guests reluctantly began to leave. Nick was still surrounded by a crowd of adoring fans – smiling, Sam edged her way to his side. ‘That was some kiss earlier, Mr Highwayman,’ she murmured into his ear. ‘Anyone would think you were an actor.’

  Nick blinked at her. ‘What? When?’

  ‘At the cellar door,’ Sam said, gazing quizzically at him. ‘Just after the lights went out.’

  He frowned. ‘Sam, I don’t know who it was you kissed but it definitely wasn’t me. Martha hasn’t let me move from this spot all night.’

  Sam stepped back in alarm. She’d been so sure it was Nick – he’d had the same tricorn hat, the same cloth mask, everything. But it wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility that someone else had been at the ball in the same costume . . . in fact, why hadn’t she thought of that earlier? The kiss hadn’t been Nick’s usual style; it had been harder, more desperate. An opportunistic, stolen kiss by someone who knew exactly where she’d be . . .

  Sam’s head whipped around as she scanned the remaining guests. At first she couldn’t see another highwayman, then she spotted him on his way out of the door. His hat was different – cheap-looking and plastic. He reached up to take it off and now she could see his hair was fair, not dark like Nick’s. He glanced over his shoulder as he went and locked eyes with hers: blue eyes, the colour of the summer sky. And suddenly she knew who the mystery kisser had been, and why it had seemed different but familiar all at the same time: Joss had come as Elijah Blackheart too.

  Chapter Ten

  Luke was yawning, struggling to keep his eyes open as Owen and Nessie said goodnight in the doorway of the Star and Sixpence.

  ‘And you’re sure you don’t mind?’ Owen said for the third time, gazing anxiously at Nessie.

  She laughed. ‘I’ve told you, I’m happy to help. Go and see Kathryn’s gig. Luke and I will have a great time while you’re gone, won’t we?’

  Luke nodded and yawned again.

  Nessie lowered her voice. ‘Any time you need help, just give me a shout. I know Kathryn loves looking after Luke but she deserves a bit of me time too.’

  Owen smiled. ‘Thank you, I will.’

  He gazed down at her, his eyes alive with warmth behind their mask. Nessie held her breath, wondering if he was about to kiss her, and then Luke let out a third noisy yawn and the spell broke.

  ‘So I’ll see you on Thursday,’ Owen said, with a rueful glance at Luke. ‘About half past seven?’

  ‘But hopefully I’ll see you before then,’ Nessie said, feeling suddenly emboldened by her costume. If you couldn’t be forward when you were dressed as a Venetian vampire, when could you be?

  Something flared in Owen’s gaze. ‘I hope so too. Goodnight, Nessie.’

  She watched him vanish across the yard and into the doorway of Snowdrop Cottage. Tiny steps, she reminded herself with a secret smile. She should wish on meteors more often.

  Back inside the bar, there was a noticeable strain in the air. Sam and Nick were clearly mid-argument, although they stopped as Nessie came nearer.

  ‘Everything o
kay?’ she asked cautiously, looking back and forth between them.

  ‘Fine,’ Sam snapped.

  ‘If you consider the news that Sam’s been snogging other men fine,’ Nick said dryly.

  ‘I’ve told you, it was a case of mistaken identity. It was dark, he kissed me and I assumed it was you so I kissed him back. It wasn’t until later that I realised it was Joss.’

  ‘Joss?’ Nessie gasped. ‘What the hell does he think he’s playing at?’

  ‘I’ve got no idea,’ Sam said, shaking her head. ‘Maybe he thought I was someone else.’

  ‘Of course he did,’ Nick said, raising an eyebrow. ‘He confused you with the other Catwoman who was here.’

  Nessie stared at her sister with a mixture of consternation and pity. What was it about Sam that attracted drama? It seemed as though every relationship she had was tarred with the same brush.

  ‘Look, Nick, I don’t think you can blame Sam for this,’ Nessie said.

  Nick stared first at her, then at Sam. He sighed. ‘I suppose not. You do look bloody amazing in that costume – I’m not surprised he was tempted.’

  Sam shook her head. ‘I really did think it was you.’ She glanced over at Nessie. ‘I saw you and Owen getting pretty cosy out there just now.’

