Hide in Time

by Anna Faversham

  “Lightning flashing, thunder rolling – I feel as if I’m in some sort of sinister play. Any second now a body will be found.”

  “We even have a policeman here,” stage-whispered Laura.

  “It’s obviously the butler wot dunnit,” murmured Xandra as Jeeves flicked the lamp switch on and closed the door behind him. “We’ll have to be each other’s alibi.”

  As the thunder rumbled like a timpani crescendo, Laura chuckled – until she felt that prophetic shiver. Time was goading her. “Tell me, Xandra, if you had a choice, where and when would you like to live and with whom?”

  “Where?” Xandra looked around her. “Here would suit me very well,” she said spreading her palms and her arms wide. “When? What a strange question. I don’t have a choice.”

  Laura took a sip of coffee and inhaled the pleasing aroma. “If you did, would you like to live in the past, the present or the future?”

  “Oh I see,” said Xandra. “Certainly not the future.” She thought for a moment before continuing, “I’m finding the present rather worrying. It’s not only current ‘gangland’ problems,” she sighed, “I do actually find the business of keeping up with modern day living so time-consuming. Wasn’t it that funny fellow, Kenneth Williams, who wrote in his diary something about the day being filled with chores.”

  Alluding to his suicide, Laura said, “Yes, I think he found it all too much for him.” She was quietly pleased with her knowledge of what everyone called ‘celebs’. She supposed Kenneth Williams was a celeb?

  “I have some sympathy with that,” said Xandra. “Running a business, the endless paper work, the VAT, the council tax, the car tax, the personal tax return, ad infinitum,” she said stretching her arm towards the ceiling. “I thought time was linear and kept everything from happening at once. It doesn’t seem to be working for me.”

  Laura reflected on Xandra’s words. It didn’t work for her either but in quite a different way from Xandra’s meaning; Laura had discovered something she could tell no one – for who would believe her?

  Xandra continued, “I am left with little time to create, both in the workshop and,” she hesitated before adding quietly, “I’d like to write.”

  “Write? What would you write?” asked the surprised Laura.

  “I learned a little shorthand when I was about sixteen to help with taking notes for exams and I find I am often scribbling summaries of my ideas.” In a theatrical fashion Xandra added, “I am constantly disappointed that I have no time to sit down and write Chapter One of my first great novel.”

  Laura smiled insufficiently, preferring to press on; everything was right, she shouldn’t stop now. “So are you saying, you would like to live here but not in the future or the present? What about the past?”

  “If the past could afford me time to write then I think I would opt for the past. But the past is not ours to recover.”

  For a fleeting moment, Laura had imagined herself telling Xandra all, but that last sentence reminded her of the importance of strategy – no good sounding doolally. “And with whom?” asked Laura as nonchalantly as she could manage.

  “That’s your job.”

  “I have the very man,” Laura said quietly. She sprang up, pushed her coffee cup away and said, “Xandra, we’re supposed to have followed Matt into the drawing room. He’ll blame me for talking too much!”

  Xandra leapt up to follow Laura and whispered with some determination, “So long as the man you have in mind for me is not Matt. He’s in love with someone else.”

  In love? Matt? It couldn’t be with her; Matt knew too much: he knew things could go wrong. Yet she knew Xandra’s hint was not ill-founded; those ‘touchings’ meant something. No, he was just a very good friend, knowing when she needed consoling. Her thoughts turned to Xandra. I’d miss her so much. Matt had noticed their growing friendliness and commented on their similarities – a great basis for a friendship, he’d said. If only Xandra could marry the seemingly aloof and sometimes remote Matt. But it wasn’t Matt she’d had in mind. She felt muddled still.

  Their disposition changed as they entered the drawing room. Matt and the Police Chief Superintendent stood up. It was the way they stood up which converted the girls’ mood.

  “Laura, Xandra, it might be best if you sit here on the sofa. Chief Superintendent Paul Tanner has enquiries to make. D.S. Miller is taking notes.” Matt nodded towards a previously unnoticed man in the far corner of the room. It was Xandra’s erstwhile protection officer. Matt then sat on the arm of the cream-coloured sofa next to Laura while C.S. Tanner paced in front of the imposing hearth.

