‘Nonsense. The police station is a couple of roads back here, further up the hill. That’s where you have to go first, isn’t it? But, you’d have to cross two streets to get there. If you were on foot and they tried to mow you down … Take no notice, I’ve a vivid imagination.’
‘So have I.’
‘Got it!’ She clicked her fingers. ‘We borrow some of Orlando’s gear. How do you fancy wearing pink jeans, a Hawaiian shirt, a shaggy fur jacket and a beanie cap? Oh, and bovver boots? You hop on the back of Hari’s bike, and off you go. They’ll think you’re Orlando and leave you alone.’
His face was a picture. ‘What!’ Surprise was followed by horror, followed by consideration, followed by a reluctant grin. ‘Do I have to carry a handbag as well?’
‘A leather satchel slung over your shoulders, with your ordinary clothes and your laptop inside.’
‘I draw the line at the boots. Anyway, they wouldn’t fit me.’
‘I don’t suppose any of it will fit you too well, but if it gets you off and away safely, it’s worth a try.’
‘But if they think I’m still here, they might try attacking this house.’
‘Not if we send Orlando out soon afterwards, wearing equally colourful gear. Hopefully that will give them double vision. Have you ever ridden pillion on a motorbike?’
‘In the dim and distant, yes. But now, at my age? Have you?’
‘Yes,’ she said with a reminiscent smile. ‘It was both frightening and exhilarating. And getting where I wanted to go in a hurry saved a life.’
He groaned. ‘What happens if I fall off?’
‘I visit you in hospital. I’ll go and persuade Orlando to help us out.’
He caught her wrist. ‘What about Anna? I asked Dilys, who said Anna was fine and still asleep. She said I wasn’t to go in and upset her, so I haven’t. I feel badly that she’s the one who’s got hurt.’
‘I’ll put my head round the door and see if she’s awake. Come on. Work to do.’
As they went out of the door, his phone rang. Bea pushed him up the stairs ahead of her, while he took the call. He nodded, said a few words into the phone, and signed off. Only for it to ring again as they reached the landing. He said to Bea, ‘I like to check with all my managers every morning at the moment.’ And into the phone, ‘Yes … yes. Good. And tomorrow you’ll …?’
As he clicked off that call, another came in. Bea left him on the landing and continued up the stairs to winkle Orlando out of bed and explain what was needed. Dilys arrived, not wanting to be left out of the fun.
‘What a laugh!’ was Orlando’s comment. ‘But, no one could ever mistake him for me.’
‘Oh yes, they could,’ said Bea, determined not to listen to reasonable comment. ‘Long enough for us to get him away from here, anyway. Then shortly after, you can leave, too.’
‘I’m not working this morning.’ But he got out of bed and starting rummaging through his bags of clothes, holding this and that up, shaking his head and throwing it down again. Dilys picked up everything he discarded, hung some up in the wardrobe, but retained a few items she thought might be suitable.
With an armful of clothing, Bea and Dilys descended on Leon, who had strayed, still talking on his phone, into Bea’s bedroom. They dressed him between them. The jeans were on the short side: a virulent pea green and, with a belt on, they hung low on his hips. The T-shirt was bright yellow and clung tightly where it should drape. The long-haired fake fur waistcoat was a brilliant fit, and the over-the-shoulder leather bag had a deep fringe to it. They didn’t bother with the boots.
‘No, no …’ said Leon, still on the phone, ‘that’s good news. I’ll speak … Yes, yes. Good.’
‘A beanie?’ said Dilys, holding up a woollen cap.
Bea reached up to pull one on to Leon’s head. Both women then doubled over with laughter. Leon looked like an ageing hippy, except that his hair was well cut and he had no beard. Nor a paunch, come to think of it.
‘What!’ said Leon, catching sight of himself in Bea’s long mirror. He reddened. Total mortification. ‘I can’t go out like that!’
‘It’s great!’ Dilys gasped. ‘Oh, my! Oh, oh! Uncle Leon, whatever do you look like!’
Bea wiped away tears. ‘Think of it as fancy dress.’