  ‘I’m babysitting for him Thursday so he can go to Kathryn’s gig,’ Nessie explained. ‘We were just sorting everything out.’

  ‘And speaking of sorting things out, you need to call Patrick,’ Sam said in a stern tone of voice. ‘You’ve written him a new business plan, now you need to hand it over, along with a firm goodbye.’

  Nessie sighed. ‘I know. It’s just—’

  ‘It’s just nothing,’ Sam cut in. ‘He’ll try to talk you round, Nessie. Don’t let him.’

  ‘Okay,’ Nessie said, raising her hands in mock-surrender. ‘I’ll call him tomorrow.’

  Sam nodded once and glanced over at Nick. ‘Right, are we good, Mr Highwayman, or do you want to sleep on the sofa?’

  Nick hung his head. ‘We’re good, Catwoman. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Excellent,’ Sam said. ‘Are you all right to lock up, Ness?’

  ‘Of course,’ Nessie said. ‘You two go on up.’

  Sam headed for the stairs behind the bar. ‘Oh, and Nick?’ she called over one shoulder. ‘Bring the hat, okay?’

  Nessie waited until the guests from the upstairs rooms had checked out before she called Patrick. There was no sign of life from her sister’s room but that wasn’t exactly a surprise, given the look in Sam’s eyes when she’d led Nick up to bed. Carrying the phone downstairs to the empty bar, Nessie dialled Patrick’s number with shaking fingers.

  ‘It’s me,’ she said, when he answered. ‘Nessie.’

  ‘Ness!’ His voice was instantly warm and happy. ‘How are you, darling?’

  Nessie winced. This was going to be harder than she’d expected. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. ‘I’m okay. Listen, I’ve been looking at your accounts and I think I can see a way out of this.’

  She explained the business plan she’d put together with Sam, detailing in simple terms how Patrick could repair the damage to both his finances and his reputation. There was a long silence on the other end of the phone when she’d finished.

  ‘Patrick?’ Nessie said, after a little while. ‘What do you think?’

  Another pause. ‘So I guess this means I’m not moving to Little Monkham.’

  Nessie closed her eyes. ‘No.’

  ‘And I guess it means we’re not getting back together either.’

  There was no mistaking the bitterness in his voice now. She took a deep breath and fixed her gaze on a sparkling spider that was twirling lazily from the ceiling. ‘No, Patrick. I’m sorry. I should have told you this before but I’ve actually met someone else.’

  A bark of laughter ricocheted through the phone. ‘Fucking hell, Nessie, you didn’t waste any time. It’s that blacksmith, isn’t it? I saw he was sniffing round you.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter who it is,’ Nessie said, fighting to keep her voice steady. ‘What matters is that you can move on now, find someone new for yourself.’

  ‘Don’t pretend you’re doing this for me.’ His snort of derision rattled through the handset. ‘I don’t know why I’m surprised, actually. You always did put yourself first.’

  ‘That’s not true—’

  ‘It is,’ Patrick snapped. ‘If you cared about anyone other than yourself you wouldn’t have left in the first place.’

  Nessie dug her nails into her palm. ‘Goodbye, Patrick.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, hang up on me. Pretend I don’t exist,’ he said and now his tone was whiny and petulant. ‘Good luck getting the money for the house, by the way. It’ll be a long time before I can afford to buy you out, not when I’ve got a business to bail out too.’

  There was a loud clatter as he slammed the phone down. Nessie disconnected the call and sat quietly for a moment, staring into space. Had she been selfish to leave him, to want more than a half-interested friendship, to expect love from her husband? She didn’t think so. Patrick was hurt and worried about his business now, but in time he’d come to see that she’d made the right choice for both of them. But that didn’t mean his words didn’t sting, she realised, as tears prickled the backs of her eyes. She let them fall, unchecked, for a minute, then dried her face with her sleeve and started to take down the Halloween decorations.

  ‘You’re sure you got it all?’ Sam asked Nessie in an undertone, as they waited on the doorstep of Weir Cottage on Tuesday morning, with what appeared to be half the village. ‘You didn’t miss any?’

