Valentine Present and Other Diabolical Liberties

by Lynda Renham

  I so wish I was.

  ‘What about my Cath Kidston holdall?’ she says genuinely.

  I feel nauseous with nerves.

  ‘You think a pink floral holdall is more appropriate do you?’ I say, not even attempting to hide my irritation.

  ‘Well it’s that or your pink suitcase. We’re supposed to be going to a meeting not a bloody spa weekend. How do we explain why we’re taking a suitcase?’

  ‘Paperwork,’ I suggest.

  She shakes her head. I scrape my hair back into a ponytail and look at her.

  ‘Well, what do you suggest, we don’t have anything else?’ I snap, pulling the pink Primark case from under the bed.

  Silently we drop five hundred and fifty pounds into the case along with a note written on Glenwood Manor personalised notepaper. Fiona reads it aloud.

  Dear Jack Diamond, I’m sorry but we could only get five hundred and fifty pounds from the cash machine. So please accept this as an IOU.

  ‘Jesus Christ Harry.’

  I shrug.

  ‘You said they wouldn’t take a cheque.’

  ‘I don’t think they will take kindly to an IOU either.’

  I zip up the suitcase and peek outside the door. I drop Fiona’s phone into my handbag, push my old woollen hat in there too and nod at her.

  ‘Let’s go,’ I say feeling myself buoyed up with adrenalin.

  Fiona opens the door slowly, peeks round it and then closes it again.

  ‘Do you think we should take a gun or something?’

  ‘Crikey, Fiona, what the hell are you going to do with a gun?’

  ‘Well, obviously to shoot them if they turn out to be psychos.’

  I suppose she has a point. I check the time on her phone.

  ‘We don’t have time to sneak into the gun room. I’ll grab a tin of hairspray.’

  ‘What use is that? Are you going to threaten them with a wash and blow dry?’

  She stands with her hand on the doorknob.

  ‘Harriet, I’m not sure this is a good idea. Maybe you should tell Hamilton’s family the truth. Or tell Brice, he seems nice.’

  I shake my head.

  ‘I can’t. Hamilton will want back all the money he’s given me. I’ve got to get out of this debt Fiona. Otherwise my life will be ruined.’

  ‘I fucking hate Julian,’ she says her voice cracking with emotion. ‘You don’t deserve this.’

  I fight back the tears that prick my eyelids and gesture to the door. She opens it cautiously.

  ‘Okay, all clear.’

  I’m beginning to feel like we are off to pull a heist. Actually that’s not such a bad idea is it? We can borrow the guns from the gun room. It would be easy to buy balaclavas and then all we’d have to do is hold up a bank. No one need know it’s us. I mean, seriously, who would ever suspect the two women staying at Glenwood’s aristocratic estate? I’m about to suggest the idea to Fiona when I see Sebastian mounting the stairs and I begin to sweat for all I’m worth.

  ‘Oh shit,’ mumbles Fiona.

  ‘You girls just off?’ he asks smiling.

  I nod mutely, trying to discreetly push the suitcase behind me but it’s too late and he points to it.

  ‘Are you staying overnight there?’ he asks suspiciously.

  Fiona laughs and shakes back her hair in the manner of a sex goddess but she obviously shakes it too much and wobbles on her wedges.

  ‘It’s all the paperwork. I feel so bad that I thought it would be better to have everything with us,’ she says, grabbing the bannister for support. ‘It would be Sod’s Law that we’ll get there and the one document we need, will be the one I left behind,’ she says, stressing each word with extreme hand gestures and shakes of her head.

  Wow, doesn’t she sound like one efficient PA, not!

  ‘I prefer to have everything at hand at any important meeting,’ I add.

  ‘Well, let me carry it down the stairs for you. We don’t want you ladies doing yourselves an injury do we?’

  ‘No really it’s fine,’ I say quickly.

  ‘Good muscle exercise,’ says Fiona flexing her arm. Oh God, I do wish she would shut up. He looks at her oddly.

  ‘I’d be no gentleman if I let you carry this heavy thing all the way down the stairs,’ he says inclining his head towards the case. If only he knew. Then, before I can stop him, he crouches down beside the case and prepares himself to lift it. I pull a face at Fiona. He takes a breath and lifts the handles with such force that he reels backwards.

  ‘Good heavens, it’s as light as a feather,’ he says in a puzzled voice.

  ‘It’s just you’re awfully strong Sir Sebastian,’ purrs Fiona fluttering her eyelashes.

