Chapter 6: Growing Pains

I was putting the receiver back on its cradle, when the door opened, and Gerry burst in with Enid in his arms. He was laughing, while the little girl was engaged in an animated conversation with her mother coming in behind her carrying Jim. Jenny was smiling broadly, but then her eyes glanced at the cold cooker before they turned to me. The smile changed to a look of concern. Enid noticed the change and turned to see what had caused her mum to look worried.

“Daddy Bill! I’ve been on a horse!” The little girl threw herself out of her grandpa’s arms and would have fallen if I had not moved to collect her in mine.

She held me so tight around the neck that I was in danger of suffocation, with her tongue tripping over itself to relate everything she had seen and experienced. Jenny let her continue for a minute or two before she reminded her daughter of her solemn promise to have a bath first.

“You can tell Daddy Bill all about it after you’re in bed,” she promised. “It will be like a bedtime story.”

“You are silly, mummy. Children don’t tell stories to grown-ups.”

Enid offered a compromise: she would agree to a bath so long as I carried her up to the bathroom. I felt a tiny shiver of disappointment when Jenny asked her father to give the kids their bath – I had to admit that I had been looking forward to a few minutes in Jenny’s company. I had to remind myself again that she is too young for me but that did not stop my heart lifting when she said that she needed me to help her prepare dinner.

By the time I got back to the kitchen, Jenny had pork chops defrosting in the microwave oven. She had taken frozen mashed potato and peas out and the packages were waiting their turn to be zapped.

“I know it’s none of my business, Bill, but I can see you’re really worried and I’d like to help.”

“It’s as much your business as it is mine. Like you, I walked in here as an employee and was drawn into the web of intrigue that surrounds Belle. If we had any sense, we’d walk away but I can’t do it.”

“I shouldn’t say this, but perhaps you’re on the rebound after Hazel left you, the stupid bitch.”

“My involvement isn’t romantic,” I laughed. “In fact, I only started divorce proceeding when I discovered that none of the women here is deterred by a marriage licence.” I thought Jenny looked relieved at that news. “When I arrived in this house, I was rebuilding my life from the bottom up. Belle and the four other women are trying to do something with their own lives, and I’ve become caught up in helping them.”

“Not to mention helping dad and my brood.”

“That part at least is sound common sense. Gerry is the best worker I know, and your insights have helped to clarify my thoughts. As for Jim and Enid, they’ve simply bowled me over.”

We had been working as we talked. Jenny was replacing packages in the microwave as they became ready, transferring them to the oven to keep them warm. I was grilling the chops. We were working separately but so close that we made frequent contact, brushing a hip or shoulder in passing. If it had not been for my concern for Belle, I would have been blissfully content with the domestic intimacy.

“Something’s troubling you, Bill. Please let me help.” Jenny touched my arm, sending a little tingle through me. She looked at me quizzically when I groaned, unable to suppress inappropriate thoughts.

I repeated every word I could remember of the telephone conversation with Belle, adding comments on her tone of voice.

“You can’t think she’s been kidnapped!” Jenny was outraged. “I agree they’re a weird bunch, but daughters don’t abduct their own mothers.”

I could think of nothing they could gain by holding Belle against her will. Even if they coerced her into signing a Power of Attorney, she could reverse any changes they might make. Cherry is impulsive, but she has too much sense to risk imprisonment for fraud or false arrest.

“That’s exactly what I thought, but the fact remains that she is not here, and she said nothing about where she is staying. I sometimes wish I was one of those computer wizards that could track her through her mobile phone or her laptop.”

“You go and see if she’s taken her laptop with her while I call a friend whose fiancé is one of the wizards. And tell the others that dinner is served.”

Angie and Audrey were exiting their room, so I passed the message before entering the disaster area that was my bathroom. Gerry was the only one with his clothes on and he was soaked from head to foot; there must have been twenty towels strewn across the floor and there were still puddles of water. We took the kids into his bedroom and opened the case that contained their night clothes. I had to make a visit to the bathroom in the other wing for two dry towels for the kids.