  ‘If I did, it’s pretty well hidden,’ Nessie replied. ‘I guess we’ll soon find out.’

  Owen pulled the car up to the kerb and got out to help Ruby onto her crutches. The crowd burst into applause as she started to make her way up the path and Nessie was pleased to see Ruby had a full face of make-up on. She had gathered up what she thought Ruby would need and taken it to the hospital shortly after her fall, along with night-clothes and clean underwear, but she had no idea whether she’d chosen the right products. Either she’d done well or Ruby had made the best of what she had; Nessie suspected Ruby would rather die than face an audience without her make-up.

  ‘Oh stop it,’ Ruby called, trying and failing to look displeased. ‘You’re embarrassing me.’

  ‘Welcome home, Ruby,’ Sam called, joining in with the applause. ‘We missed you.’

  ‘You mean you missed my bar bill,’ Ruby replied. ‘I bet your takings have halved.’

  There was a smattering of dutiful laughter but Nessie and Sam exchanged worried looks. How would Ruby react when she discovered every drop of drink had been removed from the cottage? How would she feel when she walked into the Star and Sixpence and found no one would serve her alcohol? And what would she say when she realised that every shop in the village had agreed not to sell her wine or spirits? Would she see it as a well-meaning attempt to save her life or an intolerable interference?

  Ruby’s consultant at the hospital had taken Nessie and Sam to one side after the operation.

  ‘Are you Miss Cabernet’s immediate family?’

  ‘We’re the closest thing she has to family,’ Sam said firmly.

  ‘Then I’m sure you’re aware that she has a drink problem. The results from her blood tests show some elevated enzyme levels that are indicative of quite severe liver damage and her bones are quite thin.’ He consulted his notes. ‘We can’t tell more without a biopsy but I would suggest that Ruby stops drinking at once, or at least cuts down drastically. Her body can’t take much more.’

  The sisters had worked out a plan on the way back from the hospital and had agreed that Franny had to be in on it. As much as Ruby would hate the thought of Franny knowing her secret, saving her life mattered more and they needed the weight of the village behind them if it was going to work.

  Ruby reached the front door and turned to face the crowd. ‘I owe you thanks, my
friends, for taking the time to welcome me home.’ She smiled. ‘I can’t tell you how happy I am to be here. The NHS is wonderful and they’ve looked after me well, but as the incomparable Judy Garland once said, there’s no place like home.’

  She managed to get her keys into the lock on the third attempt and manoeuvred her crutches inside. Nessie and Sam followed her and closed the door while Ruby looked around.

  ‘Someone’s been busy,’ she remarked. ‘It wasn’t this tidy before.’

  ‘I did a bit of cleaning,’ Nessie said cautiously. ‘But it didn’t need much.’

  ‘Fibber,’ Ruby said, giving her a knowing look. ‘Housework has never been my strong suit – there was always something more interesting to do.’

  ‘Can we get you a cup of tea, Ruby?’ Sam asked, heading towards the kitchen.

  ‘God, no,’ Ruby said, settling into a hard chair with a pained expression. ‘I’ve been living on the stuff for over a week now. Get me a proper drink, there’s a good girl. G&T, on the rocks, just how I like it.’

  Sam stopped and turned slowly around. ‘I can’t do that, Ruby. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Of course you can,’ Ruby said in a brisk voice. ‘There’s some gin in the cereal cupboard and the tonic is in the fridge. I assume I don’t need to tell you where to find the ice.’

  ‘There’s no gin in the cereal cupboard,’ Nessie said. ‘It’s all gone.’

  Ruby let out an incredulous laugh. ‘Did you throw a party while I was gone?’

  Nessie knelt at the older woman’s side. ‘The doctor spoke to us about your drinking. You need to stop, Ruby.’

  ‘No, what I need is a gin and tonic,’ Ruby said and her voice had an edge Nessie had never heard before. ‘Without the lecture chaser, thank you.’

  ‘You won’t find any alcohol here,’ Sam said. ‘You won’t be served at the Star and Sixpence or at any of the shops in Little Monkham. We mean it. You have to stop.’