He hummed as he took his shower, selecting the lotions and shower gel that Crystal liked, he would leave nothing to chance. He brushed his teeth, the regulation fifty strokes, fronts and backs and flossed carefully, he even brushed his tongue. After the shower he sat on the loo seat and cut his fingernails, and his toenails. Careful to clean under the nails at the same time, he couldn’t abide dirty fingernails, the sign of a dirty mind, his mother always said.
Two doors further along the corridor, at about the same time, the driver of the second car had opened their curtains today in total dismay. What an absolute disaster. There was snow everywhere and the front rooms of the pub totally overlooked the green and the cottages. How on earth would a person negotiate that track, without being seen? It would be possible to sneak out of the back door of the pub, but the lane was wide open now, the snow forming a perfect backdrop for miles around, highlighting every little detail. Just walking over the green or along the lane on foot, would provide a clear view to anyone interested in the cottages or their inhabitants.
There must be another way? Time was of the essence, there wasn’t a moment to lose. The Land Rover was back at the cottage this morning and Crystal might leave at any moment. She had to be stopped, at least alerted to the current situation. There were lights on inside the cottage, some of the occupants must be up already. Of all the rotten luck, this was proving to be trickier than it seemed.
Bernard and Fi-fi were out in the lane again. Maisie had rung to say that they’d be coming home again this morning, they’d be here by ten, weather permitting, and they’d bring mother with them, so this was the last time he’d need to walk the dog, thankfully. His shift up at the factory started at seven this morning, so once the dog had done what she needed to, he’d just put her back in her own home and she could wait there for Maisie and the others to return. His were the first set of footprints along the lane, with Fi-fi trotting along obediently by his side.
Jazz was up at his usual time, taking extra care today, he didn’t want to leave anything to chance. He was already in the shower, when his mobile rang for the first time. He’d run out of the bathroom, dripping with water and stark naked, to answer the bloody thing and come face to face with Maisie, letting herself in through the front door. By the time he’d reached the handset and grabbed a towel from the airing cupboard in the hall, to make himself decent, he’d missed the phone call. He stood in his bedroom and scrolled through the list of contacts in the address book, trying to work out who had thought it necessary to pick up the phone at this hour of the day.
While he stood there, dripping wet, he looked out at the landscape and a second question presented itself. What on earth was Maisie doing here, already? And in the snow too.
The phone rang again.
“Silver,” he barked into the handset.
“Jazz, how yadoin’? Bertie: Fleet Street.”
“Hi, you old scumbag. What can I do for you?”he brayed, in forced bonhomie.
“Need a favour old son, thought I could do one for you too,” Bertie offered.
Jazz raised an eyebrow. Journalists never did you a favour, not even old acquaintances like Bertie. “What’s doing?” he wanted to know.
“I have in my possession some very nice, amateurish, hack snaps of a guy looking remarkably like you, digging in the dirt. Does the ‘Desmoulins whorl snail’ ring any bells? What have you been up to, down there in the wilds of Wiltshire?”he laughed, gleefully.
Jazz cursed.
“Now, now. That’s not good language with which to start the day, my old mate. You know the day is only going to go downhill from here on in, don’t you?”
“OK, Bertie, out with it. What do you want? Can you stop them?”
“Yup. I’m first in, and no one else has even had a glimpse of them. My girlfriend has a friend, works for the local rag where you are. I’m sure I can persuade her to forget them, her mate’s given them to me for the scoop, but I don’t have to use them. She won’t hand them on, if I ask her not to.”
“Looks like I’m all yours, then mate. So, what can I do for you?”
“Small favour. Nothing much, as it happens. A friend of a friend is down in your neck of the woods this weekend and needs a fancy dress costume for some party or other, going on tonight. Said he’s snowed in, can’t get out to fetch one. Thought my girlfriend might know someone local who could pick one up for him, but all her other contacts are off covering this thing that was going on last night. Some singer or other and a few bands, bit of a mini Glastonbury, only held in Bath? Made the local news last night? In aid of some charity or other, can’t remember the name of it. Now they’re stuck in the snow too. Weather’s appalling, more snow forecast apparently. Can you get hold of something suitable and get someone to drop it off at the local pub this afternoon? I know it’s a strange request, but this guy is a bit of a big cheese, and he puts a lot of business our way, if you know what I mean? Don’t want to disappoint him. He’s about your height, similar build, said he’s not fussy what we send him, just needs to fit.”
“Must be going to the Hunt Ball, there’s a lot of people rushing around at the last minute trying to get tickets and party gear. He’d be hard pressed to find anything locally at this late notice anyway, by the sounds of it. My housekeeper got hers all sorted weeks ago, and she said there wasn’t much left in the hire shop when she went in. Do I know him, this guy?”
“Nah, been in the States for a while. Only hit town last week. He’s lying low, by all accounts, been a naughty boy, if you know what I mean. Wife’s found out about his indiscretions and all hell’s been let loose.”He laughed, “Better make sure that costume has a mask or some kind of disguise, I get the impression he’s out pussy hunting again. Some folk never change.”