Enid, with a little help from her grandpa, told me the story of their day. Gerry visited the village nursery in the morning with Jenny. After Enid and Jim came out of their old nursery school, they all came back in time to lunch with the village children. Audrey’s friend was there, inviting them to visit her stables. Jenny – and the children – loved the new nursery and would start there at the beginning of next week.

While the rest were at the stables, Gerry drove back into town to pack a couple of suitcases so Jenny and the children could stay the night in the big house. Enid had indeed been on the back of a horse, vigorously shaking the reins to make the little Shetland pony go faster. It is little wonder that neither child managed to stay awake long enough to have the promised ice cream for dessert.

Jenny and I carried the kids upstairs to clean their teeth and put them to bed. Enid wanted to go towards grandpa’s room, but I whispered that we did not want her mum to see the state of the bathroom: she giggled. Gerry had set up the baby alarm in Jenny’s room so they would have had to be put to bed there in any event. While they were busy, I cleaned my bathroom using the sodden towels, loading them into the laundry basket. I had it out in the hall when Jenny emerged from her room.

She scolded me for cleaning up after her kids.

“I’m Enid’s slave,” I told her. “And there’s nothing either of us can do about it.”

“Do you mind being daddy Bill?”

“I’m immensely honoured. I’d adopt her if I could – I’ll adopt all three of you, if you like.”

“That could become a little confusing,” she giggled. “Lead me to your washing machine.”

Audrey took her to the laundry room, while I was still astonished at the fact that Enid and her mum sound exactly the same when they giggle. Cautioning myself not to let my love for the daughter confuse my feelings for her mother, I turned my attention to Angie, who was still looking decidedly glum.

“Did you think your mum sounded all right on the phone?”

“Probably embarrassed because she’s taken Cherry’s side again.”

“I don’t think she was altogether a free agent.”

“That’s what I keep telling you. She’s under Cherry’s thumb, just like the rest of you.” It would not have been so heart wrenching if Angie had been angry, but she was resigned to being second best.

“I like you better than Cherry,” I assured her, a sentiment echoed by Audrey who had returned from the laundry with Jenny.

“I have to admit that I was taken in at first but since I’ve got to know you better, I like you more.”

“Now that’s cleared up,” Jenny interrupted, getting straight on with the important business. “Is there anything your mother said that got you wondering?”

Angie repeated what she remembered of the conversation, telling us that it was all a bit strange but there was nothing that stood out. Then I suddenly realised that we had independent proof that she was not willingly staying away.

“She has only the clothes she was wearing when she left here. Even if she wanted to be with Cherry, she would have come back here to pack a suitcase.”

Belle is fastidious – and a couple of sizes smaller than either of her daughters. Not that I actually looked, you understand, but I had been unable to avoid noticing the frilly scraps of material that appeared on the washing line close to the back door. In fact, I had noticed that Belle changed her knickers more than once a day. The women were still calling me a pervert as we dashed upstairs to check Belle’s wardrobe.

The door to her suite was locked but the key to Audrey’s room opened it. When Claude refurbished the property, he had preserved intact the doors onto the stairwell including their original furniture. The same key fitted all the locks in the house. Gerry and I went up to check on the kids and then sat on the stairs while the girls searched Belle’s room. There was a good deal of laughter at some of their finds but no evidence that she had taken anything – even her make-up was undisturbed. They would not tell Gerry and me what was so funny.

Back in the kitchen, we agreed that there was something strange going on but our guesses about what was happening were getting wilder. Angie was convinced that it was another aggressive move by her sister to capture all the attention; Audrey feared that her sister might be involved at some level; my notion was that it was engineered by Geoff to get his hands on the fifty thousand salary he had demanded in his action plan. Gerry was a bit out of his depth.

It was Jenny who insisted on returning to the phone call. Both Angie and I repeated what we remembered.

“How did she know about the architect?” Audrey asked. “You only called him at lunchtime, after she had gone.”

“Why do you need an architect for an adventure playground?” Gerry asked, handing round another cup of coffee to each of us.

“I need to visit the dower house!” I was on my feet moving towards my boots as I spoke.

