Chapter Nine
‘Now we discover the truth,’ Adam remarked, lifting one of the pistols and sighting down the barrel towards the spot where a single, windswept pine rose among the gorse and heather of Chobham Common.
Elaine didn’t answer, and had been silent during most of their drive out from London. Even Jasmine’s initial enthusiasm and high spirits had given way, and she now stood a little to one side, ghostlike in the pearlescent dawn mist.
‘Ten minutes late,’ Adam remarked, glancing at his watch yet again as the sick fear he’d felt all morning gradually began to give way to relief. ‘I said he’d back out.’
‘I don’t think he has,’ Elaine answered him and Adam turned to look along the broad swathe of rough grass he’d chosen as his ground.
He saw a small group of people approaching, the silhouette of Steelhand unmistakable even through the mist, with the tails of his coat flapping around his ankles as he walked. Della, Lucy and Arabella followed behind, the last with a black doctor’s bag in her hand. Adam’s fear rushed back, stronger and sharper than before, but he turned and waited, his legs braced wide as Elaine went to meet Della. The two women spoke briefly, then came towards him, leaving Steelhand some way away with his back turned to Adam.
‘My master wishes to know if you are going to apologise,’ said Della.
‘Do it, please, Adam,’ urged Elaine.
‘Does he intend to return the apology?’ Adam asked.
‘He has nothing to apologise for,’ Della responded.
‘Then no.’
Elaine gave him a harsh look, but Adam passed her the pistol he had been toying with as they’d waited. Arabella joined the other women, all save Jasmine, who remained to one side. Adam waited, ever more nervous as Arabella worked to load the pistols, her voice quiet and deathly serious as she explained the process to the others. Steelhand stayed as he was, his arms folded, his back half-turned. Finally, Arabella was ready.
‘Gentlemen,’ she announced, ‘you may choose your weapons. Steelhand?’
Mark Langley turned and approached the group of women, his eyes, sharp and grey, briefly making contact with Adam’s gaze, showing neither hate nor fear but a cool amusement. He spoke as Arabella offered him the case of pistols.
‘So you made it, Mr Mistoffelees. I must say, I’m surprised.’
‘The surprise is mutual,’ Adam responded as Steelhand lifted one of the pistols. ‘They are the real thing, I assure you.’
‘And properly loaded,’ Arabella added, ‘which makes them every bit as effective as modern firearms. Thirty paces, gentlemen, and neither of you is to fire until you see my scarf reach the ground.’
Adam nodded and took the second pistol, stepping out onto the narrow path that led across the grass and turning his back to Steelhand. Arabella retreated, pulling the brilliant yellow scarf she wore from her neck as she went. Elaine stepped further back still to join the other women, save once again for Jasmine, who was now no more than a shape in the mist.
‘Very well,’ Arabella called out, ‘if neither party is prepared to apologise, you may begin to walk.’
Adam started forward immediately, every step seeming to take an age, with Arabella’s voice like the toll of a bell as she called out the paces. On 30 he turned, bringing up his pistol as she lifted her scarf. Then he watched it flutter down, his heartbeat rising to a painful drumming in his chest as he looked into the barrel of Steelhand’s weapon. He lowered his own again, aiming it at the ground between them, and as the scarf touched down he pulled the trigger by instinct, discharging the ball into the turf with a flash and a roar.
Steelhand stood as before, his arm rock steady, his pistol pointed directly at Adam’s chest, unmoving, expressionless. Adam froze, the muscles of his jaw and neck beginning to twitch as he waited, holding himself still only by a supreme effort, telling himself over and over again that Steelhand would not dare shoot him. He needed to speak, desperately, but forced himself to stay silent and still as the time crept on … Then, in a burst of white light and an explosion of sound and pain, he was slammed backwards, twisting as he fell, with his hand clutching at his shoulder to feel the wet and heat of his own blood before darkness closed in.