Orlando appeared, clutching a mobile phone. ‘Lucky I invested in another phone yesterday, and this one’s got a camera.’ There was a flash of light as he snapped Leon in his new guise. ‘Meet the new you.’
Leon swung round on him. ‘Delete that, or I won’t be responsible for the consequences.’
‘All right, all right!’ said Orlando, ironing out a grin. ‘You must admit, it would be good blackmail material for the future.’
‘If there is a future,’ said Bea. ‘Orlando, stop winding Leon up. Leon, calm down. We won’t try any make-up.’
‘Make-up?’ Leon glared. ‘If you think …! What will the bankers say if I turn up like this?’
‘The bankers will think you’re bonkers, but you can change somewhere before you get there. Dilys, can you pack his ordinary clothes in the bag for him, not forgetting his laptop and the tape I made earlier. They’re on the dining-room table. Orlando, any suggestions?’
Orlando had come down in his pyjamas, which were paw-printed black on white. He walked all around Leon, shaking his head. ‘No one would ever mistake him for me.’
‘Thank the Lord for that,’ said Leon. His phone rang again. He took the call, said, ‘Yes, five minutes. Don’t be surprised when you see how I look. Keep the bike running. I’ll get on behind you, and we’ll go straight round to the police station. That is, if no one follows us. Otherwise, I trust you to weave around till we lose the tail, and then go to the police. You can come into the station with me to make sure I don’t get molested …’ To his credit, he tried to grin.
Bea patted him on the arm and tweaked the woolly cap to a better angle. ‘That’s the ticket. Be brave, be bold, be daring. Come back safely when you’ve conquered the ogre.’
Dilys said, ‘Do you mean Daddy? He’s not an ogre.’
Leon tightened the belt around his hips. ‘If my trousers fall down in front of the police, I’ll be arrested.’
‘You’ve got to get there first. Come on!’
Down they went. The landline phone was ringing, and Bea picked it up.
It was Carrie on the phone. ‘Mrs Abbot, there’s a man in the porch tinkering with the camera. Can’t you hear the buzzer? What do you want us to do about it?’
Bea thought rapidly. Leon’s disguise wouldn’t fool anyone close to. The man in the porch had got to be got rid of. ‘Does he realize you’re on to him?’
‘He might. We went out and checked it was a stranger. I suppose he’s putting the camera back where it was.’
In which case it would give the person in the van a close up of Leon leaving the house, and that wouldn’t do, either. ‘Where’s Keith? Oh, he’s out on one of his own jobs, isn’t he? Let me think.’
Leon had his phone out again. ‘Hari’s arrived. Parked three cars along to our right.’
Dilys hoisted the leather bag on to his shoulder. ‘I think that’s everything.’
Bea said, ‘Orlando, go into the living room, see if you can get a shot of the man who’s in the porch on your camera: now! Leon, wait for me to get rid of him. Dilys, stand by the door, open it when I say, but not before.’
She dashed into the kitchen and turned the taps on, filling the washing-up bowl with water. She pulled a mop out of the cupboard and handed it to Leon. ‘Hold that till I ask for it.’
He said, ‘I need to tell you something. No one outside London seems to have been bothered. No hooliganism has been reported anywhere else. I’m not sure of the significance of—’
‘Stand back!’ Bea rushed past him, crying out to Dilys, ‘Open!’
Dilys opened the door wide.
Bea threw the contents of the washing-up bowl over the man who was standing on tiptoe, re-fixing the camera
under the porch. Woosh!
‘Whaaa … t!’ The man staggered back.
‘You silly man!’ raged Bea. ‘What did you want to get in the way for? Can’t a woman clean her front steps without having some homeless person get in the way?’ She reached back to grab the mop from Leon and swung it at the intruder. ‘Scoot! Shoo! I will not have tramps trekking their dirt into my porch. Out! Out, I say! Or I’ll have the police on you!’
The man, off balance, tottered backwards down the steps and ended up on his backside in the street. Bea flourished the mop in menacing fashion. He scrambled to his feet and made off as fast as he could … towards the florist’s van. Limping, she was pleased to see.
Description: medium height and build, all in black, wearing a hoodie. White trainers.
