Silver Guilt (18 page)

He kissed me and my knees literally weakened. ‘If you're sure you don't mind . . .'

‘Of course I mind. But we can be together any time. And if your grandma's poorly . . . Now, off you go and don't give it another thought. Thank goodness the snow's turning to slush . . .'

Although Felix was nearly as good a cook as Griff, and a brilliant mimic, reducing me to helpless and painful giggles, I was glad when Griff declared that he had had a hard day doing nothing and needed an early night. Since Sussex doesn't seem to run to anything approaching a decent road, and we didn't leave till well after ten, an early night was certainly not on offer. But at last we picked our weary way into the village, and I stowed the van in the garage with its state of the art security. Nonetheless we carried the boxes with the most valuable items into the house itself.

‘Griff,' I declared, smacking my forehead, ‘I've only kept that ring Piers wanted me to sell. I meant to give it back to him.'

‘Put it in the safe, loved one. And we'll worry about it in the morning.'

‘My darling child, if I'm not mistaken you have a birthday very soon,' Griff mused, pouring his breakfast coffee the following morning. He never allowed himself (or me) to oversleep, but on days like this appeared in a gorgeous old dressing gown that he'd once worn as a pantomime Grand Vizier. I sported an embroidered silk kimono. But it was understood that as soon as we had eaten we would go and change into what Griff considered proper clothes. ‘It occurs to me that you are so attracted to that sapphire ring that it would make an ideal gift.'

I looked him in the eye. ‘Not so much attracted as suspicious, Griff. You look.' I passed the lovely thing to him. And my eyeglass.

‘The sapphire looks exquisite,' he sighed. ‘But I take it you'd like me to look at all the stones under a light?'

‘Please.'

He pottered off. I finished the toast while I waited for him to come back. It tasted like cardboard.

‘And how many dodgy stones can you count, sweetling?' He sat down heavily and reached for his coffee.

‘Five this time. If I put it in the shop I shall have to mark it sold as seen.'

‘And the price? If you do that it'll never reach what he's asking.'

I put the two rings he'd given me side by side. The splendid centre stones winked enticingly at me. I stared them down. And put the sapphire into the shop.

Buckles and buttons are a pretty specialized area, especially eighteenth-and nineteenth-century ones. I'd never so much as touched any like these, let alone tried to sell any. I certainly didn't want to repeat the experience I'd had when I'd put Lord Elham's silver in someone else's hands, so I'd have to sniff around a bit. Griff's contact book wasn't any use – the one person he thought would help was now dealing buttons at the big fair in the sky. So after cleaning them all – they must have looked magnificent on the coats and shoes for which they were made, especially glittering under candlelight – I stowed them all in our increasingly crowded safe.

‘Dear one, Aidan's phoned to ask me to lunch,' Griff declared, as I set the combination and stood up. ‘Ah – I see you've not put your ruby in there.'

‘It can live on my ring a little longer. I think.'

‘It's on probation, as it were.'

‘Exactly. Off you pop, then – I'll keep an eye on the shop. I've got some straightforward restoring to do which will keep me busy if we don't get too many customers.'

He snorted. ‘Too many flying pigs, more like. I'll take the smaller van, Lina. And – I know – I'll drive carefully, not drink very much, and phone you to let you know I'm on my way home.'

If I knew him, he'd phone, all right – and then be absolutely forced to go and have a root round Waitrose, so he'd be at least an hour later than he told me to expect him.

‘Mind you do.' I hugged him. ‘Have you got your driving glasses? Good. Remember to put them on. My regards to Aidan. Now, off you go, and have a lovely time.'

When I work on china, I tend to lose all sense of time. So it was a real surprise, when a punter came into the shop, to see that it was well after four. She talked knowledgeably about the plate I was repairing; I explained our policy of never selling restored items without a warning. Then she bought a perfect Locke potpourri vase and cover, one of those pinkish ivory ones, with a pretty pierced cover, and I promised her comps for our next fair. All very easy and civilized. There were unlikely to be any more customers, and I might as well work in the better light of my workroom in the cottage. So I gathered everything up and locked up as thoroughly as I always do.