  He spoke in a manner which didn’t invite interruption. “It has been verified that an accelerant in a glass bottle, probably petrol, was hurled into your premises from the door at the top of the stairs, Miss Radcliffe. That door, as you know, was then locked from the outside, trapping you inside.” He paced slowly back and forth again as if he was experiencing some reluctance to continue. He took a deep breath. “From here on, I’ll record all that is said: you have no objections I take it?” He indicated a recorder on the nearby side table then awaited their consent before pushing the button and continuing. “There is no doubt it was arson. There is no doubt it was their intention to kill you. The only question is who, and how many are determined that you shall not identify them.”

  Paul Tanner summed up the reasons he thought Xandra’s life was being threatened. The man inside the jewellers opposite Laura’s agency in Middleston had disabled the security cameras, even the one on the roof, and only Xandra had seen two of them without their balaclavas and she might also be able to identify the man inside from his exceptional ability.

  Xandra’s face was all concentration.

  “I want you to focus on the man who had gained entry to the building, but not through the front door, Miss Radcliffe. I know you’ve said you were almost totally overwhelmed by his superior skills, but I want you to relive that with me now. You squeezed your way through the shop door behind one of the men you seized by the scruff of the neck. Carry on from there please.”

  Xandra carefully went through her moves up to the point where one man had been flung against the door. She then closed her eyes and, encouraged by Matt, she recalled all that she could about the ‘master’ as she called him. “Definitely vastly experienced; a professional I would say – beyond being an ordinary instructor. He was too fast, too… well, perhaps he was in the SAS or something. Oh! There is something I haven’t told you.” She squeezed her eyes tightly. “He had a cross tattooed on the outside of his left wrist.” She rubbed her wrist.

  Nobody spoke until Xandra opened her eyes.

  “A cross?” urged Matt.

  “Like this?” said CS Tanner. He had drawn a cross on his left wrist.

  “Not quite.” Xandra paused before adding, “It was more like an X.”

  D.S. Miller approached his senior officer, murmured something, then returned to taking his notes.

  Matt’s friend wiped the cross from his wrist and drew an ‘X’. He then waved his arm around in front of Xandra.

  “That’s it!” said Xandra, “But I only saw it when he had me in a stranglehold and his sleeve was scrunched up.”

  D.S. Miller spoke confidently. “Xtra. The man is known as ‘Xtra’. He’s a stunt man. Does some phenomenal stuff. Doubles for heroes and villains and so on.”

  “Well done, Xandra,” Matt said encouragingly.

  “Thank goodness you know about such things,” Xandra said looking over her shoulder at D.S. Miller.

  “Film fanatic, that’s all, Miss Radcliffe,” responded Miller.

  “Motive? Where’s the motive? He must earn millions – why would he be doing provincial robberies?” demanded his superior.

  “He likes excitement and they say he’s too old for all the new stunts required. There was an article in the paper about his retirement plans. He sounded bitter about being forced out of the film industry and said he might set up his own company. It see
ms he has, and now gets his kicks climbing up drainpipes.”

  “Ok, Miller, you’ve redeemed yourself. So,” he paused, “let us suppose this Xtra was concerned you’d recognize him by this identifying mark.” He paused a little longer and glanced back and forth from Xandra to Matt before saying, “You’d have to be dealt with.”

  Matt surreptitiously looked at Xandra.

  “In the light of what you know now, can you add anything to your statement about your kidnap?”

  Xandra closed her eyes again. “It was all so hazy. I can only add that it was the mention of ‘the concrete boots’ that spurred me into escaping.”

  Matt raised an eyebrow at his friend.

  “Ruthless.” Walking over to switch off the recorder, C.S. Paul Tanner added, “No need to go over yesterday’s escape any more.” He dug his hands deep in his pockets, as if they might contain inspiration. “Your Ju Jitsu certainly saved your life.” He took a deep breath. “It’s late. I’ll have a full statement written up, Miss Radcliffe and send someone around tomorrow for you to sign it, if you would, please.”