“Not without telling us why,” Audrey was also on her feet, kicking the boots out of my reach.

I had to sit and tell them of Maurice threatening me with his gun when I discovered the adventure playground. I mentioned joking to Belle that the architect would need to carry a permit to avoid being shot.

“Belle was trying to warn me that Maurice is behind her decision to stay away from home. She is also alerting me to the state of his temper. I don’t pretend to know how he thinks he’ll get away with it, but I must confirm that Belle is there before we decide what to do. I intend to look for signs of Belle in or near the dower house.”

“I can get you into the garage,” Audrey said at the same time as Jenny insisted that I could not go alone.

I let them argue about which of them should accompany me while I sat berating myself for ignoring the opposition. Maurice and Graham had both threatened to attack Belle. I had learned enough about their characters to have taken them seriously, but I continued to believe that they could do nothing. That is still the rational conclusion although they have done something anyway. Cherry may be sensible enough not to risk jail, but Maurice is not; he had pointed a loaded gun at me for much less reason than he had to harm Belle. I made a rapid reassessment of our position, this time trying to put myself in the mind of the enemy.

In my own way, I am as much of a scientist as a nuclear physicist. In particular there must be a reaction to every action. I could still see no useful purpose to the action of abducting Belle, so I changed my approach. What, I asked myself, is the reaction Christine and her minions are seeking? She wants all the money that was left to her stepmother by her father. Even assuming that Belle has included her as a sharer in her will, Christine cannot hope to eliminate the three other people who would inherit.

It is difficult enough to think rationally but I was getting a headache trying to think irrationally. Suppose she was prepared to sacrifice her allies by having Maurice kill Belle and Graham dispose of Cherry, that would still leave Audrey and Angela. On the other hand, forcing Belle to change her will while she is living in the dower house would not be verified once they freed the old lady. The whole idea of harming Belle was surely descending from the irrational into madness.

Then I remembered Audrey telling me of joining her sister in thrashing Maurice until he passed out from the pain. Christine had known when to stop the punishment, so her husband recovered. There was no doubt that she could extract almost anything she wanted from Belle by hurting the old lady badly enough, but she could not hope to keep control once Belle was free. I resolved to call Sanderson as soon as his office opened to alert him to the possibility that there could be a sudden demand from Belle to liquidate the estate.

By this time, I had worked myself into a worryingly irrational frame of mind. Keeping Belle out of circulation for weeks would be almost impossible but there were others whose absence could more easily pass without comment. Jenny and the children were in process of disappearing from one life to begin afresh with us in the big house. Previous neighbours would not be looking for them and only Belle’s extended family would expect to see them in their new location.

“I’m coming with you,” Gerry announced.

“We’re at war,” I told him. “The first thing to do is secure our home base – this house. Gerry, you will stay to look after the kids. Angie will show you the passage to the steward’s house; if you come under attack, move there without lights. The second thing we must do is gather intelligence. Audrey will show me how to access the garage at the dower house. We will not be attempting any daring rescues – not tonight, at least.”

From their faces, I judged that their initial resistance to the ideas eased as I spoke. There were nods all round the table when I finished. Audrey brought down her make-up box so she and Jenny could blacken our hands and faces. I would have felt ridiculous if I had allowed the rational part of my mind to take control.

I was concerned about being silhouetted as we passed through the gap in the wall out of the kitchen garden. Audrey knew of an alternative route outside the greenhouse wall. We would exit through the French windows of the sick room, turning to the right along the track the gardeners used when the croquet lawn was being cared for. It was concreted so there was a good chance that it would be navigable even after twenty or so years of neglect.

We made our farewells to the others in the kitchen. First Angie and then Jenny kissed me on the lips, explaining that they did not want to spoil my black make-up; Gerry clapped my shoulder. Audrey and I sat on the floor inside the French windows for ten minutes while our eyes adjusted to the moonlight.

“Did you tell Cherry about your fun and games with your sister?” I asked quietly.

“Sort of,” she sighed, after a pause.

“Did you make it seem sordid, as you did when you told me, or did you stress the excitement of humiliating a man?”

