by MA Comley
Tony glanced up at her and shook his head. “Some bloody support you are.”
His hand sunk into the mud behind him as he tried to retrieve his false leg. Annoyance creased up his eyes. He held out his other arm in her direction. “When you’ve quite finished laughing at me, any chance you can help a disabled man out of this damn quagmire?”
Lorne knew she shouldn’t laugh at him, knew he’d exact his revenge on her somehow in the not-too-distant future, but the way he’d tumbled reminded her of one of those old black and white films she used to watch as a child. In her youth, the Three Stooges had held her captivated for hours.
When she’d married Tony six months ago, she had no notion her life would be filled with so much laughter and love that had been missing throughout her previous marriage to Tom. Although, looking at the way he was sinking in the mud around their two-acre paddock, Tony wasn’t doing much laughing at the moment.
She ventured forward on the outskirts of the innocent-looking mud patch and held out her hand to help. Their fingers touched tentatively. She reached further, not wishing to spoil the new pink wellies her daughter, Charlie, had bought her the previous weekend. Her hand slipped into his.
Instead of Lorne pulling Tony out of the mud, he jerked his hand quickly and pulled her on top of him. “Laugh at me at your peril, Lorne Warner.”
Her screams of disbelief quickly extinguished, replaced by hoots of laughter. “You really don’t like me missing out on anything, do you?” she asked as he placed a muddy hand either side of her face and looked at her, his eyes brimming with love.
“For better, for worse, the vicar said. It doesn’t get much worse than this.”
They laughed before he kissed her deeply.
The truth was that the mess they were sitting in at the moment was a breeze, compared to what they’d both encountered through life thus far. As an ex-MI6 agent, Tony had been tortured several times for the sake of queen and country. His final mission, after he’d been captured and publicly tortured by the Taliban, had been the one where he’d actually lost his leg. So far, Lorne had been utterly impressed by the way he’d adapted and coped with his disability.
Lorne’s own life experiences had hardly been run-of-the-mill, either. In the line of duty as one of the Met’s best serving detective inspectors, she’d met her fair share of callous villains and come close to losing more than a limb several times herself, in the last decade, mostly at the hands of her archenemy the Unicorn.
The Unicorn had succeeded in killing her partner in the force and had kidnapped and raped her daughter. Those two events had done more damage to her mentally than anything he could’ve conjured up physically, if ever he’d had the chance. There had been an incident where she had found herself naked in his presence, but Lorne, being Lorne, had managed to squirm her way out of the situation before the Unicorn had laid his mucky paws on her.
Their kiss ended, and Lorne let out a satisfied sigh.
“What was that for?” Tony asked.
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
“How we got to be here. The obstacles we’ve both had to overcome. You more than me.”
“Come on. Help me up.”
Lorne salvaged Tony’s prosthetic limb before they attempted to leave the mud. They grunted and groaned as they fought against the stickiness and slipperiness of the mud, then laughed at the way it made slurping noises as they trudged through it back to the safety of the grassy part of the paddock.
He took her in his arms and smiled down at her. “If we hadn’t been together, I doubt I would have got through the last six months, darling.”
Lorne shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “I doubt that’s true, Tony. You’re one of life’s survivors. You wouldn’t know what failure was if it was tattooed on your forehead and you had to look at it in the mirror every morning.”
“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” he asked, running a muddy finger down the length of her nose.
She pretended to think about her reply. “Umm…not since this morning. Let’s grab a coffee and see if the post has come yet.”
Tony strapped his artificial leg in place and slipped an arm around her shoulder as they set off for the main house.
“Are you sure you want to set out on this new venture? Isn’t it a bit soon?” he asked tentatively.
Lorne glanced up at him as they continued walking. “I need to do it. I love having this place. Love the fact that we’re able to save and nurture all these animals that are crying out to be cared for, but there is still something missing. I thought we’d been through all this before I’d applied for the diploma.”
“I know we did. But I kind of like having you around twenty-four, seven.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze.
That was when her brain really kicked in and she felt the beginning of a plan hatching. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. How dumb of me. We could both run the agency. Both be PIs…”
He stopped abruptly and turned to face her. “Now, wait just a minute.” His arm swept around him. “Have you forgotten about this place? Who’s going to run it?”
Lorne waved her hand in front of her, pooh-poohing his question as if the answer were obvious. “Don’t worry about that. I have someone special in mind to look after this place. Hey, we’ll still be around to do the majority of the chores. Neither of us would be able to cope with sitting on our backsides not doing anything all day. We need stimulation. Need our brains to be functioning properly.”
He tutted and shook his head. “Once you have a plan in place, there really is no stopping you, is there?”
“Nope. What do you say?”
“I say, we talk about this over a mug of coffee before I start cleaning out the kennels.”
They were both chuckling about the antics of Henry, their Border collie, chasing the chickens in the yard outside, when they stepped into the kitchen of the farmhouse they’d purchased four months earlier.