Adam awoke from a perennial dream in which The Gardener raged in pursuit between flowerbeds of impossibly tall and colourful blooms, threatening revenge for the theft of his dark rose. Only slowly did his mind clear, sensing light and warmth, before full awareness returned with a jolt as he remembered the duel. His eyes came wide and his muscles jerked, provoking a hot, bruising pain in his right shoulder even as his vision cleared to reveal a grid of white ceiling panels, an aluminium curtain frame and the upper part of a drip stand. Words reached him, seemingly from an impossible distance until a man’s head moved into his field of vision, with crinkly black hair framing a heavily lined face the colour of mahogany.
‘Awake at last,’ the man stated ‘and very fortunate too, might I add.’
He reached out to touch Adam’s neck, turning his head gently from side to side, which set off the pain once more. His shoulder and upper arm were immobile, causing him sudden fear and regret, before he realised he was heavily bandaged and in a sling. The man, evidently a doctor, stood back, frowning.
‘What happened?’ Adam croaked.
‘You were brought in this morning,’ the doctor replied. ‘You received a gunshot wound to the right upper shoulder. Fortunately – incredibly so, considering where you were hit – you managed to avoid any fractured bones, but there is tissue damage along with extensive bruising. All of which, perhaps, will teach you not to play with antiquated firearms.’
Adam nodded, unsure of what to say now that his thoughts were coming together. He seemed to be in some sort of private hospital, to judge by the look of the room. That implied they knew he had medical insurance, which in turn suggested that they knew who he was. How much they knew of what had happened was less clear, so he decided to stay quiet.
‘The police have been informed and will want to see you,’ the doctor continued, ‘but apparently young idiots who shoot themselves aren’t considered to be a high priority, so that might take some time. Meanwhile, your sister is here to see you.’
‘My sister?’ Adam queried, then sank back. ‘Oh, right, let her in.’
He heard the doctor’s voice once more, speaking from the door.
‘Five minutes, Miss Tyler. And you are?’
‘His brother,’ a deep voice answered.
Adam forced himself to lift his head from the pillow, to find himself face to face with Steelhand, with Della behind him.
‘You?’ he demanded.
‘Yes, me, Adam.’
‘You shot me, you fucking maniac! Ah, Jesus – that hurts!’
‘Hush, that’s not the official story,’ Steelhand answered, ‘and if you’ve got any sense, you’ll stay still.’
‘The official story?’ Adam was incredulous. ‘What do you mean, the …’
‘You bought a pair of duelling pistols,’ Steelhand responded, his voice calm and firm. ‘You and your girlfriend took them to Chobham Common to try them out. One went off, wounding you in the shoulder.’
‘Who the hell’s going to swallow that?’
‘Everybody, as long as you stick to the story. Otherwise … well, I won’t plead for myself, but you know how it is for Elaine. Besides, it was a mistake – you do realise that, don’t you?’
‘A mistake?’ Adam answered. ‘It didn’t seem like a fucking mistake, you murderous lunatic!’
‘It was a mistake,’ Steelhand insisted. ‘I only meant to try and break your nerve, then that man came out of the undergrowth and let his flash off, and I just pulled the trigger, by accident. Sorry.’
‘What did you say?’ Adam asked in astonishment.
‘Sorry,’ Steelhand repeated. ‘It was an accident. I’m sorry.’
‘He’s apologising to you,’ Della stated, ‘and that means a lot.’
‘Coming from him, I be
lieve it,’ Adam answered. ‘But what man? And where is Elaine? And Jasmine?’
‘Calm down,’ Steelhand advised. ‘Elaine’s fine. She wanted to be with you but I told her she couldn’t be involved, because of her job. She went home with the others. The man’s a problem, maybe. He said he was just out walking and saw us, but he was only yards away when he took the photo, and he had a seriously expensive camera. We reckon he’s a reporter.’
‘A reporter? Why, and how?’
‘Why? It’s not every day two men fight a duel over a girl. How? Fuck knows, only that somebody told him we’d be there, and that means one of us.’
Adam was silent for a long moment, trying to take in what Steelhand was saying, only to shake his head.
‘Not necessarily. We weren’t exactly discreet at the fetish market. What did you do with him?’