“Do you think that has something to do with Belle’s kidnap?”

Audrey is a clever woman when she is not being a vamp. I explained my attempts to think irrationally, outlining a possible sequence of events. Cherry looked up to Geoff as the man who would organize the family. Instead, he fell at the first hurdle, having to be carried out of the ring. Audrey has told her how Maurice is disciplined and Cherry contacts her other stepsister to ask for help in punishing Geoff. Christine agrees, so long as Cherry brings her mother to the dower house.

“That’s ridiculous!”

“Not ridiculous, simply irrational.

“Let us suppose that Cherry is considering a spanking session with Christine. You saw Maurice unconscious after a beating by his loving wife. I think that the threat of that happening to Cherry would convince Belle to do whatever Christine demanded.”

Audrey’s eyes opened wide, and she nodded vigorously when I asked if her sister ever filmed their fun and games.

I stood then, telling her it was time to leave. She stood and hugged me very tightly, becoming the third woman in twenty minutes to kiss me on the lips. The difference was that Audrey could not resist trying to use a little tongue. She giggled when I pulled away.

“I’ve been really good, you must admit, but I just couldn’t resist the opportunity since we’re going into danger.”

We locked the French windows behind us, turning right along the terrace. The moon was a few days short of full and the only cloud was high and wispy, so the lawn was bathed in light. Unfortunately, the house caused a deep shadow on the path we had to take. Even with our eyes adjusted it was difficult to detect obstacles until we were very close. It was less than twenty strides from the back door to the arch into the kitchen garden; it seemed to take a hundred long steps to cover the equivalent distance on the path.

It took an age to reach the point where we could see the roof of the glasshouse glinting as the moon shone through it. There was a double door set in the wall that must lead into one of the equipment sheds although I could not recall seeing it from the inside of the courtyard. The path ended at the door and for the next few metres we were forcing our way through briars and clinging vines. It was early enough in the year, so there was no new growth, but it was still hard to progress.

When we reached the end of the wall enclosing the kitchen garden Audrey took the lead. She had played in the woods as a schoolgirl, showing impressive recall of the tracks. She told me later that everything seemed much further apart in those bygone days, and she was beginning to doubt herself until we glimpsed a light from the dower house. Her uncertainty kept us moving slowly now that the conditions underfoot were much easier.

The light was from an upstairs window, flickering as we moved amongst the tree trunks. I was a pace behind Audrey when she stopped, and I halted in contact with her back, looking over her shoulder. We remained like that for what seemed like minutes until I saw a sudden glow that seemed to be within touching distance. It was the light from a cigarette and, once seen, it was not hard to discern the outline of the smoker sitting on a stump.

He had chosen a spot where he could watch intently the light in the dower house. I could make out his arm rising as he took another drag at his cigarette. It was Geoff, his features clear in the glow as he inhaled. Now that we had stopped, I became aware of how much noise there was in the wood. It was low volume, making me think of stealthy activities by small animals or birds moving amongst the trees. The loudest sound came from the owls; one cry seemed to trigger a response form two or three others.

I put my hands on Audrey’s shoulders and eased past her, so I was three strides from Geoff’s stump. He was still totally focused on the window of the house, where I could now see the occasional shadow crossing the blind. Was he there as a watchman or because his lady friend was inside? The answer to that question would have to wait. The cry of the owls was intermittent and irregular, but it always began with one bird, immediately followed by two or three others. When I heard the next cry, I took a careful stride towards Geoff; he continued to watch the lighted window, taking puffs at his cigarette.

I let several sequences of owl calls pass until I was sure that my movement was completely undetected. When I took my next cautious step, I was almost within touching distance. Geoff stirred as I came to a halt and I was ready to face him, hoping the surprise would give me an advantage. He flicked the cigarette end into the trees and muttered ‘bastards’. He still had his back to me, still intent on the moving shadows on the blind of the lighted room, when I took the final step, gagging him with my left hand while I hit him as hard as I could in his kidneys with my right fist.

