He left them to it while the waiters, giving fearful glances at Rayn, took their order.
The meal was fantastic. Hors-D’oeuvre of seafood, followed by Escargot. Once they’d fought off the usual British reluctance, the snails proved to be a mouth-watering experience. They were accompanied by strange pieces of salad, which even Rayn had never seen before, with garlic bread.
They were a little concerned about the tiny portions, but this was dispelled when the main course arrived in huge plates absolutely full. ‘T’ bone steaks, fresh-grilled tomatoes, mushrooms in a garlic sauce, asparagus in butter, peas and French fried potatoes. An array of sauces and dips, which they had no idea how to use, accompanied by a basket of hot brown bread rolls. And yet more salad.
Amelia felt as if she was in the kitchens of heaven and Rayn had stopped talking to concentrate on eating. Extra hungry as they were, the meal was a challenge. When they had eaten all they could, and more than they should, the table was cleared and reset. Fresh glasses of ‘lemonade’ appeared and Felix stopped by to enquire after their well-being.
“Absolutely gorgeous,” they enthused, eyes a little too bright, faces a little flushed by the small but unfamiliar amounts of wine they’d taken.
The girls had eaten until they were bursting and were aghast when a trolley arrived and, accompanied by ‘oos’ and ‘ahas’ from the other tables, flames reared up from a frying pan and ‘Crepe Suzette’ was placed in front of them.
They tried; they really tried. The taste was exquisite and their taste buds demanded more, but in the end they had to assure the table chef it was themselves that had beaten them, not the food. Amelia smiled when she saw one of the waiters’ hand the other a five-pound note and gave a shrug.
Amelia paid the bill and left a hefty tip. They were about to leave when Felix returned and presented her with a box tied with pink ribbon.
“Your birthday cake, Miss. I trust the staff will be released from the obligation of singing that hideous ditty?”
“Yes, yes,” cut in a desperate Rayn. Her face had gone a strange colour and she looked quite unwell. “Amelia, let’s go. Now!” she said.
“I’ll call you a taxi,” said Felix. “Please give Mrs Jaxson my fondest regards.”
“You know my mother?” Amelia said.
“Oh yes, many years now. She’s been supplying our restaurant for years. It’s nice for me to show off. We don’t do this for everyone, you know. I do wish we could have given you our special evening table. It would have been a night to remember.”
Amelia was trying to imagine how the evening could have been improved on when Rayn suddenly said “Oh God” and turned and fled to the door marked ‘Ladies’. The expression on Felix’s face didn’t even flicker. He snapped his fingers and a matronly woman in a business suit left reception and followed her.
Unperturbed, Amelia continued to question Felix. “I didn’t know, about the flowers I mean. We don’t supply you from the shop, do we?”
“No, we buy direct from her wholesale firm.”
“Her what?” Amelia was incredulous.
“Oh yes. I thought you knew. The Lucy Lacey Imports is a well-respected firm. They can get produce from places nobody has ever heard of. Wonderful woman. I do hope she and the good Doctor can…Ah! Your taxi is here. Will your friend be all right?”
Amelia sat in the taxi, wondering if she were about to lose her dinner or her mind. She couldn’t talk to Rayn, who was curled in the corner clutching her stomach and wallowing in self-pity.
Lucy Lacey imports? she thought. Who’s Lacey? She knew it wasn’t her mother’s maiden name because, for some reason, her father had taken her name, which was Jaxson. She never did think to ask why. Why hadn’t her mum told her about the import business? And who was ‘the good doctor’ that Felix had referred to? Had she miss-heard him? Was it the wine? Had she suddenly space-warped into an alternative universe? These were just some of the questions which were jostling for prominence in her mind. Unfortunately, her stomach intervened and won the argument.
“Can you stop please, driver. Now!” she said, desperately, and throwing herself out of the door she retched into the bushes.
“Tanking you for nodin my taxi,” said a familiar voice. It was the Portuguese Hungarian driver who they’d upset before. “Donna you worry,” he said as he gave her some kitchen roll to clean up with. “I donna tell nonbody. You kids okay?”
