Naked Truths (44 page)

Just before lunchtime the phone rang. Angie picked it up. ‘Hello, Angie's Antiques! Oh, hello, Freds.' She stopped and listened. ‘Oh, I see.' Ash saw her cast an anxious glance over. ‘Yes, OK, we're on our way home.' Angie replaced the receiver, hesitating before she said, ‘Ash, it's about your father . . .'

Ash felt his stomach drop. ‘He hasn't done something stupid, has he?'

Angie picked up her handbag. ‘He's at the house. I think we'd better go.'

Ash felt the colour drain from his face. One tiny part of him wished that his dad had just turned up for a friendly visit, but he knew it was too much to hope for.

‘He sounds a bit drunk, darling,' Angie said gently.

By the time they'd got back, Freddie had somehow managed to get Mr King upstairs, where he'd passed out on the spare room bed. He reeked of booze, and there was a graze on his head. To Ash's mortification, there was also a dark stain round the crotch of his dad's dirty jeans where he'd wet himself.

The three stood staring down at him.

‘He fell over getting out of the cab,' said Freddie apologetically. ‘Luckily the driver was able to help me get him inside.'

A cab? All the way from London? There was no way his dad could afford something like that. Ash felt quite shaky at the thought.

‘I took care of the fare,' Freddie told him kindly.

‘I'll pay you back,' said Ash tightly, but Freddie waved his hand.

‘Don't worry about that now. Do you think we should get a doctor?'

They looked down at the comatose figure. The graze looked more superficial than anything serious, Ash had seen him with a lot worse. ‘Don't bother, he'll sleep it off,' he said bitterly. ‘He always does.'

Angie and Freddie glanced at each other, not sure what to say. ‘Well, he's welcome to stay here, like I said,' Angie said, a little too brightly.

Ash shook his head. ‘You don't want a stupid old drunk in your house. I'll make sure he's on the next train back to London.'

Before she could answer, Ash turned and ran out, his throat clenched in shame and misery. He needed some fresh air.

Angie said she would get him when his dad woke up, but it was 7 p.m. when she knocked on the granny annexe door. Ash had been getting more agitated by the hour; he knew what his dad could be like when he came round sometimes.

‘You don't have to look after him, Angie.'

‘Oh, it was no problem,' she assured him. ‘I think your father is feeling a bit better now. Come on over, Freddie's going to knock up some supper for us all in the kitchen.'

Ash found his dad sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee. He was freshly showered and shaved for once, and was wearing one of Freddie's old checked shirts and a pair of red jeans. He looked deeply guilty, but Ash wouldn't register it, he couldn't believe his dad had come here and embarrassed him like this.

‘All right son?' Mr King's voice was hoarse and croaky, as it often was after a mammoth drinking binge.

Ash stared at him with hostility. ‘What do you think?'

‘Angie and I will leave you to it,' Freddie said, and they tactfully withdrew.

‘I'm sorry, son.'

‘What are you doing here?' Ash asked angrily. ‘You've made me look a fool in front of Angie and Freddie, you know.'

Mr King stared into his coffee. ‘They seem decent. Angie was telling me how well you're doing at the shop.' He looked up, eyes more hopeful. ‘I'm proud of you, son.'

‘You can't just turn up here, pissed out of your head,' Ash said, his voice hard.

His dad looked unhappy. ‘I know I've embarrassed you. I was lonely.'

‘Why didn't you just call?' Ash was shouting now. ‘I would have come back and seen you! Then you wouldn't have dragged Angie and Freddie into all our shit.' Ash sighed, his anger dissolving as quickly as it started. ‘They're good people, Dad.'

‘I didn't want to bother you,' his dad said. ‘But I am going to get sober this time, I promise.'

Ash laughed mirthlessly. ‘If I had a pound coin . . .' He chucked the thirty pounds from earlier on the table. ‘This is for your train journey home, I'll call you a taxi.'

‘Ashley, son . . .' his dad's voice was pleading.

‘Leave it, Dad,' Ashley said, and walked out of the room.