  Good God, what is she playing at?

  ‘I’ll put it into the Porsche for you,’ he says, flustered.

  ‘Sebastian, thank you so much,’ she says huskily.

  I gawp at them like an imbecile and then quickly follow. Two minutes later Fiona is waving gratefully from the Porsche while Sebastian stares after us with a bemused look on his face.

  * * *

  ‘Holy shit,’ says Fi.

  Fiona and I sit in the Porsche staring at Glengarry estate in a state of shock. I’m not sure what Fi and I expected but it certainly wasn’t this.

  ‘I need a drink,’ Fi says eventually.

  I stare at the run-down houses which make the Mardyke Estate look like luxury apartments. The buildings look like they will fall down if you so much as blow on them. At that moment a couple of youths wearing leather jackets begin to stroll towards the Porsche and I pull my hat lower over my eyes.

  ‘Oh shit, I told you we should have brought guns,’ moans Fiona.

  ‘You can’t shoot everyone that approaches us,’ I say, not taking my eyes off the youths whose numbers seem to have doubled.

  ‘Oh God,’ says Fiona in a shaky voice. ‘Do they look like the type that would bang gang us?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I mean gang-bang us,’ she says wringing her hands.

  I start the engine again and continue on. They give us a two finger salute as we pass, and Fiona takes a deep breath. We pass dirty faced children playing in the streets, burnt out cars and women in aprons smoking as their kids kick footballs at parked cars. But there is no sign of a disused warehouse. Fiona points eagerly and I follow her finger to a run-down off-licence where several youths stand around swigging from a whisky bottle. What I wouldn’t do for a quick swig too.

  ‘God, this is not the place to bring a Porsche,’ says Fiona, stating the bloody obvious as only Fiona can.

  She has a point though. If we leave the car for so much as five seconds it will be pounced upon and then how the hell do I explain to everyone that Hamilton’s car no longer has tyres, hubcaps or a radio? In fact how do I explain that Hamilton no longer has a car? Fiona is right. This not the place to bring a Porsche. In fact, it’s not a place to bring a car, period. It’s certainly not the place for two aristocratic women either. I miserably think it is probably the right place for a laundrette manager though.

  ‘You’ll have to stay in the car while I meet Jack Diamond.’

  ‘No way,’ she squeals. ‘I’m not going to be the centre of rape and pillage thank you very much. Not unless they all look like Colin Firth, which is highly unlikely.’

  ‘Can’t you fantasise?’ I joke. ‘Just think of Pride and Prejudice.’

  ‘How can you make fun at a time like this?’ she cries.

  ‘You meet Diamond and I’ll stay in the car then.’

  ‘You must be joking. I want to hang onto my ears, thank you very much.’

  I bring the car to a screeching halt when I spot a disused warehouse ahead of us. We both peer through the windscreen.

  ‘This must be it,’ whispers Fiona. ‘We can both go. We can easily see the car from the warehouse.’

  Adrenalin is pumping madly though my body. My shoulders are tense and my head thumps.

  ‘Supposing they have Julian and
he’s all beaten and battered,’ I say anxiously.

  ‘You make him sound like a piece of cod,’ quakes Fiona.

  I unlock the car and step out cautiously. Thank God it’s still light. I lift the suitcase from the boot and begin walking towards the warehouse.

  ‘Wait for me,’ squeals Fiona, struggling with her glasses.

  The door of the warehouse creaks open and a well-dressed man appears in the doorway. I drop the case in fear when two other men appear from the shadows.

  ‘‘ello ‘arriet, who’s yer friend?’

  ‘Oh my God, he has a finger missing,’ she whispers.

  ‘Don’t draw attention to it,’ I whisper back.

  ‘These are seriously hard Harry. I told you we should have brought a gun.’

  ‘Who are your friends,’ I say trying to sound cocky but my voice shakes.

  He looks at the suitcase.

  ‘What the ‘ell is that?’

  I lift up my pink Primark suitcase and clutch it tightly to my hip.

  ‘It’s the money you asked for.’

  ‘The monkey,’ adds Fiona.

  I cock my head at her.

  ‘Sorry,’ she mumbles.

  ‘You brought it in a pink suitcase?’ he asks, his eyes widening. ‘And why’s it so big, you taking the piss ‘arriet?’

  I struggle to see the other two men whom I presume are Mad Jack Junior and Babyface Jack but they stay in the shadows.

