Manservant
Page 24
“What’s wrong, posh boy? I thought you liked it rough,” Frank said, standing over him.
“Somebody call the police!” Lord Shanderson started to scream. “This is common assault!”
Frank started laughing.
“Really? Are you absolutely sure you want to get the police involved? Because my problem is, once I start talking, I never know when to stop.”
Lord Shanderson instantly fell silent, and noticing one of the guests fumbling with his mobile phone, started to panic.
“Erm, no need for that,” he spluttered. “Just go.”
Frank slipped his arm around me and began to steer me toward to the door.
“Erm, Gowers, where do you think you are going?” Lord Shanderson shouted.
“I’m going home, Drummond. Good-bye.”
Outside the bothy Frank’s London taxi was waiting with the engine running.
“You getting in or what?” Frank said.
“What made you come for me?”
“Bloody hell you were drunk!” Frank laughed. “This was your idea. You texted me last night, remember?”
I thought about it for a second, and tiny fragments of what I’d written started coming back to me.
“Well, I’m glad you did,” I said, kissing him on the lips. “But we’ll need to stop off and get my stuff from Rose View.”
“All sorted, mate,” Frank said, pointing to two large bags in the back of the cab. “A nice kid called Kylie answered the door when I turned up at the castle. She told me where to find you. She even came with me to Rose View and helped me pack up your gear.”
I couldn’t believe it: Of all people to come to my rescue, it was Kylie! Who’d have thought?
“So?” Frank said, holding the passenger door open as if I were a paying customer. “What’s the hold up?”
“I think it’s about time I got to sit in the front, don’t you?”
“You’ve obviously never noticed before, Anthony.” He laughed. “But London taxis don’t have a passenger seat in the front. Just jump in the back and be quick about it. We’ve got quite an audience.”
I looked over his shoulder and saw practically all of the guests staring open-mouthed from the windows of the bothy. And then in one final act of defiance I flung my arms around Frank’s neck and kissed him hard on the mouth before breaking away and sticking two fingers up at the lot of them.
As Frank slowly drove away, I chanced one last look back. I’m not sure what or whom I wanted to see, but what I wasn’t expecting was to catch a glimpse of Vera, standing just out of sight of the guests, clutching her sides and laughing uncontrollably.
As the tall iron gates to the estate came into view, I suddenly thought of something I knew Frank would never have known to collect from the cottage.
“We have to turn around, Frank,” I said.
“Don’t worry. Everything you need is in those two bags; let’s just get out of here.”
“No, you don’t understand—just take me back to Rose View. I have to get something really important.”
Frank didn’t look convinced, but he turned the taxi around anyway and drove the short distance to Rose View.
“You wait here; I’ll be really quick,” I said, before dashing into the cottage.
A few minutes later I was back in the cab and passing through the gates of Castle Beadale for the very last time.
“Where are we going by the way?” I asked, sticking my head through the sliding glass panel.
“You are coming home with me,” Frank said, keeping his eyes on the road, but reaching over to stroke my face. “So what’s so important you had to go back to the cottage?” he asked.
I stuck my hand in my pocket and stroked the cool, smooth surface of my Bar Italia espresso cup like a talisman.
“Oh, it’s nothing really. Just something I like to keep with me for luck.”
Photo by David Myers
Michael Harwood is one of the UK’s most sought after private chefs, with clients on both sides of the Atlantic. He has cooked for Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip, The Prince of Wales and the Duchess of Cornwall; Prince William and the Duchess of Cambridge; as well as being the executive head chef at one of London’s grandest private residences. He has also worked in many of Britain’s surviving stately homes. Michael has authored two cookbooks, Miniature Feasts and The Ultimate Insanely Super Hot Chili Pepper Cookbook. He lives by the sea in Brighton with his partner, Alan, and their French bulldog, Reggie. They are passionate collectors of art and antiques and spend way too much money on both. Visit him on the Web at mjharwoodauthor.com.
All names, characters, events, and places in this novel are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, incidents, or locales is entirely coincidental.
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
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Copyright © 2015 by Michael Harwood
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Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-1-6177-3311-6
First Kensington Electronic Edition: March 2015
ISBN-13: 978-1-61773-311-6
ISBN-10: 1-61773-311-3