My hand over his mouth prevented him screaming; the noise that he did make was fortuitously covered by another chorus from my friends the owls. I had belonged to a martial arts club at university where we were warned of the dangers of a punch to the kidneys, but I had never before seen the effects. Geoff was poleaxed. Audrey glided up and I whispered to her to find something to gag Geoff. He had collapsed and I was supporting his weight preventing him from falling off the stump.

There was a flash of white as she put both hands under her sweater, and again seconds later when she they reappeared holding what I assumed was her bra. There was a warm scent of woman and perfume as she reached past me and used it to replace my hand over Geoff’s mouth. He was recovering from my punch, uttering low moans. When she was done, Audrey looked towards the lighted window while I continued to support our captive while he recovered.

“That’s the room where they keep their toys,” Audrey whispered, so close to my ear that I could feel her breath.

“Who are they?” I whispered back.

She glided away leaving me with my prisoner and was soon lost amongst the trees. Geoff was showing signs of displeasure, but I held my closed fist in front of his eyes before lightly touching the tender area on his back. He cringed but stopped making any move to change his status. Audrey returned after perhaps five minutes, nodding her head when I pointed back towards the big house. She lost the path as we left the wood, so we struggled to get back to the wall around the kitchen garden. From then on, it was simple and much quicker than the outward journey. Geoff stumbled a good deal and complained incessantly – that, at least, is how I interpreted the noises that got through his gag.

As soon as we closed the French windows behind us, Audrey excitedly dashed off to tell the others. She left open the door into the hall making it possible for me to get a good look at my prisoner. Audrey’s bra was dark coloured and one of the padded cups had been pushed into Geoff’s mouth. It was held securely by the shoulder straps and the whole was held in place by the normal fastening. It was a remarkable feat, and I have no idea how she managed to do it so quickly and without a light. I had intended to remove it now we were inside, but I decided to wait until the others could see Audrey’s ingenuity for themselves. He was becoming agitated again, but a gentle jab on the site of the punch settled him.

A sudden diminution of light focused my attention on the open door where the gang were jostling each other trying to enter the room. They were silhouetted against the light behind them in the hall, so it took me a moment to recognise the slight figure leading the charge.

“Belle! We were planning to rescue you.”

“Is that Geoff wearing the Victoria’s Secrets lingerie?”

I still could not see the expression on her face, but I was relieved to hear the laughter in her voice. The others had crowded in by this point, forming a circle with our prisoner in the centre. Audrey stepped forward to hug me, moving her chest against me so I was reminded that her breasts, under her sweater, were unbound. She began telling me about Belle’s escape while Angela asked why we had brought Geoff with us. Then everyone started talking at the same time.

Jenny came close, concerned about a streak of blood running down my blackened face. She was more than a little rough in detaching Audrey from her limpet-like embrace on my torso. Gerry came forward at this moment with two dining chairs, one of which he offered to Belle, who gave him a warm smile. He forced Geoff to sit in the other chair, removing the man’s belt and using it to tie his arms to the chair behind his back.

We quietened while Gerry checked the security of the restraint and then Belle raised a hand for silence. Jenny was now using cold cream to remove my make-up; Angie helped herself to a handful applying it to Audrey’s face.

“James Bond has nothing to fear from you two,” Belle smiled at Audrey and me. “Not only do you wander about the woods to attempt an unnecessary rescue you bring back an utterly useless prisoner. Take that ridiculous gag off and let’s hear what Geoff has to say for himself.”

He began by complaining but a few seconds of thought convinced him to reconsider his position. Gerry held the tip of Geoff’s right ear between his thumb and forefinger, increasing the pressure when he heard foul language; I believe this helped Geoff reach the right decision. It only took a few minutes after that to confirm that Belle was absolutely right: Geoff knew nothing of the intentions of the gang in the dower house.

Audrey tried to argue that we could not have escaped without him detecting us and that we were certain at the time that Belle was still a prisoner. I decided not to speak; Belle must be aware that we had to bring Geoff, and her present posture was some sort of game to gain control of the situation. I had had enough: I was tired as the adrenaline dissipated, and I was thoroughly sick of Belle and her whole clan. Without another glance at her, I walked out of the room; after locking my bedroom door, I stripped off and fell on my bed, asleep before my head hit the pillow.

