Liz Fielding

Tempted by Trouble


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gate was open.’

      Oh, great. She nagged about security but no one took her seriously. Except, of course, it wasn’t about that.

      Leaving the gate open was Geli’s silent protest against Elle’s flat refusal to take in any more four-footed friends, no matter how appealing. Why bother to shut the gate when there was no dog to keep off the road?

      She shook him off, cross, hot and bothered. ‘It’s not an invitation for anyone to walk in,’ she snapped, standing up without assistance.

      ‘No? Just as well I closed it then,’ he said. ‘It could do with a new lock.’

      ‘I could do with any number of new things, Mr McElroy. The one thing I don’t need is an old van. Can I hope that your arrival means you’ve realised your mistake and have come to take her home?’

      ‘Sorry,’ he said.

      ‘You don’t look it.’ He wasn’t smiling exactly, but she was finding it hard to hold onto her irritation.

      ‘Would it help if I said that I honestly believed you were expecting her?’

      ‘Really?’ she enquired. ‘And what part of “Go away and take Rosie with you” didn’t you understand?’

      He ignored the sarcasm. ‘I thought that once you’d opened the envelope it would make sense.’

      ‘So why are you here now?’

      He shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. Just a feeling that something’s not quite right. Did Basil leave a note?’ he asked, nodding in the direction of the envelope. ‘I’m a bit concerned about him.’

      ‘But not about me, obviously. Your little stunt last night could have cost me my job. Did you enjoy your salmon?’ she accused.

      ‘I have to admit that the evening went downhill right after you dumped a basket of hot rolls in my lap,’ he said.

      ‘I hope you’re not expecting an apology.’

      ‘No. I take it you didn’t get the message I left for you?’

      He’d left a message? She shook her head. ‘We were rushed off our feet last night. I didn’t hang around to chat.’

      ‘No?’ There was something slightly off about the way he said that.

      ‘Would you?’ she asked. ‘After six hours on your feet?’

      ‘It depends what was on offer.’

      She frowned and he shook his head. ‘No, forget it. I’m sorry if you got into trouble but you have to admit that while you might not know Basil, the name Bernard certainly makes you all jump.’

      ‘All?’

      ‘Your grandmother nearly passed out when I asked her if she’d had Basil’s letter,’ he explained.

      ‘Gran? Are you telling me that you came back here yesterday? After I’d gone to work?’

      ‘I called in on my way to the Blue Boar. I did tell the skinny vampire that I’d come back this morning,’ he said.

      ‘Geli …’ She smothered a grin. ‘I haven’t seen her this morning. I’ve only just got up. What did Gran say?’

      ‘She wasn’t exactly coherent, but I think the gist was that Bernard wouldn’t allow her to receive a letter from Basil. She seemed panic-stricken at the thought.’

      ‘Well, that’s just ridiculous. Bernard was my grandfather but he’s been dead for years,’ she told him.

      And yet there was obviously something. It was there in the letter.

      ‘Tell me about him,’ she said.

      ‘Basil?’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know much. He’s just an old guy with two passions in his life. Rosie and poker.’

      ‘He’s a gambler? Are you saying that he puts Rosie up as surety for his bets?’

      ‘He’d never risk losing Rosie,’ he assured her. Then added, ‘Which is not to say that if he got into trouble some of his playing partners wouldn’t take her in lieu if they could get their hands on her.’

      ‘So, what are you saying? That you’ve been appointed getaway driver and I’ve been chosen to give her sanctuary?’ It … not she. She was doing it now. But it explained why Basil had gone to the bother of registering her grandmother as Rosie’s keeper.

      ‘That’s about the gist of it,’ he admitted, stretching his neck, easing his shoulders.

      ‘Don’t do that!’ she said as his navy polo shirt rippled, offering a tantalising promise of the power beneath the soft jersey. Talk about distraction …

      Sean frowned. He didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, thank goodness.

      ‘Does he disappear regularly?’ she asked before he had time to work it out.

      ‘I wouldn’t know. I’m his landlord, not his best buddy. But he garages Rosie with me and I was in London when he took off and he couldn’t get in. It would seem that his need to disappear was too urgent to wait until morning.’

      ‘So, what? He dropped a note through your letter box asking you to bring her here?’

      ‘I’m sorry about that,’ he said, looking slightly uncomfortable, no doubt thinking that she was taking a dig at him for doing the same. ‘I assumed that once you’d read whatever was in the envelope you’d know what to do.’

      What to do?

      It got worse, she thought, suddenly realising exactly what this was all about.

      ‘I’m sorry, Sean, but if you’ve come here expecting to be paid your rent, you’re out of luck. I don’t know Basil Amery and, even if I did, I couldn’t help you. You’re going to have to sell Rosie to recover your losses.’

      ‘Sell Rosie? Are you kidding?’

      ‘Obviously,’ Elle said, back to sarcasm. ‘Since she’s Basil’s pride and joy.’

      ‘You don’t sound convinced.’

      ‘I can think of more important things to lavish your love on. I mean, how would you react to someone you’ve never heard of expecting you to run an ice cream round for him?’

      Sean thought about it for a moment, then said, ‘Why don’t I put the kettle on? I make a mean cup of coffee.’

      ‘I haven’t got any coffee,’ she said, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

      ‘Tea, then,’ he said, picking up the kettle, filling it and turning it on. He took a couple of mugs off the dresser and since the tea bags were stored in a tin with ‘TEA’ on the front—life was complicated enough without adding to the confusion—he found them without making a mountain out of a molehill. So far, he was doing better than either of her sisters ever managed. ‘Milk, sugar?’ he asked, dropping a bag in each mug.

      She wanted to tell him to go and take the van with him, but he was right. They needed to get to the bottom of this.

      ‘Just a dash of milk.’

      Was there any milk?

      ‘How about sugar? You’ve obviously had a shock.’

      ‘Of course I haven’t,’ she said, pulling herself together. ‘This is some kind of weird mistake. It has to be.’

      They weren’t the most conventional family in the world, but they didn’t have secrets. Quite the contrary. Anyone would give him chapter and verse …

      He glanced back to her.

      ‘What are you so scared of, Elle?’

      ‘I’m not scared!’

      ‘No?’