  “I’ll be relieved to confirm their violence and I hope you capture them quickly.”

  “Until we do, you must not leave this house. We are posting armed officers back and front who will augment Matt’s own experienced staff who …”

  “You’re welcome to stay for as long as necessary, Xandra; you too, of course, Laura,” Matt hurriedly confirmed. Why had Matt interrupted? Occasionally Laura had the feeling he was concealing something.

  “I think it is imperative you stay with Xandra,” the detective looked Laura straight in the eye.

  Matt squeezed Laura’s shoulder gently and her qualms subsided.

  Hide in Time ~ Anna Faversham

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Unfortunately, I must leave you two alone today,” Matt said as he helped himself to some eggs and bacon and joined them at the table. “Is there anything you need me to do for you, Laura? I know you’ll think you should be at work; would you like your calls redirected? You could set up an office in the library.”

  Laura wasn’t sure she could face fetching all the paperwork or having post and calls forwarded but he’d opened up an opportunity and she wasn’t going to miss it. “Any chance I could be driven over and pick up some files and other necessities and, oh yes, bring back my own car?”

  Laura thought she could see how the smile lines had developed around his mouth; he had a way of holding a smile longer than most. Then he took a bite of toast. Still no answer. “I suppose,” he said finally, “that Rolf could drive you in the Land Rover. Could you disguise yourself, paper bag on your head, that sort of thing?”

  “I will, don’t worry Matt. I can see what a nasty bunch they are.”

  “Nasty? Laura, people who deal in concrete boots are evil!”

  Laura looked mystified.

  Understanding crossed Matt’s face. “When they said it was ‘boots for Xandra’ they meant they’d set her feet in concrete and throw her in deep water to drown.”

  Oh! Much worse than anything Laura had imagined. Still a lot to learn.

  Matt turned to Xandra. “We’re here to see that doesn’t happen, Xandra, so relax and tuck in to some breakfast. I’m sorry to have mentioned it again but Laura needs to fully understand the reasons for our precautions.” He leapt up and tugged a bell rope above the sideboard.

  “Ah Jeeves, never far away. Ask Rolf to put the Land Rover and his driving services at the disposal of Laura for today, will you please?”

  “Right away, sir.”

  You’d think it was still 1814 in this house, thought Laura.

  Xandra looked at Matt quizzically. “Jeeves? Is that really his name?”

  “He asked to be called Jeeves.”

  “Asked?”

  Laura watched Xandra’s bemused expression. It was probably much the same as hers on first hearing about Jeeves.

  “Yes, he asked. He said if he were to be called Jeeves, it would give him something to live up to. He then added a little sniffily that I wasn’t treating him like a proper butler with defined duties but more like a personal manservant, like Jeeves.”

  “What’s his real name?”

  “Xandra, it is ‘Wilberforce Sidebottome’,” Matt said raising his eyebrows. “My parents called him Billy but when they died,” Matt stalled, “I found myself having to do much more and earlier than I’d expected. He was an enormous help and so I was happy to comply. His family has worked for ours for generations and he is extraordinarily loyal; it seemed such a small request. Besides, few people want a proper butler any more. I have ‘Jeeves’ and everyone knows what I mean. He’s insisted on breakfast being served from the sideboard just because you are staying.” He took a gulp of coffee. “Feel free to raid the library if you fancy something to read, the Foxley books are fascinating. And remember, please don’t leave the house, Xandra. Sorry to abandon you both, I really am, but I’ve got matters to attend to, I’m afraid.” Uncharacteristically, he blew them both a kiss as he left.

  Xandra looked at Laura as Matt closed the door after him. “Does he always disappear on ‘matters’?”

  “Runs in the family, Xandra. I’ve tried not to let it bother me. I’ve learned to trust him. I made the mistake a long time ago of flouncing off from someone who disappeared for days on end, only to discover he was one of the finest men ever to live.”