I had forgotten, of course, that a single key opened all the locks in the house. I woke up lying face down on the bedspread when Jenny plonked down beside me.

“You certainly know how to end a party,” she grinned. “Audrey and Angie had a fight over you and dad had to help Belle up to her room – she really milked it. ‘Oh Gerry, what would I do without you’, and that kind of stuff. Smiling up at him and batting her eyes. Sometimes I’m ashamed of my fellow women. The only consolation is that men are worse!”

I could see a cup of tea on the bedside cabinet, and I was just about to reach for it when Jenny grabbed the bedspread and hauled it over to cover me just before Enid burst through the door to leap onto my naked back. I had forgotten that I had stripped the night before; Jenny had been unconcerned by my nudity. I was thankful for the scrap of cloth covering my buttocks when her daughter arrived. Enid sat on my pillow chatting while her mum wiggled her bottom against my thigh. The arrival of Gerry and Jenny in the house was supposed to simplify my existence but it certainly was not working out that way.

It was the arrival of Jim, his nappy dragging with the weight of urine accumulated while he slept, that let me escape the embarrassment of being naked in the presence of Enid and her mother. Jenny led the children back to their room while I dashed for the bathroom clutching the bedspread round my naked torso. It was only when I was dressed and had reached the foot of the staircase that I remembered Geoff: the previous evening, I had left him secured to a chair by his own belt.

I had no idea what I was going to do with the man, but I certainly did not want to cause him permanent harm. I sighed with relief when he greeted me with a whine. He was still attached to the heavy dining chair, but it was now on its side, and someone had put a pillow under his head. He had kicked off a banket that had been draped over him.

“This is going to cost you thousands,” he began when he saw me in the doorway. “I was going to let you off with the sucker punch in the dining room the other evening, but you’ve really done it this time.”

It took him some time to get that message out, of course, since he inserted a great deal of invective. There was no need to respond, so I moved closer, at which point he cringed as far as his bonds would let him, while he pleaded with me not to hit him again. All I wanted was the contents of his pockets; that set him off on another round of threats, this time promising to bring criminal charges as well as engineering my financial ruin.

“Just shut up for a minute, Geoff. I’m getting to the point where it would be less bother to bury you under the spuds than keep you.”

“You can’t fucking kill me, you bastard. Cherry knows where I am, and she’ll call the cops if I just disappear.”

“Will she even notice you’ve gone? She was having fun whipping her mates while you were out in the cold. You’ve run away before, so she’ll just assume that you’ve chickened out again. We’ll keep you for a couple of days, but if she doesn’t claim you, I’ll bury you under the maincrop when we plant the field. I’ll try to make it painless – weed-killer might be best. What do you think?”

I left him then to make my way to the kitchen. I had made no effort to talk quietly, and all the doors were open, so I think the rest of the household overheard my conversation with our reluctant guest. They certainly looked rather wary when I appeared in the kitchen. Gerry, who knows me best, was trying to hide a grin but Audrey and Angela were apprehensive. Angie handed me a breakfast tray.

“Mother wants to see you straight away,” she whispered.

As I reached the top of the stairs, I met Jenny coming down with the two children. Enid was subdued, giving me a sorrowful look but clinging firmly to her mother’s hand; I guessed that the little girl had been warned to curb her enthusiasm. Jenny had probably decided that I am some sort of monster who not only kidnaps people but sleeps naked. In the mood I was in, I would gladly have walked out on every one of the adults, but it hurt to be rejected by Enid.

Belle once accused me of indifference, but the truth is that I have to fight hard to keep my emotions in check. I do so because I have learned that appearing cool and in control helps to defuse problems. When others become immobilised by anger or fear or sadness, I keep my attention focused on the task. I try to wait until the crisis is past before I let my emotions loose; mostly I do this in bed where the only witness was an utterly oblivious Hazel. I was able to meet Enid’s rejection with a gentle smile.