The property had been bought on the cheap because the former owners had been in financial difficulties and unable to pay the exorbitant mortgage after the economy had crashed. Lorne and Tony had a couple of flats for sale that they’d renovated, and offered one of the flats in exchange for a reduction on the farmhouse, which was set in ten acres of land. The vendor had virtually snapped their hands off. The transaction had been good for everyone concerned.
The farmhouse, which was in need of minor renovations, came with a kennel block, a two-acre paddock, a small wooded area—ideal to keep their wood-burning stove running during the winter months—and several barns, that could be turned into holiday lets, if needed. Off the main house was an adjoining two-bedroomed annex that had Lorne’s father’s name written all over it.
After they moved in, Lorne had asked the builders who’d carried out the renovations on the flats she had updated, if they would knock the annex into shape for her father to live in, as a complete surprise to Sam Collins.
A month after Tony and Lorne had moved in, her father had visited the farmhouse. That was when Lorne had dangled the idea in front of him. Her father had gone home that evening and immediately contacted an estate agent. The agent had told him that if he wanted a quick sale on his property, he would need to sell it at a lower price than he was expecting to get after owning the house for over twenty years. Lorne had reassured him it was the right thing to do and that the money side of things didn’t really matter.
He sold the house after a couple of weeks, and by the time the sale had gone through, the builders had finished his ‘little house’ as he called it. He’d moved in before the paint had time to dry.
Since the move, her father had seemed like his old self, walking around as if he had a purpose in life. He’d been drifting like a lost soul since Lorne’s mother had died of breast cancer four years earlier, struggling daily to cope with his retirement from the force and being thrust into living a solitary life. He’d been crying out for more of a social life with his two d
aughters and their respective partners just to keep his sanity intact.
Her father greeted them at the back door, his face beaming as he studied the state of their clothes. “What on earth have you two been up to?”
“Tony was sampling the mud out by the paddock to see if it would be viable to sell it to the health spa up the road,” Lorne told him as she walked over to the kitchen sink to wash the mud off her face.
Her father laughed. “I’m not sure I believe you on that score, dear.”
Lorne dried her face and hands, pecked her father on the cheek and headed into the hallway. “I’m just going to get out of these clothes, then I have a proposition for you, Dad.”
She could hear her father asking Tony what she meant, but she disappeared up the stairs before she heard her husband’s response.
Lorne ignored the pink large-flowered vinyl wallpaper adorning the walls of her boudoir and went over to the wardrobe in the corner. As she pulled on her clean clothes, she mulled over how much better the room would look after she was done with it. She couldn’t wait to put her designer skills into action; she had big ideas for the master bedroom. She’d already made up a mood board for the room. The board contained several magazine clippings of furniture she had her eye on, swatches of material she had chosen for the bedding and curtains, and even a sample of the carpet she had earmarked for the room.
But the changes would have to wait until more funds became available. At present, all their money had been set aside for feeding the menagerie of animals they had already rescued in their short time at the property. It hadn’t taken long for word to spread that Lorne and Tony never turned away an animal in need. Which meant that at the moment, they shared their home with ten dogs, five cats, and a flock of geese that had narrowly escaped being made into foie gras thanks to Lorne’s timely intervention.
Several old sheep grazed in the field next to her father’s annex, and the newest member of their animal family was a donkey that was due to arrive that morning. That was why Lorne and Tony had been out by the paddock earlier, where they had accidentally ended up frolicking in the mud. The object of the exercise had been to ensure that the paddock was safe for the little fellow before putting him in his new home. The poor mite had spent his entire young life living in a grubby barn, up to his knees in his own faeces, without a fresh blade of grass ever having passed his lips.
When Lorne had heard of the poor creature’s plight, it had taken all her strength not to punch the owner on the nose. The second he’d shown her the donkey’s living conditions, Lorne’s heart immediately went out to the poor animal. She had paid the man two hundred pounds, and not yet having access to a horsebox, she had asked him if he would deliver Hercules to the house. The vile owner had ummed and ahhed before he reluctantly agreed.
She arrived back in the kitchen just as the post shot through the letterbox. Lorne skipped up the hallway and pounced on the mixture of brown and white envelopes. Placing the brown bills to the back of the pile, she tore open the A5-sized envelope she’d been expecting and whooped for joy. Punching a fist in the air she let out a relieved, “Yes!”
There was no licence in the UK at present for private investigators, but having a diploma from one of the leading PI courses went a long way to setting up a PI firm. Lorne laughed to herself as she wandered back to the kitchen. Maybe I’ll be the female version of Mike Hammer.
“I see you got it, then,” Tony said, shaking his head with amusement.
“Got what?” Lorne’s father asked, confused.
She handed him the laminated certificate and waited for his reaction. She laughed when his eyes almost popped out of his ageing face.
“A PI! Are you insane?”
That was not how she had anticipated her father would react to the news. “Why not?”
Her father poured the boiling water into the mugs, stirred the coffees, and set the mugs on the kitchen table as the three of them pulled out their chairs and sat down, some of them more heavily than others.
Sam Collins let out a deep breath. His gaze met hers. “For heaven’s sake, Lorne. What about this place? All this was to be your new exciting venture, or have you forgotten that?”