Rayn hadn’t even noticed and Amelia sat back in the car trying to shake off the after-effect of a definite ‘after’.
***
The next morning was a disaster for the two girls. They tried to help with the frantic activity in the shop, but found they were more of a hindrance than anything else. Amelia’s mother packed them off out of the way and they withdrew to the bedroom and abandoned themselves to their self-inflicted predicament.
It gave Amelia the chance to tell Rayn about the conversation with Felix. Rayn sat quietly for a moment before replying. “You know, Amelia. I hate to say I told you so, but I really, most definitely, absolutely did say that I told you so.”
“Told me what?” replied Amelia, with little enthusiasm.
“That something was going to happen. I’m just sorry I missed it.”
“The thing is, what do we do know?” asked Amelia.
Rayn, who had taken the swivel chair, turned to her friend. “Let’s break it down. We’re not going to find out who the ‘Good Doctor’ is without asking direct questions, so that’s out. All we’ve got to go on is the ‘Lucy Lacey Imports’. What a lovely name that is. It’s much nicer than Jaxson, don’t you think?”
“Rayn! Shut up and concentrate,” said Amelia, sharply.
“Oh yes, where was I? Did he say Imports or Import Company?” she asked.
“I don’t remember,” Amelia confessed. “Why?”
“Because if it’s a company, I think there’s a register. You know, directors, share prices, that sort of thing. I’m not really sure, but maybe we can investigate.”
Amelia stared at Rayn in disbelief. “Oh yes? What do we do? Put our hacker hats on and go diving into cyber space? You know that we’re not that good. Homework is a long way from industrial espionage.” Amelia was quite disparaging in her tone.
“I thought perhaps you might know somebody. I definitely don’t,” replied Rayn, sitting back in her chair and massaging her stomach.
“Not off hand. We’d have to find someone.”
“By the way,” continued Rayn. “Thanks for a great day out yesterday. But if you threaten me with this next year you’re going to end up as the centrepiece at our next hog roast.”
Amelia laughed wearily. “Then it wouldn’t be a hog roast, it would be an Amelia roast,” she pointed out.
“Whatever,” said Rayn. “Our hog roasts were anything we could steal. One year we ended up with about thirty chickens.” Rayn put her head back and closed her eyes. Her mind reached out to clutch at familiar images. “Every Christmas a bunch of us would get together, as many as ten caravans sometimes. Huge bonfire, spit roast, crates of Guinness, barrels of cider. We’d make up loads of winter salad potatoes in the embers.” She opened her eyes and Amelia noticed they’d gone misty with the memories. “We’d sing and dance and tell tall stories,” Rayn continued.
“Sounds fantastic,” said Amelia, feeling the atmosphere.
“Oh, it always ended in a fight; all in, women and kids as well. It was great fun.”
“Do you miss it?” Amelia asked.
“Yes and no. For a time it was all I’d ever known, but now I’ve discovered there’s a world out here, I’m not so sure. Christmas to us was just an excuse to get absolutely rissoled. There was no real meaning to it, but now you’ve told me about the Solstices and the spring and summer equinoxes being just seasonal markers, it makes more sense than religion” Rayn became quite melancholy.
“I’ll tell you what we’ve got to do,” announced Amelia as she jumped up off the bed after a long silence. “We’ve got t
o go and thank George for his Christmas present.”
“Can’t we do it tomorrow?” Rayn almost pleaded.
“No. It’s Sunday today. We’re back at school tomorrow, remember? And despite all that’s going on right now, we owe it to him, even if he does have some ulterior motive.
“Oh yeah,” Rayn’s melancholy turned to despair. “The nightmare continues. Amelia, I hate that school. I’ve got to get out of there.”
“I don’t think they’ll be begging you to stay, Rayn. Don’t forget, it was only your second day when the Headmaster committed suicide,” Amelia reminded her. “But you’re right. I’ve got to get out of there as well.”
“What worries me,” said Rayn, “is whether this is our own idea?”
“Oh don’t! I can’t cope with that conspiracy thing today,” wailed Amelia.