As I let myself back into the cottage, setting the alarm for access doors only, it dawned on me that Griff hadn't phoned. Maybe he'd had an extra glass at lunchtime, and was waiting for his alcohol level to drop before he drove. That wasn't unusual, but he always phoned in to confess.

I let the worry nag at me till nearly six. Then I reached for the phone. Voicemail. Which suggested he might be on the road. Why hadn't he phoned to tell me? OK, he was a grown man, but I always worried about him when he drove on his own. Always. Just as he worried about me, to be honest. I'd learned not to let it irritate me, and I think he quite liked it if I bollocked him for letting me down.

I made myself wait another ten minutes before phoning Aidan.

‘But Lina, he left at three,' Aidan said. ‘My God, what's happened to him? Listen, I'm going to get in my car now and trace his route.' He cut the call before I could argue.

These days I didn't even know which hospital you got taken to if you were ill or in an accident. Maidstone? William Harvey, in Ashford? Not the nearest, not if the administrators had anything to do with it. So I decided to pull in a favour.

‘Morris? I need some help.'

‘Tell me.' Down the phone his voice sounded solid and unflappable.

‘There's no sign of Griff and I'm afraid he's had an accident on the road between Tenterden and here—'

‘I'll get on the phone to my Kent colleagues now,' he said. ‘And then I'll call you back. Promise.'

As I sat on the stairs, two things occurred to me. I was probably panicking needlessly. But Morris hadn't once suggested I was.

W
ithin seconds I'd got the van keys in my hand and was ready to set off – for wherever. But it made more sense to stay in the cottage till I heard from either Aidan or Morris. It was all very well driving here and there in some vague hope of finding Griff, but throughout Kent mobile coverage was poor and Aidan or Morris – even Griff himself – would find it hard to contact me. So I sat and stared at the landline phone, willing it to do something. And then I wondered if I shouldn't be putting together an overnight bag in case – though I didn't even spell out to myself what it was in case of.

I'd no idea how long Tim and I had been sitting staring at both phones begging for one of them to ring. I wasn't sure how his fur had got wet, either, but it was. I never cried. Never. Well, hardly ever.

If only I smoked or bit my nails. If only anything, and Griff was safe.

The landline rang first.

Morris. ‘He's in A and E at William Harvey. Not badly hurt. I've sent one of the local lads to sit with him until you collect him.'

‘How badly?'

‘A black eye and a bruised but not broken nose. The van's OK, but I want SOCOs to check it over.'

‘SOCOs? Why on earth?'

‘Because it seems it wasn't an accident, Lina. Griff will explain. I'll be in touch.'

I'd locked the front door and was ready to drive off when I remembered that Aidan would be as worried as I was. Nearly. So I called him. He'd got a hands-free system in his car, so he picked up the call at once. I explained.

‘I'm almost at Ashford now, Lina. I'll pick him up,' he said.

‘Like hell you will. I'm on my way.'

‘Then I can only suggest you turn round and go home. For goodness' sake, travel in your van when he could have the comfort of a Merc? If you like, you can meet us back in Tenterden.'

‘If I like! Tenterden! This is his fucking home, Aidan, and this is where he fucking belongs!'

‘My dear child, you can bring a case for yourself too if it would make you happier.' And he cut the call.

I didn't appreciate his grand concession. Before I could redial and treat him to a few more words Griff would hate, the landline phone rang again, so I dived back into the house, screaming at every second's delay as I fiddled with the locks. I grabbed the phone.

‘Hang on – I must stop the alarm.' There. ‘Who is it?'

‘It's me, Lina.'

It took me a second to register it was Lord Elham.

‘Darren was here. And something made him very angry. I thought I should tell you. Only I couldn't find your number.'

I took a deep breath. If I shouted, I'd get nothing out of him. ‘I thought we'd agreed you weren't going to let him in?' All Morris's efforts buying and fitting locks had been a waste of time.

He said nothing. No doubt Darren had waved a case of champagne under his nose.