Caro was making her way home from the shops when a large, stout woman stopped her. Something about her was very familiar, and as Caro took in the horn-rimmed glasses and giant mole on her cheek, the shock realization hit her.

It was the nurse from the hospital!

Up close, she wasn't any more attractive. She was wearing a frumpy dress and cardigan, thick tan tights stretched over tree-trunk legs. A passer-by would never imagine in their wildest nightmares that she had been merrily bouncing around on an enormous black dildo just a few days earlier.

‘I don't believe we've had the pleasure of being introduced properly,' the nurse said in a deep, husky voice. ‘Of course, Aubrey and I enjoy what one would call an adventurous sex life . . .'

Caro blinked away visions of flopping pendulous breasts.

‘. . . But it's always good to know we are bringing pleasure to others. Have you been doing it long?'

Caro had no idea what she was going on about. ‘I'm sorry?'

They moved aside to let someone pass.

‘Voyeurism,' the nurse whispered loudly. ‘It certainly has spiced things up for Aubrey and myself. What did you think to the Horny Hopper? We discussed at length whether you'd like it.'

She looked down at Caro's stomach. ‘It's nice to see that even pregnancy hasn't stopped you living out your fantasies. How kinky!'

Caro started to stutter. ‘Oh no, you've got the wrong end of the stick.'

The nurse winked. ‘It's our little secret, don't worry. I'm sorry to say I've got a new job at a different hospital, so we won't be able to entertain you any longer. Never mind, you've been quite the talk of our swinging set! I must be off. Goodbye.'

‘G-g-goodbye,' Caro managed as she watched the other woman trudge off. Dear Lord, had that just really happened?

Benedict and Amelia exploded with laughter when she arrived home with her curious tale.

‘I had no idea you were into voyeurism, darling,' Benedict said. ‘Would you like me to drill a peephole in the bathroom door for you?'

‘Oh shut up, it's not funny!'

‘I can't get over the Horny Hopper!' said Amelia. ‘To think they must have sat around for hours pondering whether it would turn you on or not!'

There was a knock at the door. ‘That's probably Stephen, he said he was popping over to borrow some of my fresh thyme,' said Caro, leaving the others giggling away.

She went to the front door and pulled it open. But she wasn't greeted by the familiar, twinkling eyes of her next-door neighbour.

Instead she found herself staring into the cold eyes of Vladimir Kirillov. And this time, he had brought company.

Caro stared at the men on her doorstep for what seemed like an age before Benedict appeared and instantly stepped in front of her. ‘Get back,' he ordered.

The thickset man beside Vladimir seemed to fill the doorway. He had a long black leather jacket on, but Caro could see his neck was covered with tattoos. She prayed to God Milo wouldn't wake up and come downstairs.

In the corner of the lounge Amelia whimpered like a frightened animal.

‘What the hell do you want, Kirillov?' Benedict's voice was low and dangerous. ‘I paid you off, didn't I?'

Vladimir gave a slow smile that showcased several gold teeth. He threw a cursory look at Amelia, as if displeased by what he saw.

‘And you should know, Mr Towey, that eighty thousand pounds isn't enough to keep me in the lifestyle I have been accustomed to.' His black eyes swept round the room. ‘You have a very nice place here, Mr Towey.' His cold gaze settled back on Benedict. ‘You know, I've been reading up about you. You run a very successful business, congratulations. So I was thinking that, really, you should be more generously disposed to me if you want to keep yourself safe.'

The black eyes shifted downwards, to a glint of metal. Vladimir was holding a large kitchen knife. Caro could hardly breathe with the fear flooding into her lungs. Vladimir's gaze flickered on her, catching sight of her two-carat diamond engagement ring.

‘That pretty piece would be a nice start. We can do this pleasantly, or,' Vladimir's snake-like eyes glinted, ‘we can do this my way. I assure you the first is the better option.'

No one moved. Caro felt frozen to the spot in fear. Then, with a sudden violence, Vladimir barged his way in, followed closely by his henchman. Benedict stepped back, accidentally knocking a glass lamp off a table by the door. It fell to the ground with a resounding smash.