She waved the mop around her head. It looked like a gesture of triumph, but it happened to connect with the camera, and turned it sideways till it was pointing up to the roof. ‘Go, Leon! Go!’
Leon went. Down the steps, holding up his jeans. Hari drew up outside on his bike. With a hideous grimace, Leon got his leg over the pillion and off they went, passing the florist’s van at speed.
Bea leaned, panting, on her mop. The florist’s van was facing the wrong way to follow Leon. But it pulled out to follow him, and then stalled. They weren’t sure it was him, were they? The driver, white, shaven head, burly build, lowered the window, looking back to where the motorbike was turning into the main road. He’d missed a gap in the traffic. He hesitated, half in and half out of the parking slot.
What about Bea’s would-be camera-fixer? He reached the van and tugged on the driver’s door – stupid man! – which failed to open. He was shouting. To be let in? Oops! A car looking for a parking space nearly ran him over!
The passenger door of the van shot open, and a skinny figure emerged on to the pavement, screaming at the camera-fixer, gesticulating for him to get into the back of the van, fast! Without waiting to get his accomplice on board, the driver of the van accelerated out into the traffic but, not having waited for a clear space, was hit by a large carpet-fitter’s van. Bang!
The driver of the carpet-fitter’s van – also shaven-headed and burly – descended into the road to the accompaniment of expletives undeleted.
The traffic built up behind them. Horns blared. Drivers shouted. The driver in the florist’s van tried and failed to get his door open. His skinny passenger’s arms waved wildly, clearly suggesting that he pull back into the parking slot. The carpet fitter reached into the driver’s window, took hold of his jacket by the collar and shook him about as a terrier shakes a rat.
Bea flourished her mop. ‘Thus perish all evil-doers! That’s going to take the traffic cops to sort out.’
Dilys had her hands over her mouth, knees bent, in a paroxysm of laughter. Orlando snapped away at the scene in the street. ‘Got them. All of them.’
Bea suddenly realized she was standing on the mat, which was still buzzing, and that Carrie and another of her staff were standing at the bottom of the agency steps, looking up. She called out to the girls downstairs, ‘It’s all right. Panic over.’ She turned to Dilys. ‘Do you recognize any of the men in the florist’s van?’
Dilys peered down the road, where a number of drivers had abandoned their own cars to try to sort out the traffic block. There was a lot of shouting and gesticulating. Several people were on their mobiles, either explaining the hold-up to their workplace, or yelling for help.
Dilys said, ‘I’m not sure. One of them … but no! It can’t be, can they?’
‘Say it,’ said Bea, drawing the girl indoors. ‘Orlando, come inside!’
Dilys looked ready to cry. ‘Is it … No, I really can’t be sure, but he does look like one of Daddy’s security guards.’
‘Thought as much,’ said Bea. And to Orlando, ‘Go and get dressed, at once. You’ve got to be seen to leave the house very soon to complete the illusion.’
Orlando started up the stairs. ‘I was going to take the morning off. Suppose they follow me?’
Bea crossed fingers and toes. ‘When they’re sure you’re not Leon, they’ll leave you alone.’
Orlando reached the first landing. ‘Tell you what, nobody who had a good look at Leon would mistake him for me. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the police don’t arrest him for causing a breach of the peace, going about dressed like that.’
‘Agreed,’ said Bea, but she said it under her breath. Then grinned. She rather hoped Orlando hadn’t deleted that photo of Leon in Orlando’s clothes. If they all came out of this alive, Leon would probably pay a considerable amount for it to be erased. Perhaps she’d get just one copy printed off for her archives, to look at when she needed a good laugh.
An unkind thought? Mm. Yes. Slap on the wrist. But, fun.
She shot into the living room to see how the ruckus outside might be proceeding. Dilys was already there, half concealed behind a curtain.
‘Progress?’
‘They’ve descended to fisticuffs. The carpet fitter is getting the better of it. Oh, now the police have arrived. Do you think they’ll breathalyse the ones who’ve been fighting?’
‘Do you think they’ll want to know why one of them is wet through?’
‘He won’t be able to say, will he?’
They were both grinning. Bea realized that they were communicating as equals for the first time. ‘Well done, Dilys. You keep watch while I put the mop and bowl back in the kitchen. Then I’m going up to see how Anna is getting on.’