‘I had to let him go, didn’t I? I took the memory card out of his camera, but we haven’t had a chance to look at it yet. He had no ID on him, nothing, and we didn’t have the time to try and figure out where his car was or anything.’
‘And Jasmine?’
‘She’s yours. You deserve her, and you’ve earned her, because your nerve didn’t break. You knew I wouldn’t do it, didn’t you? It was an accident.’
‘I was pretty sure you wouldn’t, but not completely. I found out about the man you fought at Cambridge.’
‘So you know I wasn’t lying?’
‘You were a theology student at St Jude’s, with a reputation for getting kinky with the girls. You got sent down for the duel.’
‘You have been busy.’
‘You’re not the only one with contacts. And the Italian count?’
‘A small exaggeration,’ Steelhand admitted. ‘He had told me he was a count, the Conte de Corvina …’
‘That’s a type of grape.’
‘I know that now, but it sounds convincing, doesn’t it? In fact, he was a small-time con artist from Turin, and a pimp into the bargain. The lady was one of his girls, but I didn’t know that either.’
Steelhand was grinning as he finished, and for one brief instant Adam found himself responding in kind. Then the door opened slightly, the doctor’s face showing in the gap.
‘That’s enough for today.’
‘We’d better go,’ Steelhand stated. ‘Later, yeah?’
He put his fist out and, after a moment of hesitation, Adam responded as he knew he was expected to, touching the knuckles of his left hand to Steelhand’s own. Della smiled, then bent to kiss Adam and the two walked from the room.
‘Idiot,’ Adam muttered to himself as the door closed.
Adam closed his eyes, struggling to fight down his feelings of anger and chagrin. Objectively, he knew they were unjustified, and that the two-hour interview with the police sergeant had been a masterpiece of acting and misinformation, but that only went so far to make up for having made himself look like a complete fool. Yet the officer had gone, muttering about the consequences of Adam’s actions, but without stating anything specific.
He’d been in the hospital for three days, growing increasingly bored and frustrated. Steelhand hadn’t been back, and none of the others had visited, while the frequent messages of support received on his phone had only made him all the more eager to see his friends, especially Elaine. And as for Jasmine? His feelings for her were ambivalent right now, swaying from the need to hold on to her and never again let her out of his sight to an equally powerful urge to take his belt to her in genuine anger.
His shoulder remained stiff and painful, although he had been assured he would make a full recovery. The rest of his body certainly seemed to be in full working order, including his cock, which was embarrassingly stiff every morning, to the point at which he’d seriously considered asking the buxom Filipino nurse for relief. Only the somewhat awkward use of his own left hand had helped to soothe his need, but while recent events had left him with no shortage of erotic memories to concentrate on, the effect on his muscles left his teeth gritted in pain by the time he reached orgasm.
With the police sergeant gone and a long, warm afternoon with nothing to do ahead of him, his thoughts had soon turned back to the pleasures of sodomising Jasmine and putting Elaine in her nappy, although with the work of the hospital in full swing, he didn’t dare so much as slide his hand under the thin, grey-green medical gown that was all he had on. Grimacing, he tried to turn his mind to something other than sex or the possibility of ending up in court, and he was glad of a tap on the door, even if it was only one of the staff – although they didn’t usually bother to knock.
‘Hello?’
The door moved slowly open, stopping when the crack was perhaps three inches wide to reveal long, ash- blonde hair and a frightened, elfin face.
‘Jasmine?’
‘Can I come in?’
‘Yes, of course.’
The door opened a little wider, to show her red dress and a line of toes peeping out from the tip of a silver leather sandal.
‘Are you cross with me?’ she asked.
Adam drew in his breath, wanting to start the long, harsh lecture on her behaviour which he’d perfected and then rehearsed a dozen times over the previous days, but unable to do so. It felt like being angry with a kitten.
‘No,’ he sighed. ‘Come on in.’
‘I’ve brought you some chocolates.’
