Your Royal Hostage (27 page)

Feeling herself in a reckless
mood, Jemima added: 'And I wish
Cass and Flora Hereford the joy of it too.' The moment she had framed the thought, she realized to her surprise that it was true. She was free of all that. Weddings, marriage, royal or otherwise, was simply not for her.

Pity under the circumstances about the career, the
tus
fiasco and the Megalith one which had preceded it. Oh well, there was always Midnight.... She would end her days as an unemployed spinster alone with her cat. That thought seemed to call either for tears or for celebration. Finding the latter preferable, especially since Midnight, an independent cat who liked to choose his own moment of embrace, had jumped out of her arms with an indignant mew, she routed out a bottle of champagne from the fridge. She realized wryly that it was the bottle given to her in tribute by a member of the Press on the day she had been sacked by Megalith and appointed by
tus.

Jemima had just opened the bottle when the telephone rang yet again. This time she decided to answer it. Susanna or no Susanna, what could she lose?

'Where are you?' cried the instantly recognizable voice of Cy Fredericks without any preliminaries. It was not only the instantly recognizable voice of Cy Fredericks, it was also the instantly recognizable voice of Cy Fredericks in a state of great agitation. 'Didn't you get my messages? Where are you? Why aren't you
here?’
Then, virtually without pause, 'Jem, my Jem, we have plans, wonderful new plans, most exciting plans, I can't wait to see you and tell you everything -'

'Cy darling, where are
you?’
But Jemima should have known better than to ask. Such a question, even at the calmest of times, had been known to cast Cy into a fearful state of uncertainty and these were definitely not the calmest of times.

'Miss Lewis,' she heard him shout in the familiar manner. 'Where am I? Miss Lewis, where are you?'

'I'm here, Mr Fredericks,' Miss Lewis's v
oice cutting in on the line had
a soothing timbre which was equally familiar. 'Mr Fredericks is back at Megalith, Miss Shore,' she continued. 'There have been a few, er ...' — discreet pause — 'changes recently and in short Mr Fredericks has been
...' - another discreet pause -
'reinstated.'

'Only I'm now President,' boomed Cy's voice, interrupting. 'Tell her I'm President, not Chairman, President-for-life. We've all the time in the world. And tell her to get here as soon as possible.' Evidently seeing no irony in his last statement, Cy Fredericks flung down the telephone, leaving Jemima alone on the line with the ever-helpful Miss Lewis.

'Can you possibly get him to wait till I finish this glass of champagne?' asked Jemima Shore Investigator.