  “Regrets,” said Xandra. “They are something I’ve not been bothered by so far.”

  “Long may it stay that way. Whereas I… I wish with all my heart I could put that right.” Matt’s words crashed into her thoughts – he wasn’t wrong. He was right. It would be the things that you could have done and didn’t that would cause you most regret on your deathbed. Laura stood, pushed away her chair, pursed her lips with determination, and said, “ I’m going to find Rolf. If there’s anything you need, Xandra, stop me before I go.” With relief, she almost ran for the door, aware that she had begun to gabble. She must not lose this chance. Then, unable to resist, she put her head back around the heavy, white, panelled door and said, “Xandra, if you could hide in time, in what time would you hide?” Anyone other than Xandra would have asked what she meant, thought Laura as she watched Xandra consider her answer.

  “I’ve often thought I was born out of time. I’d love to meet a Regency gentleman with perfect manners; someone I could respect.” She seemed far away with her thoughts. “He should also be exciting. Full of purpose. I’d be happy to hide away with him.” Most of Laura was now behind the door to the hall, just her Cheshire cat grin peered back at Xandra.

  ~

  Laura was pleased with herself. A comforting certainty had crept over her and travelling back to Torwell Bridge in her own little car, she felt she had made as many preparations as possible. As she chugged up the Pelburton bypass – there was no point in putting her foot down with Rolf following in the Land Rover – she ran over the list of things she had crammed into the suitcase. Most of her coins – sovereigns, guineas and a few smaller ones – were stuffed into a leather pouch. There would have been more had she not discovered her George III sovereigns were worth more than five hundred pounds each and sold them all, one by one, soon after her arrival. There was a cream silk charmeuse satin Empire line dress, a burgundy velvet shrug to serve as a spencer, and a long petticoat, all easily acquired from the wedding shop below her office. She’d have to forego the proper undergarments, Marks and Spencer just didn’t stock knickerbockers although, thankfully, some winter merchandise was now in the store. She’d been able to prevail upon Rolf to allow her to do some emergency shopping unwatched and buy some vaguely suitable all cotton underwear. She’d bought what she’d thought was a woollen shawl from the charity shop, then noticed it had a large hole in the middle. She’d felt so silly when the lady at the counter had to explain it was to put over your head. “A poncho,” she’d said kindly, “They’re making a come-back.” Never seen one like that before, thought Laura, but it wa
s warm and suitable for travelling, the best she could find; there was too little time to shop around.

  She’d also bought two long dresses, one in pale pink silk and the other in a blue, patterned cotton, from the wonderful Laura Ashley shop. They would establish her credentials as a ‘lady’ and the silk would serve her well when attending dances at the Assembly Hall. Those occasions, with their dance cards for different partners, were rather like a Regency version of speed dating, she thought with a smile. She must remember to cut all the labels out; imagine the consternation at the laundry if they found the washing instructions sewn into the lining. Then she’d bought three pashminas of different colours which would serve as mantles and shawls. The Golden Boot had a pair of soft leather ballet pumps; she’d had to guess the size, and that was about all she’d had time to collect. Most importantly, she’d picked up the letter she’d written using her quill and sealed with the wax from her favourite pine-scented candle. She allowed herself just a few moments to savour the thought that he would open the letter she had composed amidst tears and heart-breaking memories. It hurt too much; she must keep going.

  As she drew near to “Foxhills”, she began to worry again. She thought back to when Xandra had first showed her the bag and she’d thought it was large enough to hold sufficient gold or jewellery for the plan that seeped into her mind. But at that stage she hadn’t thought it through. There was far too much to cram into a handbag, even the large Mulberry, and any other available case would definitely be far too modern in style, apart from Matt’s leather holdall and she couldn’t use that without his being aware that something… Inspiration arrived. “VacPack,” she announced. As the car veered off the route and into a side street where she knew there was a dry-cleaners, the Land Rover behind flashed its headlights. Rolf had been patient – until now.