Chapter Thirteen #2
She went to turn the key in the oak door and found it already unlocked. Had it been left open or was someone inside? Her pulse rate rose as she walked inside.
‘Fiona! What are you doing up here?’
Fiona glanced up with a frown of annoyance and immediately Lara realised how rude she’d been.
‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that. I was just taken aback to see someone in here when I thought the door was locked. How rude of me. What I meant to say was: how can I help you?’
Fiona smiled. ‘It’s all right, my dear. I didn’t mean to startle you. I was only in here to collect one of our special treasures from the safe.’
Lara felt light-headed. ‘You were?’
‘Yes. Some woman from the telly is desperate to see St Anselm’s finger. We all know the bone is from some long-dead and unfortunate animal, but she insisted on seeing it for herself.’
‘Oh. I see, yes, of course.’ Lara stifled a sigh of relief.
‘I hope you’re not cross. This woman – Lucy Wotsit – gosh, I keep forgetting her surname – called me this morning and said she’s doing some research up here for a programme about fake relics and could she call in? I should have told her we’re far too busy but I didn’t dare.’
‘No. She might give Ravendale some publicity.’
‘She might, until she sees this old piece of bone. I had wondered whether to show her the chalice …’
Lara’s throat seemed to seize up.
‘However, it was St Anselm she was interested in. I’ll mention the chalice to her. Though, frankly, the sooner I can get rid of her, the better. I’m taking Henry to a hospital appointment at four.’
‘Do you want me to see her?’ Lara offered, hoping to take control.
‘Would you? You’re so busy.’ Fiona’s phone went off. ‘Bugger. The woman’s here already.’
Lara dived in. ‘I can bring St Anselm down to you if you want to go and greet her. It’s no trouble!’
‘That would be wonderful. We’ll be in the drawing room having coffee.’
Lara waited until she heard the doors on the lift being slid back and a faint whirr as the lift descended.
Once Fiona was safely gone, she heaved a sigh of relief, closed the strong room door, unlocked the safe and retrieved the carved wooden casket that contained the ‘finger’.
The box was about the size of a small jewellery box, with a carving of Saint Anselm on its lid.
She placed it carefully on the table while she relocked the safe and scrambled the combination.
‘Hi there. Not thinking of doing a runner with the chalice, are you?’
Lara turned around, her pulse rate taking off like a bonfire-night rocket. At this rate, she’d be the one having a heart attack, not Henry.
Somehow Flynn had crept into the strong room without her realising.
‘Would you mind not doing that, please!’
‘Doing what?’
‘Creeping into a room suddenly.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, with a downturn of the mouth, then grinned. ‘The door was ajar and I heard you muttering in here. Or praying, I wasn’t sure which.’
‘Both, and don’t joke about it.’
‘Are you OK?’ he asked, serious now.
‘Just about.’ She lowered her voice. ‘I had a very close shave with Fiona. She was here when I walked in and about to open the safe.’
‘Jesus. Not to get the chalice?’
‘No, but, for all I knew, she might have been about to. In the end, she only wanted St Anselm’s finger.’
‘His what?’ Flynn pulled such a face that Lara almost laughed.
‘His finger bone. It’s actually been proven to be an animal bone passed off as a saint’s relic, but the reliquary that holds it is thirteenth century and very beautiful. It’s on the table over there, actually. No, please don’t touch it.’
Flynn held up his hands and curled his lip in horror. ‘I wouldn’t dream of touching St Anselm’s finger.’
‘It’s not funny,’ Lara said in exasperation, although under other circumstances, she’d have had a fit of the giggles at his expression. ‘I just managed to stop Fiona from opening the safe and offered to take the reliquary downstairs. Why are you up here anyway?’
‘I had to come up to the attics to collect an old stereo set and speakers and stuff for the recycling centre. I also just dropped off some new Christmas lights for Henry’s tree. I’m going down now with the electrical junk. I’ll give you a lift. Ha ha.’
‘Very funny,’ Lara said, then sighed. ‘Come on, then. Knowing my luck, if I take the stairs, I’ll probably fall down them and break St Anselm’s finger.’
Flynn called the lift and wheeled a small truck loaded with the dusty sound system, a tea urn and a plate warmer inside.
It was an old-fashioned goods elevator, much larger than a passenger lift. It had a metal grille and a heavy door that you slid back before stepping out. Lara stepped gingerly inside and Flynn closed the door and metal grille. With the truck inside, there wasn’t lots of room left.
Flynn sniffed at the control panel with its brass buttons. ‘This is a real museum piece. Look. There are only two buttons. Up or down. That’s it.’
He pushed one and there was a clanking and whirring noise before the lift started to descend slowly.
Lara cradled the reliquary in her hands, observing Flynn. Even with dusty hair and in dusty jeans, he still looked gorgeous. In a confined space, he seemed taller and rangier than ever.
‘Colleting old stuff from the attics seems a trivial job for you,’ she said, as the lift made its arthritic way down from the third floor.
‘I wanted to sound out Henry and Fiona about the Spectacular. The Christmas lights and attic stuff gave me an excuse. They seem very pleased with how it went.’
‘They are. We are definitely in their good books.’
‘If only they knew the truth … Whoa!’
Lara steadied herself with a hand on the lift wall. The cabin had juddered and stopped.
Flynn rolled his eyes and pushed the button again. Nothing happened.
He peered at the panel. ‘Hmm …’
‘What does “hmm” mean?’
Flynn pushed both buttons but the lift stayed motionless. ‘Hmm,’ he said again. ‘I suppose I could try to take the panel off, but I don’t have my tool kit with me.’
Lara waited a few seconds, then said, ‘So we’re stuck?’
‘Yes, but I’m sure we’ll soon be out of here. You won’t be trapped with me for long.’
Lara suppressed a sigh. Knowing her luck, she wouldn’t bet on it. Now she had Fiona and the TV historian waiting in the drawing room for St Anselm’s finger. What if Fiona decided to go back up to the treasury herself?
What’s more, she was acutely aware that she was now stuck in very close proximity with a man she fancied like mad.