She entered the room and closed the door behind her, still somewhat wary. Placing the chocolates on his bedside table, she sat down on the end of the bed, her hands folded in her lap and her big, pale eyes peering out from beneath her fringe. Her mere presence was having an inevitable effect on his cock, which as always reacted without reference to practicality, stiffening up ready for sex even in the most socially impossible situations.
‘You ought to be very cross with me,’ she said. ‘I deserve it.’
‘I imagine you do,’ he answered, ‘but …’
‘Elaine called me a selfish brat,’ Jasmine went on, ‘then she spanked me.’
Adam closed his eyes, trying hard not to imagine Jasmine across Elaine’s knee, undoubtedly with her panties down for a genuine punishment spanking. He failed, his cock now making a noticeable bulge in the bed sheets. Jasmine saw it and giggled.
‘You still like me, then?’
Adam groaned. ‘You have no idea what you do to me, Jasmine, you really don’t. Sometimes I don’t know whether to cuddle you or slap your face.’
‘Both?’ Jasmine suggested. ‘I quite like having my face slapped, especially if I know I’m going to get it on my bottom next.’
‘Oh God …’
‘Are you OK?’
‘No, you dozy little tart! I’m not OK. I’ve been shot, and if it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t have been shot, and yet I still want you so badly …’
He trailed off as Jasmine gave him a coy look.
‘It wasn’t all my fault,’ she said. ‘You didn’t have to fight Mark, but … but I’m glad you did. Nobody ever fought for me before.’
‘What about Paul, the almost-husband?’
Jasmine shrugged.
‘Sort of, I suppose, but not physically. You’re very brave.’
‘I’m an idiot, a pig-headed idiot, but not as big an idiot as Steelhand. OK, so the guy with the camera gave him a shock, but why did he even have his finger on the trigger if he didn’t mean to shoot me?’
‘He respects you now and says I’m yours, to keep.’
‘I didn’t want his respect,’ Adam answered, ‘but I did want you, or rather, I didn’t want him to have you. Have you seen him?’
‘No. Elaine won’t let him near me. She’s furious.’
‘With me too, I expect,’ Adam answered with sudden regret, although Elaine’s texts had shown more concern than anything.
Jasmine didn’t answer, now looking down and fidgeting with her own fingers.
‘She has every right to be,’ Adam went on, ‘but still, it could have been worse, and I do have you.’
‘Do you still want me to stay with you, then?’
‘Of course I do,’ he answered, without hesitation. ‘Although I might have to keep you chained to the wall.’
‘That was fun, while you were in Oxford,’ she told him. ‘I thought it was all a game, Adam, just for fun, to turn me on, maybe. I didn’t even realise you’d have real guns until we were driving down to the common. You’re right to call me a dozy little tart. That’s what I am, a stupid little brat who always gets her friends in trouble.’
‘You’re not stupid – not at all,’ Adam insisted. ‘But you never really had a chance, did you, with your parents’ religion. I’m surprised you didn’t run away earlier.’
‘I would have done, if it hadn’t been for Grandpa. He hated the whole religion thing, really hated it, but he always said I should bide my time and come to live with him at The Gatehouse once I was old enough. He died too soon.’
‘I’m sorry.’
Jasmine looked as if she were about to cry and Adam went on quickly, eager to cheer her up but not wanting to change the subject and risk looking insensitive.
‘So your grandfather used to own The Gatehouse?’
‘Yes – well, it’s part of the Foxdens estate, but he had it on a lease which passed to my parents after he died, and so we kept coming there. It was the only place I ever felt happy.’
‘I used to think you were the happiest girl in the world, and such a free spirit. I used to be amazed at the way you ran around the garden at Foxdens, without a care in the world, and never mind the dreaded Gardener. When I crossed that wall it was as if I was making a dangerous expedition. Sometimes, I used to pretend that I was a British commando and he was a Nazi and sneak in to pinch his flowers. I’d be terrified, and the fear never really went away. Even when I heard him spanking you, it took guts to go over.’
‘But you did it, because you wanted to be my White Knight. That was sweet.’
‘That’s true, I suppose,’ Adam went on, ‘but I wasn’t just being chivalrous. I thought there was a chance I might see your bare bottom.’
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