Lorne looked over at Tony for help, but he shrugged once and looked down at his mug of coffee. She was on her own, on this one. “Okay, Dad. You’re right; of course you are. But…”
She paused for a second or two as she searched for the right words, all the while becoming more nervous under her father’s intense stare. She twisted her mug on the table in front of her before taking a sip of the scalding hot liquid. Great. Now she’d have a blister on the roof of her mouth to have to contend with for the rest of the day, too.
She cleared her throat and looked her father in the eye as she’d always done when her determined streak came to the fore. “Dad, you know me—”
“Huh, I should. You’re my flesh and blood, after all. But I sometimes wonder if I really know you at all, Lorne. Over the years, you’ve had some hare-brained schemes, but this…this definitely tops the lot.”
Lorne frowned. “Why? I’m not sure what it is you’re so against, Dad.” It was difficult for her to push down the feeling of hurt from his reaction.
Instead of answering her, her father turned to Tony. “And you’re all right with this?”
Officially stuck in the middle, Tony rose to his feet. “I think it best if I leave you two alone to discuss this. I’ll be in the lounge. Give me a shout when you’re done.”
Gobsmacked, Lorne’s jaw dropped open as her eyes bore into his traitorous retreating back. That day was turning out to be full of surprises. Both the men in her life had reacted to the situation by giving her the cold shoulder, something she was neither used to nor appreciated.
“I take it Tony agrees with me?” her father asked, a note of triumph in his voice.
Lorne turned back to her father and gathered his hand in hers. “Why all the anger, Dad?”
He seemed shocked by her question. “Oh darling, it’s not anger. It’s concern. In the past three years, you’ve changed your mind so many times I can hardly keep up with you. This was to be your and Tony’s new start. Now you want to start putting your life at risk again. What about the animals? What’s going to happen to them?”
“The animals will be well-cared for.”
“By whom?” he asked through slanted eyes.
“Umm…Well, I thought you could help out there.”
Her father shook his head, and the creases in his forehead disappeared. He smiled and tilted his head. “Oh, you did, did you? You do realise that I’m not getting any younger.”
“I know, Dad, but…”
Amused, he laughed when he understood what she was getting at. “I need to earn my keep, is that it?”
She squeezed his hand affectionately and felt relieved that his anger or concern had momentarily dissipated. “Would you like to hear my plan? My revised plan for this place.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Okay, here goes. No interrupting. Just hear me out. Promise?”
Her father slid his hand from under hers and leaned back in his chair, his arms folded tightly across his chest.
She inhaled deeply. “First off, I need to get out there and help people. I can’t keep going back to the force, though, Dad. You know I don’t fit into their male dominated society. So I figured becoming a PI would be the next best thing. I love helping the animals out, and I would never want to give up this place. However, I have a niggling doubt that something is missing. I don’t feel complete.”
She leaned over the table and whispered, “I’m doing this as much for Tony as for me. Do you seriously think he’s going to be happy mucking out kennels for the rest of his life? He’s getting used to his leg now, and once that happens, he’ll need more stimulation than picking up dog turds all day long. I know he doesn’t seem keen on the idea now, but I’m sure once the cases start rolling in, he’ll be the first one sifting through them, pouncing on the
juicier ones.” She sat back in her chair and laughed.
“Can I talk now?”
She smiled and nodded.
“I can understand where you’re coming from, especially where Tony is concerned, but I just don’t think you’ve thought everything through thoroughly. Like I say, I’m not getting any younger. It takes two of you to run this place as it is now, and you’re expecting me to do it on my own.” He raised a hand to silence Lorne before she could speak. “You’ve had your say, without interruptions. Please give me the same courtesy.”
She squeezed her lips together and ran two fingers over them, pretending to zip her mouth shut.
Her father rolled his eyes. “All this PI stuff can be tough, you know. Have you considered how you’re going to do background checks on people, et cetera? There are certain things you won’t be able to find out on the Internet. Obviously, it depends what type of cases come in. All the same, I don’t think you’ve done enough homework on the subject. Although I do understand your need to want to help people, nothing gave me greater pleasure than to help you in your investigation when Charlie was kidnapped. However, I was helping an active police investigation. We had certain files and other outside agencies we could call on for help. That’s how you and Tony met, if you remember?”
“I’m hardly likely to forget how we met, Dad. Oops, sorry. Can I speak?”
Her father smirked and nodded, then took a sip of coffee.
“I didn’t go into this project without some thought, Dad. I’m still in touch with DCI Roberts—who is constantly begging me to return, I hasten to add. He’s aware of my intentions and has offered to lend a hand when he can. He understands me, knows that I wouldn’t abuse any help offered. I know there’ll be certain things he can’t help me with, wearing his jobsworth hat, but that’s where I’m hoping Katy will be willing to step in.”
“Katy?”
“My former partner. Once I tell her what I’m up to, I hope she’ll volunteer to assist and carry out certain activities for me that Roberts won’t be able to give the go-ahead for.”
“That sounds mighty dangerous for Katy, Lorne. She could lose her job for helping you out, if she gets caught.”