Rayn continued as if she’d not heard. “Come to think of it, perhaps the purpose of all this has been achieved?”
“What do you mean?” said Amelia, exasperated.
“Well,” answered Rayn. “We’ve met each other, and we’re too much alike for it to be an accident. Melkins is dead, we’ve got the book and Miss Collins has quit. Maybe we’ve finished with the school and it’s time to move on?”
“Rayn Mgee, I’m going to get your mother to bury you alive in earwigs. Let’s go and find George.”
As they entered the garage, George greeted them heartily. He rose from his old armchair and, despite their suspicions, they both gave him a hug and made a fuss of him. His face beamed with pleasure at their enjoyment.
“I couldn’t wait till Christmas, and I couldn’t buy them for you,” he explained. “Nigel wants to step up your training and you both needed some decent sports shoes.”
“Stepping up our training?” repeated Rayn. “Why?”
“He said he wanted you up to the top level by spring. Do you know where he is, by the way?”
Amelia noticed Nigel’s Harley in the corner, still covered up by its old silk parachute.
“He’s not here then?” she asked, disappointed.
“No,” said George. “He left here this morning in a clean shirt and a ton of aftershave.” The girls looked at each other, smiled but said nothing. “There must be a woman involved. Anyone we know?” he asked.
“Sorry Granddad. If he wants to tell you, that’s up to him. We try not to gossip,” answered Amelia.
“You speak for yourself, Amelia Jaxson,” retorted Rayn.
“We’re just off to Rayn’s place to see to Horace and feed the dogs.” It was all Amelia could think of to change the subject.
“That’s lucky,” said George. “I’m just off to the Hall. I’ll drop you off.”
“Tetherington Hall? On a Sunday? What’s the emergency this time?”
“They want to see if the old mill can be converted into student accommodation for the summer,” he told them.
“And can it?” asked Rayn.
“I expect so, but I won’t know till I look,” he answered.
“Could you look in on Horace while you’re there? You know, about his shoes?” Rayn asked.
“I was down there yesterday,” said George. “He’s fine. Just getting a bit old. A feeling I’m very familiar with,” he said with a laugh.
He dropped them off and Amelia and Rayn watched as his old battered truck drove off up the gravel drive and into the trees. Rayn stared into the line of trees where the truck had disappeared. It was at the foot of a steep slope that climbed for some distance. The hill was so heavily wooded that she couldn’t see the truck or the drive.
“Well, I know when I’m being lied to,” announced Rayn. “It’s part of my gypsy upbringing, and that man was lying, on several different levels.”
“I thought so too,” replied Amelia. “Thank you for confirming it. You mean about Nigel wanting to up our training?”
“Yes, and about his reason for his visit. I’m not even going to ask why.” Rayn answered.
“I’m glad he was lying about that. That’s my training camp. I don’t fancy sharing it with a load of builders,” said Amelia.
“So where’s the Hall?” she asked.
“No idea. Somewhere over the hill. I’ve never been up there, or met anyone who lives there, come to think of it.”
“It’s not open to the public then?”
“No. The place is a complete mystery to me,” Amelia told her.
As they made their way along the overgrown path, Rayn suddenly stopped.
“What’s…” Amelia was cut short when she saw Rayn’s hand raised for silence. “What’s up?” she whispered.
“Someone’s there,” Rayn whispered back. “And I can’t hear the dogs.”
“Don’t they usually bark at strangers?” ask Amelia.
“That’s what’s wrong. They should be coming to greet us,” said Rayn. “Amelia, do me a favour and do your sense-feely thing.”
“I can’t just turn it on, you know,” snapped Amelia.
“I know, but give it a try, please.” Rayn had become quite anxious.
“Oh good grief. All right.” Amelia put her head back, nose in the air, and the next thing she knew she was crouched on the ground like an animal. Her head went back to an impossible angle and she took a deep breath. She stood up, absolutely amazed with herself.
“Rayn! That was incredible,” she blurted out.
“Who’s there?” insisted Rayn, as if Amelia did this sort of thing all the time. Somewhat deflated, Amelia replied. “Caz and Claire. Horace, Jude and Gypsy said hello.”
