Millie's Game Plan (15 page)

At some point, I nodded off because the next thing I knew, Josh was moving me forward and saying, ‘Millie, wake up. Time to go.’

There was a creaking as somebody opened the church door.

Josh stood up and moved over to the gate. ‘Malcolm!’ he called out.

‘Over here. In the crypt,’ I croaked, scrambling up to join Josh.

The organist stood, non-plussed, inside the church door. He turned towards us and blinked. ‘Good stars and stripes! What on earth’s happened to you?’

Since the thieves had taken Josh’s keys, we were convinced the vicarage would have been ransacked too, so it was a surprise to find it locked and undisturbed; his precious Austin Healey still in the garage.

I grabbed Josh’s arm. ‘They could be lying in wait.’

A frown of concern crossed his face and he slipped his arm round my back. ‘Millie, I think that’s unlikely. But if it makes you feel safer, I’ll take you up to Vonnie’s.’

I felt a slump of disappointment, even though it made perfect sense. ‘No. I’m fine. But how are you going to get in?’

He tapped the side of his nose, slid his arm from around me and, holding my hand, led me to the back garden. He lifted a log from the wood pile and took out a key. ‘Don’t tell anyone,’ he grinned.

After calling the police, he made a pot of coffee before taking a quick shower. Malcolm was still at the church, redirecting parishioners to the village hall so as to avoid the crime scene.

The vicarage was like a house in one of those TV makeover shows – before the team moves in. It hadn’t been decorated since the eighties. The furniture was sparse and probably second-hand. Nothing matched, apart from the running theme of cracks and scratches. But it was clean and moderately tidy, although I couldn’t resist squaring up the chairs around the kitchen table and regrouping some sad, old ornaments on the hall windowsill.

Josh directed me to the bathroom, where he’d already started running a bath for me. ‘Just take your time and relax. The police are coming in about an hour. I’m just popping over to start the morning service.’

‘Thanks.’ I felt awkward now, even though we’d just spent a relatively intimate night together.

‘Do you need anything?’

Nothing I dared mention. ‘I’m fine, thanks. The bath will be wonderful.’

‘Good. Enjoy,’ he said and bounded down the stairs.

I lowered myself into the bath as slowly as I could, to savour the deep, tingling heat as it progressed up my aching body. I took a sip of coffee before lying back and closing my eyes.

The bathroom was as ancient as the rest of the house, with its imitation marble and stained pine washstand. Josh had left two clean towels on an old wicker chair and a green and white striped bathrobe – his, I imagined. I lay there, thinking: if someone had told me, three weeks ago, I’d be soaking in a vicarage bath-tub after a night in a crypt, I’d have retreated into my sofa and watched a re-run of Friends.

They say good men are like buses – you’re standing around for ages and then, bam! Two of them mount the pavement and send you flying.

I pulled a strand of my hair forward and sniffed. After eight hours pressed up against Josh, it had absorbed his essence. I inhaled gain and my mind began drifting through some engaging scenarios.

No. I mustn’t, and yet…something about him really got to me. It must have been the forbidden fruit thing.

There was a rattle and a clang, which I
realised was the ancient vicarage doorbell. Amazing. When you want the police to turn up, they’re never there. I slid under the water to rinse off any trace of Josh, squeezed my hair and wrapped a towel round my head. The bell clattered again. ‘Coming!’ I yelled, pulling his bathrobe round my shoulders and fastening the belt tightly. I ran downstairs to find Lex on the doorstep, looking like he’d just got out of bed. He hadn’t shaved and was wearing a half-buttoned, white shirt over a pair of jeans.

‘Millie. I just heard. Are you okay?’ he asked, gripping my upper arms.

I looked into those green eyes of his, which today clashed with their bloodshot surrounds, and saw all the intensity of a man who wanted answers. No. Who wanted me, and I wanted him. As if reading my mind, his mouth came crashing down on mine. His stubble grazed my face and his arms crushed me against his body. My hands were round his back and clutching at the fabric of his shirt. He felt good – strong and lean and totally into me. He kicked the door closed and pushed me up against an old barometer, which dug painfully into my shoulder. I yelped and he stepped back for a moment, looking down at me and searching my face. He focused on my cheek: ‘You’re bruised. My God! They hurt you.’