Vladimir tutted regretfully. ‘I would be much more careful with your possessions, Mr Towey, because by the time my associate Yuri and I have finished here, you won't have many left.'

‘Is everything all right?' Suddenly Klaus was standing in the doorway, looking at the two strangers warily. ‘We heard something.'

Everything happened so quickly. ‘They're trying to rob us!' screamed Caro. Vladimir shot a wild glance at his henchman, and the two of them pushed past Klaus, almost knocking him over. Benedict took off in hot pursuit. Caro rushed to the doorway to stop him, but just a few feet away he was already engaged in a fierce hand-to-hand fight with Vladimir.

‘Benedict!' she screamed as the Russian swung his weapon in a vicious arc. ‘He's got a knife!' Benedict somehow managed to jump back at the last moment, crashing down against the mews wall.

Meanwhile Klaus had thrown himself at the henchman, Yuri. Despite his heavy stature, the Russian was ferociously quick, and Klaus had to work hard to miss the punches raining down on him.

The doors of No. 3 and No. 4 were open now, and Velda, Saffron and Stephen stood watching the scene in shock. Stephen clutched a hand to his chest, his face as white as his hair.

‘I've called the police!' screamed Saffron, waving her mobile in the air. Benedict glanced over at her, and Vladimir took the opportunity to rush at him.

‘Benedict!' cried Caro. Her husband did a neat sidestep, kicking the knife out of Vladimir's hand instead. It skittered across the cobbles, and Saffron bravely darted out and grabbed it, before running back to the shelter of her hallway.

Without his weapon, Vladimir seemed suddenly unsure what to do. He charged at Benedict, roaring like a wounded bull. As Caro screamed again, Benedict fended him off with a perfectly placed punch to the lower jaw. Vladimir stopped dead and then keeled over, unconscious.

The onlookers' attentions were quickly switched to Klaus and Yuri, who were grappling near the entrance to the mews. The blows were still coming thick and hard; Klaus's opponent seemed unstoppable. But just as the fight showed no signs of abating, Yuri lost his footing and stumbled, and Klaus pounced. Almost in slow motion he brought up one of his long legs and swung it round in an arc to deliver a perfect roundhouse kick at Yuri's head. Yuri looked dazed for a moment and crumpled on to the cobbles.

‘Go, Bruce Lee!' shouted Saffron. Klaus turned around and flashed a rare grin. He was breathing heavily. ‘Looks like ve have done the police vork for them.'

‘Klaus, look out!' shouted Stephen. Yuri had somehow managed to stand, and, to everyone's horror, produced an even bigger knife. Klaus turned, but it was too late. Yuri's hand was raised high. He couldn't miss . . .

Suddenly, a large brown plant pot fell from the sky and landed squarely on Yuri's head. His eyes rolled back and he fell to his knees, before collapsing face-first on the cobbles. This time he wouldn't be getting up for a while. Open-mouthed, everyone looked up to see where the fortuitous pot had come from. One of Rowena's top windows was open.

‘By gosh!' shouted an astonished Stephen. ‘Bravo, Rowena!'

It wasn't long before four flashing police cars screamed up and carted Vladimir and Yuri off. It turned out that Vladimir Kirillov was very well known to them.

‘You've just taken a very dangerous man off the street, gentlemen,' the police officer told Benedict and Klaus.

Afterwards, the residents of Montague Mews gathered in Caro and Benedict's living room. Velda offered to put the kettle on, but Benedict had pulled a bottle of single malt whisky out of the drinks cupboard.

‘I think we need something a bit stronger.'

Caro's hands were still shaking violently. The room was filled with frightened eyes and faces; it was starting to sink in just how badly things could have ended.

Stephen pulled a handkerchief out of his top pocket and dabbed his eyes. ‘I thought I was going to lose you,' he told Klaus, voice trembling.

Klaus put a strong arm around him. ‘I vos always going to be fine, Stephen.'

‘Where did you learn that roundhouse kick?' Saffron asked. ‘It was wicked!'

‘You learn a lot of things growing up in the country that runs with wolves,' the enigmatic Klaus replied.