  ‘You said not to bring it in a Sainsbury’s carrier bag. If you had a favourite colour you should have told me,’ I snap, feeling irritated as well as anxious.

  ‘Ouch,’ whispers Fiona hanging onto my arm and I feel the trembling of her body.

  He gestures to one of the men who steps forward to take the suitcase and both Fiona and I jump back. The other man ventures out of the shadows and averts his face but I recognise him immediately and step forward.

  ‘Harry, what are you doing?’ trembles Fiona.

  ‘Is that you Jack?’ I ask.

  He bows his head and looks uncomfortable.

  ‘Me lad Babyface,’ says Jack Diamond, pulling the man forward.

  I gasp. I know him. He comes into the laundrette. I stare into his eyes and he looks away.

  ‘But I know you, we’ve chatted in the laundrette. I’ve always been nice to you. I thought you were a decent person,’ I yell. ‘Do you have any idea what you’ve done?’

  ‘Harry,’ Fiona quakes, ‘don’t upset them. Do you want a Valium?’

  Don’t upset them? How about the way they have upset me?

  ‘I folded your shirts and paired your socks. I should have strung them all together and bleeding throttled you,’ I say feeling my anger well over.

  ‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ groans Fiona, frantically shaking Valium from a bottle. ‘God Harry, we’ll lose more than our ears if you go on like this.’

  I let out a long sigh.

  ‘My sons are spoilt. I blame their mother, yer know what I mean. Now, let’s get back to business,’ says Jack Diamond with a jerk of his head and a twitch of his shoulders. Sod this for a game of soldiers. I’ve paid their monkey and the ton.

  ‘I’m not talking business with you or your stupid sons. You killed my goldfish,’ I say accusingly to Babyface Jack.

  Mad Jack Junior takes a step forward and Fiona lets out a small moan and tries to pull me towards the car.

  ‘It was business ‘arriet, not personal,’ says Diamond lifting his palms upwards.

  Not personal, not bleeding personal. It was my goldfish wasn’t it? Not Mrs Mollard’s on the second floor. How much more personal can you get?

  ‘That’s the last I’m paying you. If you want any more you’ll have to get it from Julian. That money should keep the restaurant safe for one month unless of course you don’t keep your word.’

  ‘Don’t keep me word?’ Diamond pulls at the lapels of his jacket. ‘What kind of bleedin’ respect is that?’

  ‘Oh God, we’re going to die here, I just know we are,’ mumbles Fiona shakily. ‘Alistair will never forgive me if I die in this slum. Why can’t you just be nice to them?’

  ‘I’m sorry ‘arriet,’ says Babyface. ‘I didn’t mean any ‘arm.’

  ‘Shut up whining. How many times do I ‘ave to tell yer that ain’t ‘ow yer get birds,’ Diamond says angrily walloping Babyface around the head before turning back to me.

  ‘I suggest you get me another monkey by the end of this month, else ole Julian’s little gaff will be a pile of ash,’ says Diamond menacingly.

  ‘I’m not getting you a monkey, a goldfish or anything else.’

  Although I could offer a cat I suppose. No, Harriet, think how distraught Margarita would be.

  ‘She’ll get it, I promise there won’t be a problem,’ says Fiona, popping a Valium into her mouth. ‘Isn’t that right Harry?’ she finishes looking at me hopefully.

  No, it’s not right. I’ve had it with everyone now. I was really nice to young Jack and look what he did to me. I was a good girlfriend to Julian and look what he has done to me. No, enough is enough. My whole life has been ruined because of all this. To top it all I meet someone who I actually really like and he can’t stand me and all because of Julian and the bloody Jacks. I am going to avoid all people whose name begins with a J in future, unless it’s Johnny Depp, of course. I’ll make an exception then. If I didn’t have all this debt hanging over me I would tell Brice the truth. What a mess.

  ‘You bloody get it if you’re so keen,’ I snap at Fiona, turning on my heel towards the Porsche.

  ‘Nice motor. You like them porches don’t yer Mad Jack?’ he says turning to his son.

  ‘Get yourself a builder then if you like porches so much,’ I say sarcastically.

  ‘Oh God,’ groans Fiona.

  ‘You’re getting nothing else from me,’ I say firmly and grab Fiona who seems rooted to the spot. I practically drag her to the car and shove her trembling body into it. The Jacks watch me open-mouthed like three stooges. I fumble shakily with the key in the ignition and then with a screech, zoom off back the way we had come.