I smiled up at him. ‘It’s not much,’ I whispered. ‘I’m fine, really.
Just a bit stiff from a night on the crypt floor.’

He frowned and loosened his grip, bringing a hand up to stroke my face, and tried to kiss me more gently but within seconds it was like he couldn’t help himself and it all became urgent again. His hand travelled from my neck, down between the folds of the robe and cupped itself over my breast, which was a guaranteed trigger for my hips to rise towards his. My hands found their way under his shirt to pull him even closer. He lifted his mouth away from my lips and dipped his head, moving his fingers from my receptive nipple to allow his tongue full access. His stubble was sharp against the sensitive skin; I noticed his dark hair fall over his forehead. My eyes wandered up to see our reflection in the hall mirror. The towel was slipping from my head, and the robe was way too big for me. Lex loosened the belt completely, and slid his hands inside.

On the other side of the hall I noticed white paint was peeling from an old, wrought iron hallstand, there was a parish magazine on it and a saxophone case was propped against the wall.

‘I can’t do this!’ I yelped.

‘What?’ he stopped, heat in his cheeks and a glazed look in his eyes.

‘Not here. Not now.’

‘Oh come on, we can be quick,’ he said, seeking my mouth again with his.

I kissed him back and relished the feel of his hands, which were gliding over my bottom. And still I managed to draw away.
‘The police. They’ll be here. Got to give them my statement,’ I panted, as he nibbled my neck. ‘Lex, no!’ I said, as his fingers headed south. ‘Really. Not now. I couldn’t relax.’

He took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes, then a smile stole over his lips, ‘You seem pretty relaxed to me, Millie.’

I probably whimpered. ‘Yes and no. But…it’s not the right time.’

He stepped back and closed the robe, though not before giving my breasts one last caress.

I tied the belt myself and pulled the towel off my head, shaking my hair out and dragging a strand over my bruised cheek. ‘Want a coffee?’ I asked

He pulled a smile, and followed me into the kitchen.

I’d watched Josh make coffee and clean the machine out. It was a gleaming example of modern technology in an otherwise faded and jaded kitchen. Last night, he’d confessed his three culinary indulgences were good coffee, dark chocolate and fresh chillies. I smiled to myself as I scooped grounds into the hopper.

Lex came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. His arousal hadn’t subsided. ‘I’m glad you’re okay,’ he murmured into my neck. ‘I thought all manner of things had happened to you.’

‘We hoped someone might come looking for us.’

‘We thought Josh’s car must have broken down – it is an old crock, after all.’

I sighed and leaned back against him.

‘I even thought you might have run off with
Warwick.’

‘What?’ I turned. ‘Why would I? Why would he?’

Lex shrugged. ‘You seemed to be getting on pretty well at Dominic’s party. What was I supposed to think?’

I forced a laugh. ‘So you thought he’d taken me off for a dirty weekend?’

‘I wouldn’t blame him.’ He pulled me to him again. Although he’d brushed his teeth, I could tell he must have sunk a bottle or two, last night. Poor guy. All he’d wanted to do was make love to me and, at every opportunity, been thwarted. Still, in just a few hours, I’d be able to make amends.

Eventually, we stopped kissing. ‘How was the concert?’

‘Bloody cold.’

‘Did you get rained on?’

‘Christ, yes. Or rather, the tent did.’ He nibbled my earlobe. ‘Tell my about your night in the crypt.’

‘Bloody cold,’ I echoed and shuffled over to the
tap, Lex loosened his grip but still shadowed me.

‘What about
Warwick. What kind of company was the holy man?’

It didn’t take a doctor of psychology to spot the jealousy in that question. ‘Oh, you know, like you’d expect.
Polite. Positive.’

‘Did he spend all night praying for deliverance?’

Even though it wasn’t fair on Josh, I chuckled. ‘All night. It was incessant.’

He looked at me oddly and then a smile lifted his cheeks.
‘So long as that’s all he was doing.’ He moved towards me again, watching as I switched on the coffee machine. ‘I know if I’d been locked in a crypt with you all night, the only thing you’d have been praying for was stamina.’

I giggled.
‘No…a mattress.’

‘Lucky I’ve got a really soft bed up at the house.’