Jazz chuckled.“OK, OK, I’ll see what I can do. Might find him a fairy’s costume or something.”
There was laughter on the other end of the phone.“Thanks mate. Those negatives will meet with a sorry end, if you know what I mean.”
“Just make sure you get all of them, Bertie, especially if I have to go looking for costumes today. I’ve got a big day in the office today, you’ve set me a bit of a challenge, especially with this weather. I owe you one. See you.”
He snapped the phone shut and pulled his dressing gown down, off the hook on the back of the bedroom door, shrugging his shoulders into the garment and tying the sash tightly as he walked back out into the hallway.
“Maisie?” he bellowed from the top of the stairs.
Maisie gave a small, nervous cough from the room to his right. “In here, sir.”
As he walked over to the doorway, she walked out of the study into the hallway, duster in hand.
“I’m right sorry, I am, letting myself in here so early, before you was up like,” she began in a nervous rush.
Jazz scratched the back of his neck and wondered how to broach the ‘naked in the shower’ thing. “No problem Maisie, no harm done. I’m all decent now,” he continued, indicating the dressing gown.
Boy, this was awkward. Before Maisie had the opportunity to launch into one of her convoluted explanations, he began, “I hope I didn’t offend you, the phone rang while I was in the shower and I just ran to answer it. A business colleague needs a last-minute costume for that big do that’s on tonight, for the Hunt? You and Gordon are going, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir. That’s why I’m in early sir. I wanted to get this job, and my other one, over quickly like, so that I could get off early to get ready. I was planning on walking over, but what with the snow and everything, I got a lift on the milk float. I didn’t mean to catch you, goin’ about your business, as it were.”
She blushed, you sure saw some sights in this job. He could have posed for one of those naughty pictures, he could, like the male models on one of those calendars. Jazz with a big smile and a fireman’s hose, boy he’d look good like that. Of course, she’d managed to walk in on the x-rated version, but he didn’t look too embarrassed or ups
et about it, so why should she worry. She’d said sorry, anyhow. You took your pleasures where you could, when you got to her age.
Jazz frowned.
Maisie took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to fire her, was he?
“Would you be able to do me a favour Maisie?”
Maisie nodded, wondering what he was going to ask.
“I need to get hold of a fancy dress costume, to fit a guy about my size, for tonight? Any idea where I might find one of those, at short notice?”
For a guy? Now there was a turn up for the books. She wondered who he might bring, and why the gentleman concerned couldn’t find his own outfit. Was Jazz gay? Her jaw dropped. That would be too much of a shame, she thought. He’d been renting this house for the past six months now, and to be honest, she realised that she’d never seen hide nor hair of a female about the place. There were those rumours about him and young Crystal of course, but that’s all they were, just rumours. The pieces began to fall into place. It did make you wonder.
“It’s a man’s costume that you want?” she questioned.
“Favour for a friend. Last minute decision, by all accounts. Those tickets have been selling right up to the last minute so my girlfriend tells me.”
She breathed a sigh of relief, so that answered that one then.
“Oh, so you have a young lady now then, do you?”she asked.
Jazz thought of the beautiful Olivia, with her polished nails, perfectly coloured and styled hair and her ultra-slim fashionable figure. Cool and collected.
Visions of another, with her ragbag clothes, platinum hair awry and pneumonic breasts, jostling to escape from expensive and usually unsuitable underwear, swam in front of his eyes.“Not for long, Maisie,” he answered truthfully. “Not for long.”He gave a small smile. “So, can you help me, or not?” he asked.
Chapter10
Two New Proposals
The large, shiny rig had been shunted up under a large oak tree, taking up the whole of the farm track and completely blocking the entrance and exit to the farm.
Carrie sighed as she stamped up the hill out of the village, following Saskia’s disjointed directions. When she saw where they’d abandoned the van last night, she made a mental note to pop down to the farm as soon as possible, and make her apologies. It would never have occurred to Saskia to get the consent of the homeowner, before blocking off their property in such a way.
Inside the trailer, Saskia was already busy in the wardrobe room. She was currently rooting through boxes and cartons, pulling out wigs, shoes, stage props and lighting cables, discarding the unwanted items in a tangled heap, strewn all over the floor. She was convinced that the costume she wanted was in here somewhere.
Carrie stood by the open doorway and surveyed the mess. Someone was going to have to put that lot back, when the boss had finished, and this time it was not going to be her, she vowed.
Saskia barely glanced in Carrie’s direction as she stuck her head around the corner of the doorframe, to say hello. She merely turned abruptly to throw the latest elf costume, from her most recent film, at her long suffering employee.
“Where have you been?” she screeched, as she flung the garment across the room. “Put this on,” she instructed, without waiting for an answer.“The green tights are over there, in that dresser somewhere. You will have to go and find them yourself. I’m too busy here, with this.”She waved a hand towards the tiny dressing room, squeezed in at the furthest corner of the trailer.
“Get out of those wet things and try it on. You’re dripping snow all over the carpet,” she snapped.
She didn’t wait for Carrie to reply, just assumed compliance, as she did every day.“Where’s Phil, he’s late?” she demanded as Carrie remained motionless in the doorway.