Anna was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking frail. The bruise on her face had ripened nicely, but she tried to smile at Bea. ‘Sorry, I’m a bit slow today. Any idea what happened to my car last night? I can go in by train, but it takes a lot longer.’
‘First, Leon has seen to everything. Your deputy is in charge of the college today, and you are not expected back until after the weekend. The battery had been removed from your car, which was why you couldn’t start it last night. An amateur at work, don’t you think? The car has been put back into working order and left at the station for you to pick up when you’re ready to go back to work. The college buildings are safe. The only damage is to the window you broke, which has been boarded over.’
‘But who … and why …?’
‘We think two of the security staff from the big house started the gas leak and left, thinking that an automatic switch would trigger off an explosion and destroy the college building.’
‘But it was they who got me out! They were really upset that I’d got locked in. They rescued me and put me on a train back to London.’
‘Either the two who got you out didn’t know about the plot to blow up the building, or they weren’t prepared to let you be killed. Take your pick.’
Anna made a wobbly dash for the bathroom. Retching noises.
Bea was annoyed with herself. She’d said too much, too quickly.
She helped Anna back to bed. ‘Could you stomach some tea? Herbal, perhaps? Some bread and butter?’
Anna looked ghastly, but resisted being tucked in. ‘I’ve got to get back. I’ve got to find out who started that leak—’
‘Either you get back into bed properly or I send for an ambulance to take you to hospital, which is what we ought to have done last night.’
Tears flowed. ‘No hospital.’
Bea handed Anna a box of tissues. ‘You’ve been very brave, Anna. No one’s doubting your courage or your willingness to be a martyr—’
‘A martyr!’ Blew her nose. Twice. Allowed Bea to pull the covers over her. ‘Herbal tea. Lovely. I’m going to sack that kitchen assistant.’
‘Revenge is a dish best served cold. Now, what shall we do about that bruise on your face? Have you any arnica? How did you get it, by the way?’
‘Struggling to get the inner door closed, to stop the gas flooding into the hallway. I sort of pulled it into me.’
Bea turned it into a joke. ‘You mean, you walked into the door? The eternal excuse of a woman
who’s been landed one by her husband.’
A weak laugh. ‘No one but myself to blame.’
‘Tea coming up. Give yourself permission to take the day off, right?’
‘May I borrow some shampoo and a hairdryer? I feel so frowsty.’
‘When you’ve had another little nap, you may borrow what you like from my bathroom next door. Now let me tuck you in, as our mothers used to do.’
Anna allowed herself to be tucked in. Before Bea left the room Anna had closed her eyes and was breathing more deeply. Good. Rest was the best doctor she could have at the moment.
Down the stairs Bea went to find Orlando, dressed to kill in fawn suede, admiring himself in the big mirror. ‘Is the coast clear?’
Bea opened the front door and looked out. Nobody seemed to be taking any interest. She nodded. ‘Ring me when you get to the tube station, to say you’re safe.’
Off he went down the road. No one seemed to be following him. Was that good or bad?
She went back to the kitchen. Dilys was there, switching the kettle on. Good for Dilys. How many were there going to be for supper, and what had she got in the freezer which might do for them? Dilys was on her mobile. Talking to Keith? Yes. All lit up and rosy. All right for some.
Bea told herself she was becoming a sour old maid, resenting Dilys’s happiness. Didn’t the girl deserve a bit of luck?
Bea was in the middle of her search for food when Orlando rang to say, ‘All safe so far. I’m going on to the office, may be back late, all right?’
Distraction. I’m being distracted.
Bea recalled Leon saying that he felt he was like Alice in Wonderland, fending off the cards. That the situation wasn’t real.
No, it wasn’t, was it?
Over the last couple of days her office phone had been bugged, a cat toy had been delivered and a camera planted in their porch. Leon had had to leave the house in disguise, his flat had been burned out, the college buildings endangered, and Anna had narrowly escaped death. Don’t forget the hate mail, either. Bea thought that these incidents had been organized by a number of different people and had probably originated in the maintenance department of Holland Holdings (Overseas).
False Impression Page 17