He kissed me some more, and I wondered how amazing it might be, once we finally hit the sack.

The door slammed.

Lex swore and stepped back to tighten my dressing gown.

Josh’s smile flattened as he clocked Lex standing in his kitchen.

‘Lex heard about what happened last night,’ I gushed guiltily, as if I’d been caught with my knickers down – which was daft since I wasn’t wearing any.

Josh nodded and a policeman appeared behind him. He was one of the villagers. I recognised him from running yesterday’s hoopla stall. ‘Millie, this is PC Ryan – Nick Ryan – he lives in the village.’

Lex reached for my hand. ‘This doesn’t need to take too long does it?’

Nick Ryan gave him a wary look. ‘Unfortunately, Mr Marshal, this will take as long as it needs to.’

Mr Marshal. That was pretty formal – maybe it was a police thing.

‘Look, Millie’s had a tough night. Should she be doing this now, at all?’

‘I’m fine. Really.’

Nick gave me a brief, supportive smile. ‘Mr Marshal, I’m fully aware of the night this young lady’s had, but
it’s imperative we get the facts now, while they’re fresh in her mind.’

‘Surely, she’ll remember more after she’s rested?’

‘Lex, I’m perfectly happy to do it now. Honestly.’

He narrowed his eyes. ‘Okay.’ I knew this was the last thing on Lex’s mind but his concern seemed genuine.

Josh fixed the coffee and we sat around the kitchen table, which was scored and scuffed from years of use. When Nick asked if I’d managed to get a look at either of my assailants, I could only give a sketchy description of the one who’d hit me. I only knew he was taller than me and strong. But since I’m short, slim and weak, it was hardly a red hot lead.

‘You mentioned you’d been outside taking photographs of the wedding. Do you still have the camera?’

I sighed and shook my head. ‘No. And I didn’t look to see if it was still in the church.’ All those lovely photos of the fete; perfect, idyllic snapshots of local history – gone. That saddened me more than the loss of the camera.

I glanced across at Josh. He was wearing a light blue shirt, dog collar and jeans, but I couldn’t see the blue of his eyes because he was concentrating on the contents of his mug.

‘Right, over to you, Josh.’ So, he didn’t call
him
Reverend Warwick, then. ‘Can you describe what happened, please?’

‘I was in the vestry, changing out of my…’

Lex cut in. ‘Excuse me, Nick, couldn’t Millie go and get dressed?’

‘It’s okay. I’m fine.’ I said, glancing quickly at Lex and then at Nick, who nodded.

All three of them waited.

‘Actually, Lex, the only clothes I have with me are filthy. There’s a change of clothes in my car but the keys are in my handbag in your mum’s kitchen. Would you mind popping over and getting the suitcase out of the boot?’

He hesitated for a moment but was too polite to refuse. ‘Absolutely.’ He stood and gave me a peck on my good cheek before he left. I sank back into the chair and listened to Josh’s report, which was brief. He had just locked the silver away in its case, when he’d heard a noise behind him, turned and been whacked on the head by something hard. The next thing he knew, I was nudging him awake in the crypt.

Nick then asked how long we’d known each other. When I said I’d never been to the village until four weeks ago, he jotted something down on his pad. Of course, he knew Josh had only been in the village six months so I could imagine him weaving a fiction of me and Josh planning the whole thing months ago; he’d be looking into our backgrounds and hoping to discover we were really Bonnie and
Clyde from Brixton. I wanted to laugh, but instead swilled the coffee grounds in my cup and studied them.

Lex was soon
back with my case. As I took it from him, I wondered if he’d noticed the floaty lemon and lime dress I’d draped over the back seat and was he thinking – like I was – about the kind of evening we’d missed out on? I went back up to the bathroom and opened the case. There was the matching lemon lacy underwear, labels still attached. Oh well, sometime soon.

Optimistically, I smoothed body lotion into my skin. It had been sweltering when I’d packed so I only had a pair of white cropped trousers and a scarlet, v-necked top to wear. That really brought out the shades of magenta and blue in my cheek. I tried concealing the bruise with foundation but it hurt and ended up looking mucky so I wiped it off again. I made more of my eyes with liner and mascara. My hair, having
dried naturally, was thick and falling in waves over my shoulders. I decided if Lex was still there…he must really like me.