‘OK, what made him angry? And when?' I slapped my face. Stupid, stupid cow – he could only manage one question at a time. But I underestimated him.

‘Sometime this afternoon. He couldn't find something. And said you must have it.'

‘Any idea what?' He couldn't have wanted all those buttons and buckles, could he?

‘I really don't know. But he was very angry. Please be careful when you see him.'

‘When I see him? How will he find me?'

‘He's seen your van, Lina, hasn't he?' For once my father spoke quite sharply, as if I was the dim one, not him.

‘So he has. Now, go and lock up properly so if he's still angry and comes back to take it out on you, he can't.'

‘I've got an old army swagger stick I keep under the bed. That's what you need – that sort of thing. You know what, I think you should ask Morris round. Or that young vicar chappie who's sweet on you.' He muttered something else and put down the phone.

I thought the something else might be to do with the next TV programme, so I didn't call him back.

Once again I sat on the stairs, Tim for company. If my father thought I needed protection here in Bredeham, it was, though I hated the thought, logical for Griff to stay with Aidan safely in Tenterden. But I wouldn't be taking up Aidan's terribly generous invitation. I wouldn't even if it had come with gold knobs on. Leave the cottage and shop unattended? No way. We might have a brilliant alarm system, with fire sprinklers and everything, but anyone trying to hurt us would have something else to reckon with – me.

Me and a friend, though, my father had said. And what more obvious friend than my lovely broad-shouldered boyfriend? I dialled his number, praying he'd pick up. And he did. And said all the right things about it being lovely to hear from me.

‘Piers – I'm in a spot of trouble,' I said in a rush. ‘And it'd be great if you could come over and help me out.' I explained.

‘Well, of course I'd like to help,' he said, in an apologetic tone that said more clearly than words that he wouldn't be stirring. ‘But I'm up in Leeds at the moment. At a fair. And with the best will in the world, I can't be with you before – what? Midnight? My advice would be if you're in danger, get out. You and Griff, of course. Hang on.'

I could hear him muttering to someone.

‘A mate here reckons I might make it by eleven, if the roads are OK. Do you want me to come? Mind you, I'd need to be on the road back up here by five, wouldn't I?'

‘Of course you can't come down. It'd be silly,' I said firmly, hoping to be overruled. I said all sorts of Griff-like things about driving when tired, the perils of the M25 and more – and still hoped to be overruled. But he agreed. Very sadly, very tenderly, he agreed.

‘So where does that leave us?' I asked Tim, still sitting patiently on the stairs. ‘Don't worry, if I go, you come too. But I'm buggered if I want to go anywhere.'

There were other people on my father's list of likely protectors, of course – Morris and the clergyman he'd mentioned. Robin Levitt was the Bossingham-based vicar who still visited my father and asked me occasionally to go with him to concerts in Canterbury Cathedral. He'd already saved my life once, and I was sure he could be relied on to do it again. On the other hand, just because someone fancied you it didn't mean you could summon them whenever you needed them to do a bit of dirty work. Which left Morris, of course.

Maybe my hands were shaking a bit. Somehow I speed-dialled Farfrae's number, not Morris's. I was just about to gabble an apology and get off the line, but he seemed quite happy to chat, and even passed the phone across to his wife so she could tell me how much she loved the print I'd found for her.

Eventually I got Farfrae back again. I might as well say it: ‘Bruce – is Morris kosher? Really truly? Because I've had it up to here with bent policemen, and I just want to make sure.'

‘I'd trust him with my life,' he said simply.

‘Then I'd better trust him with mine.'

I'd hardly put the phone down and was thinking about popping Tim back into my bed when it rang again.

‘Farfrae says you're in trouble,' Morris said. ‘I'm on my way.'

I couldn't argue because he'd cut the call.

‘I really do not want to leave you here,' Griff declared, leaning on our front gate, Aidan still in his Merc and drumming his fingers on the wheel. His engine was still running too, as if he'd never heard about cars and global warming. ‘Morris or no Morris. And Aidan's already invited you to stay in Tenterden, he tells me.' He glanced over his shoulder, to see Aidan nodding in confirmation.