  ‘Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear me,’ groans Fiona.

  ‘Do shut up Fiona.’

  ‘Do you realise what you’ve done,’ she says, trying to tip pills from the bottle as I take a corner on two wheels.

  ‘Holy fuck Harriet, are you losing your mind. I certainly lost all my Valium when you took that turning.’

  I ignore her and pull up sharply outside the off-licence. I check the rear-view mirror to see if the Jacks are following us. Reassured that they aren’t and feeling quite sure that the youths standing outside the offy are a lot less intimidating than the Jacks, I climb from the car with Fiona yelling at me. I buy a bottle of whisky and stroll back to the car feeling surprisingly calm. I find Fiona fumbling around the floor crying and picking up pills.

  ‘I think you’ve lost your mind,’ she says throwing two Valium into her mouth and chasing them down with the whisky.

  ‘No I think I’ve finally come to my senses,’ I say, snatching the whisky bottle from her and taking a gulp from it.

  She drops her head into her hands.

  ‘I don’t know why you’re getting so upset,’ I say, taking a swig from the bottle. ‘I don’t care about Julian, after all, he doesn’t care about me. I’ve given them what they want. There’s no reason why they should bother me again. I’ll do my bit here with Hamilton, take the money, pay my debts and get a nursing job. I’ve got a sneaky feeling I won’t see Julian again.’

  ‘You mean they’ve …’ she lowers her voice to a whisper, ‘topped him.’

  ‘I don’t know but if they have, he bloody deserved it. I prefer to think he’s laying low until I’ve paid off all the debts. Well, he can lay low his whole life because I’m not doing it. I’m getting my life back after this is over.’

  She sighs and pops the pills back into the bottle.

  ‘You’ve forgotten haven’t you?’ she says with a resigned sigh.

 
; ‘Forgotten what?’

  ‘We were fifty quid short ‘arriet, remember,’ she says mimicking Jack Diamond.

  Oh shit. I’d completely forgotten about that.

  She whips the bottle out of my hand.

  ‘They’ll probably want more than a monkey next time and they won’t even consider an Ant and Dec. You should have listened to me. It will be a grubby hand and they’ll expect sausage and mash, and it serves you right. I kept saying to be nice.’

  Bloody hell, I think the whisky and Valium have scrambled her brain. Oh my God, she’s not had a stroke has she? She was in a bit of a state back there.

  ‘Fiona, I think maybe you’re in shock …’

  Perhaps I should take her to see Brice, after all, any excuse to see his gorgeous eyes and tanned body again.

  ‘For God’s sake,’ she screams and I almost drop the whisky. ‘Sausage and mash is cash, Ant and Dec is cheque and a grubby hand is a grand. I already told you this. You’ve messed them around Harriet and you got stroppy. Christ, you’ll be lucky if you escape being found in a back alley somewhere.’

  I shiver.

  ‘Aren’t you exaggerating a bit? It’s only fifty quid,’ I say nervously.

  ‘It’s business ‘arriet, not personal,’ she says. Crikey she’s beginning to sound like one of them.

  Oh God, how could I have been so stupid. I wonder if they’ll be happy with the cat until I can get the fifty quid sorted. Fiona sighs and I start the engine again.

  ‘Oh, I miss Alistair and I never thought I’d say that,’ she says miserably.

  That is a bad sign.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I barely slept a wink that night. My dreams were full of stags with pleading eyes, which turned into Julian’s eyes, and the stag’s head became Julian’s head minus both ears. I have to say he looked okay in the dream but everything looks okay in dreams doesn’t it. Brice Edmunds muscled himself into it too, but all I could see was my reflection in his beautiful deep brown eyes. He smiled and leaned close until his lips were only a fraction from mine, and then he became Jack Diamond holding up the pink suitcase and shouting,

  ‘Where’s me fifty quid ‘arriet?’

  I woke covered in perspiration and with a severely itchy navel. It had taken me ages to get back to sleep and I tossed and turned until light streamed through the bedroom curtains. I shower, dress and blow dry my hair. I slip on my own filigree earrings in preference to those Marcus had lent me and wander downstairs. Everyone, including Fiona, is assembled in the dining room, dressed in hunting gear. The only exception is Melanie who is wearing the most ridiculous kimono I have ever seen. She is devoid of make-up and for a brief second I didn’t recognise her. Fiona is wearing my riding breeches with a white blouse and checked waistcoat. Blimey, she really is taking to the high life.