“What?” said Rayn. “What’s going on?”
“Let’s go and find out. It’s okay, there’s no danger,” Amelia reassured her.
They entered the clearing and were greeted with the sight of Horace, standing with his huge head over the gate looking very pleased with himself. Sitting on the top bar were Carrieanne and Claire, either side of Horace, hugging and stroking him and feeding him something from a paper bag. Jude and Gypsy were seated below them, watching the bag intently.
“Hi guys.” Amelia knew it was not the most original of statements, but she had to speak before Rayn. She had no idea how her friend would react to this ‘invasion’.
Rayn was surprisingly calm, under the circumstances. “Hello you two,” she said, sounding almost pleased. “What are you doing here?”
Carrieanne, looking guilty, climbed down. “Oh Rayn, I’m so sorry,” she said. “We were just passing and we saw him. Isn’t he magnificent? We’ve never seen one of these before.”
“So we thought we would just stop and say hello,” added Claire. “Is that all right?” The sisters looked at Rayn, innocently. Rayn’s face split into a wide grin and Amelia considered ducking for cover.
“That’s the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard,” replied Rayn, unable to resist the obvious response.
Claire leapt off the gate, her eyes on fire. “Don’t you dare talk to us like that!” she demanded, ready to defend them both.
Carrieanne broke into a smile, recognising the words. “It’s okay Claire, she’s joking. It’s fine. How did you know?” she asked Rayn.
“Well,” said Rayn, grateful for the chance to show off. “Your explanation was too well rehearsed, and your expressions were like badly made masks. Also, you’d never get to Horace or past the dogs on your first visit. Oh, and by the way, I know when I’m being lied to.”
“I deserved that, Rayn, and I’m sorry,” Carrieanne responded.
“Actually, I’m really pleased to see you again,” said Rayn. “What are you feeding them, by the way?”
“Sugar lumps. I hope that’s all right for them?” said Carrieanne. “Only we’re not too sure how much is too much.”
Rayn burst out laughing. “Too much?” she said. “The dogs are okay, but look at the size of Horace. He could eat a whole sugar factory and stop off on the way home for doughnuts.”
They all laughed together and the tension was gone.
“How often do you get do
wn here then?” asked Amelia. But just then Horace put his massive head over the gate and pushed Claire in the back. “Ow! What was that for?” she complained.
“Er, you’re still holding the bag,” Rayn reminded her.
“Oh yeah,” she said. “Sorry Horace.” and she climbed back up.
Carrieanne turned back to Amelia and Rayn. “Not as often as we’d like,” she said answering Amelia’s question. “It takes a lot of organising. Mostly Sunday afternoons. Mum and dad go off to Sunday lunch with the Bishop and his cronies. It gives us a chance to sneak out for a couple of hours. Then we have to watch to see if anyone is down here. If there is, we go down to the weir and hang about there. And it depends on the weather, of course.”
“That’s all right Caz,” said Rayn. “You don’t have to sneak down here anymore. You have an open invitation to come and visit any time you like. I’ll tell Mum, and if she’s in just call out ‘Hello the caravan’. Okay?”
Claire jumped down and threw her arms round Rayn. “Oh, thank you Rayn. You don’t know what this means to us.”
“What! A chance to feed a horse?” questioned Rayn.
“No,” answered Claire. “Your friendship. You’re all we have.”
“We don’t have any friends, either,” said Rayn, looking at Amelia.
“Ah, but that’s by choice,” responded Amelia in defence.
“We think,” concluded Rayn.
Amelia rolled her eyes. “Not today please,” she said, looking at Carrieanne. “Did you get that interview published?”
“Oh yes. It went down a treat. Here, I’ve got a copy. Do you want to read it?”
Amelia nodded and, taking the magazine, she sat on the caravan steps with Rayn and they read it together.
It was a good article. She’d stated facts, built some tension and ended with a question. It was also totally unlike Rayn’s version, but much more believable.
“Hey!” Rayn piped up, more to hide her embarrassment than anything. “Have you met Daisy and Dexter?”
The Chrysalid Conspiracy Page 19