“Trying to dig his car out of the snow, I expect,” Carrie returned, evenly.
Saskia ceased her irritated rummaging. “He’ll never get that car out of the village this morning, he’ll have to walk. Why do you think we pulled the trailer in here last night? Couldn’t get the bloody rig down the lane, once the snow started to close in for the night. I told Bob we should have left earlier, but he was the one who insisted I had to stay on for the after show party. You know what he’s like. She effected a high pitched whiny voice, “Go ahead, dahling. Mingle. Mingle.”She stamped her foot in irritation. “If he tells me that one more time, I swear I’ll sack him on the spot. I need Crystal,” she wailed.
Carrie wondered how many times she’d heard that one since Crystal had disappeared.
Saskia found what she’d been searching for and waved a skin tight catsuit and matching black furry ears in the air in triumph.“I knew this old thing would come in handy again one day. I used to look good in this. No-one will ever recognise me when I put on the furry ears and draw some black whiskers on my face. Result. Cinderella shall go to the ball tonight after all,” she crowed.
“Get me the black tights, too; while you’re in there,” she demanded, as Carrie squeezed around the end of the bed and headed for the tiny cramped dressing room.
As she searched carefully through the drawers in the immaculately tidy extension to the main wardrobe room, she wondered what Phil was planning on wearing. There was nothing in his size in the whole trailer. All of the stage costumes were designed around Saskia’s diminutive five feet three inch frame, he’d never get into any of those, and he wouldn’t want to either. She’d find it a bit of a push herself, dressing up as an elf. She had initially refused to be part of the whole plan, but after she’d had time to consider the ramifications, she’d realised that it might be one way of keeping an eye on them both and alerting Crystal to their intentions. Crystal had meant it, when she’d said that she didn’t want to be found, Carrie didn’t even have a contact phone number for her.
Saskia had dreamed up the idea of attending the Hunt Ball on the way down to the West Country yesterday. She’d been en-route to the charity benefit gig, which was just the first date in the three week tour schedule, when she had received the information on Crystal’s location and had immediately decided that she must apprehend Crystal immediately and convince her to return to work. With deadlines tight and tickets completely sold out, the venues had been booked weeks in advance. Saskia had insisted on a detour and wouldn’t be budged.
Showing remarkable patience, Phil had managed to free up just one night in the West Country on their way through to the South Coast. The tour would resume with a gig on Saturday night in Bournemouth.
Saskia’s informant had discovered that Crystal’s cousin was arranging the bash in favour of the local hunt and one of her own favourite charities was involved too. So Saskia naturally assumed that her spy could call in some favours and wangle them all last minute tickets to the ball.
Carrie felt very apprehensive about the whole thing. She’d been around Saskia long enough to be able to read her moods, and she felt quite certain that she was up to something, she’d looked really smug as she’d replaced the telephone receiver and informed them all that she’d secured the tickets.
She had no way of knowing that Saskia had only passed on the bare minimum of information to them as well, keeping some of the juicier details quite firmly to herself. The cousin was a bit on the slow side apparently, naive and trusting, and she’d inadvertently let slip that Crystal would be attending the ball too. It had been child’s play for Saskia to place a few clandestine calls. She’d easily arranged to be ‘discovered’ among the guests at the ball and photographed as she left the venue with Crystal in tow. They would blaze a trail through the weekend newspapers if she timed it right. She could imagine the grand front page heading declaring ‘RECONCILIATION’ and showing them both together, and the fancy dress costumes would fit in perfectly with her master plan.
What she hadn’t told anyone, least of all Phil, was that she intended ‘leaking’ news of his attendance at the ball to the London press as well. The photographer had been offered a hefty bonus to snap a shot of him and Crystal snog
ging in some secluded corner or other. Saskia just couldn’t resist making the headlines in the more respectable dailies and the gutter press, all at the same time.
She was well aware that Carrie thought Crystal would be attending the ball with them of her own choice and, equally, she guessed that Phil was intending to use the opportunity to resume his relationship with Crystal right under his wife’s nose. Both of their misconceptions would play right into her hands. She felt no remorse for what she was about to do. Rumour and counter-rumour were the order of the day in her profession and marriages were made and broken with careless abandon every day of the week. If Crystal hadn’t run off like that two weeks ago she wouldn’t have been left in charge of running her own PR at all. She couldn’t be blamed if she’d chosen the most sensational way of promoting the tour that she could think of, it was a rough game and she needed to stay one step ahead of the competition at all times. This particular story would run and run. They’d already garnered two extra tour dates in the States from the scandal that Phil’s affair had created over there, and Crystal’s dramatic departure had added fuel to the press frenzy. Now the whole tour was set to reap the rewards of reflected glory here as well. She’d been portrayed as a caring and benevolent employer and had taken pains to make sure that the story ran and ran. Saskia reasoned that she’d worked long and hard for this break and the tour needed the publicity, she was sure that fame and fortune would surely follow. It just needed a bit of careful handling. Any misgivings were swiftly buried under the rhetoric that if she did well, then her team reaped the benefits and rewards too.
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