First Horseman, The (29 page)

‘I’m certain he must have.’ He waved at the picnic. ‘So I have laid a trap for you.’

‘It is a rather obvious snare,’ she said. ‘What is the champagne?’

‘S,’ said Stafford.

‘Oh, really? S for “super”, ’ she said. ‘And the caviar?’

‘Russian Imperial Beluga, in strict contravention of the CITES accords.’

‘That is so illegal,’ she said, looking down at him, ‘but rather tempting nonetheless. Will your father be along?’

‘No,’ said Stafford, ‘he’s gone away for a few weeks.’ He held his hand up to her. ‘Can I help you down?’

‘That’s very gallant of you but I prefer to dismount in my own way.’

He stepped back and she swung down to the ground, bouncing a little. She took off her helmet and her hair fell on to her shoulders.

‘You’ve caught the sun,’ he said, looking so closely at her cheek that she thought he might kiss her.

She smiled. ‘You are perhaps the most forward man I have met all year.’

‘I must apologise for being enchanted,’ he said, looking down bashfully.

‘Don’t,’ she said.

Stafford marched into the study.

Jim looked up. ‘Bloody hell,’ he said.

‘Quite,’ barked Stafford. ‘Bloody hell indeed,’ he said, with a military clip to his delivery.

‘You’re wearing my clothes.’

‘Yes, I am. Force of circumstance, I’m afraid. Mine no longer fit and, what’s more, they are no longer in fashion.’

‘Right,’ said Jim. He grinned.

‘I have a favour to ask,’ continued Stafford. ‘In fact, several.’

‘Anything,’ said Jim.

‘I wish to take some time off, perhaps as much as a month.’

‘Of course,’ said Jim.

‘I would like to make the most of this Indian summer, if I may.’

‘Of course.’

‘I wondered if I might borrow one of the cars.’ He turned away as if to give Jim the space to say no.

‘You’re covered in straw,’ said Jim.

Stafford spun round. ‘Am I?’

‘All over your back.’

‘Oh dear.’

‘Oh dear?’ queried Jim.

‘Would it be all right …?’

Jim was pulling straw off Stafford’s back. ‘You want to borrow a car?’ he asked. ‘Of course, however many you like.’

‘And perhaps the jet?’ said Stafford, a trifle sheepishly.

‘Sure,’ said Jim. He looked out of the window. His jaw dropped. ‘There’s some bird riding over the lawn on a warhorse.’

Stafford followed his gaze. ‘Good grief, it’s Arabella.’

‘Arabella?’ said Jim. He burst out laughing. ‘Charter a yacht too.’

‘That’s too much,’ said Stafford, panic in his tone.

‘Go for it,’ said Jim. ‘Show her the bright lights – you’re only young twice.’

‘I’d better get out there,’ said Stafford.

‘See you later.’

Stafford dashed for the door, appearing a few moments later on the drive, the gravel crunching under his stride. He walked smartly towards her, about to break into a skip and a jump.

Jim shook his head.

‘Why have you come here?’ Cardini said, his voice trembling.

‘Just checking up on you.’

Cardini was sitting in a cheap armchair, wrapped in a blanket. He looked much older than he had two months before when Jim had left him lying on the ground, his leg smashed. ‘Come to see me crumble away?’

‘Yes, I have. If I could drive a stake through your heart I would.’

Cardini was nodding as he thought of his reply. He raised his mottled, gnarled hands. ‘Take a good look, child. This is your sorry future. One day you will be sitting here. You will be dying and then, as you look into the void of death, you will –’ he gasped ‘– you will know that you gave up your only chance to survive. You will have died through your own stupidity.’

‘Well, I promise you one thing. Unlike you I won’t give a monkey’s cuss.’

His mobile bleeped, it was an SMS. No one sent him SMS. Maybe it was Kate. He took it out.

It was a slap in the face for Cardini. ‘You’ll be like me one day,’ his trembling voice spat, ‘a worthless broken vessel.’

Jim looked up at him, distracted. ‘Right,’ he said. He looked back at the message. It was from some crazy foreign number and it was Jane. ‘Am I worth $100 million? J.’

He turned away from Cardini and walked out, desperately trying to call the number back. The line didn’t answer. He looked at the message again. What the hell had happened?

There was another bleep. This time it was from Kate. What? thought Jim. ‘Jim, I’m sorry for running off like that. Can we perhaps have a coffee?’

He slapped the screen to his forehead and groaned. More insanity and chaos, he thought.

Cardini raised his head slowly and peered at the nurse, his misty eye barely able to make out her features. ‘Is there a package for me?’

‘No, Professor,’ she sang. ‘Are you comfortable there?’

‘There must be a package for me.’

‘No package for you today, Professor.’

‘Can you check?’

‘Of course, Professor. I check for you every day.’

‘Please check again.’

‘Tea time first, Professor. It’s your favourite.’

‘I’m expecting an important package,’ he said slowly.

‘Yes, Professor, I know.’

‘I must have it as soon as it arrives.’

‘Yes, Professor.’

‘It’s very important,’ he said, his head nodding from side to side with anxiety.

‘Of course, Professor.’

‘Has it arrived yet?’

‘Nothing for you today, Professor.’

First published in 2012

by No Exit Press

an imprint of Oldcastle Books

P O Box 394,

Harpenden, AL5 1XJ

www.noexit.co.uk

This ebook edition first published in 2012

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© Clem Chambers 2012

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