Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Taste of the Raj evening was underway in the restaurant at Boomerville and the setting had been transformed.
Guests stared in wonder at dozens of tea-lights floating in pretty glass vases surrounded by flower petals and smoking incense and a stunning arrangement of hydrangeas and orchids, which lay along a mantelpiece illuminated by a gold candelabra.
On the tables, place cards sat in elephant-shaped holders and tiny crystals were scattered over the damask cloths, creating a rainbow pattern in the soft light.
Bob looked around and smiled. He was having a wonderful time.
He adored the opulence of the evening and felt completely at home.
Having journeyed to India on many occasions, he had engaged with the culture and considered the vast country to be the cradle of the human race.
Bob found it an extraordinary nation, a spiritual place as well as a land of contrasts with a cacophony of exotic sounds that stayed in his memory long after his visits ended.
Now he sat happily with his fellow diners, enjoying the company of Sir Henry, Hugo and Lucinda.
Students from the cookery class sat with them and all were complimenting each other on their contribution as endless courses of Indian delicacies were served.
‘Best naan you’ve ever tasted,’ Sir Henry said as he dipped a handful of soft dough into a mild pasanda sauce. ‘Took me all morning to make these.’ He pointed at a pile in the centre of the table.
‘Not as good as my samosas.’ Hugo stuffed a tiny vegetable filled parcel into his mouth.
‘Pass the poppadums, please,’ Lucinda said to Bob.
Bob pushed a plate stacked high with thin, crisp-like pancakes towards Lucinda.
He was staggered by the woman’s new demeanour.
Polite and well-groomed were words he would never have used when referring to the ageing artist, but gone was the wild, untamed and scary creature that had haunted the corridors of Boomerville when he’d first arrived.
In its place was a woman who’d transformed herself beyond recognition and Bob was certain that he knew the reason why.
For Lucinda and Sir Henry were certainly an item.
It was clear to all that they now spent every moment together and Bob had no doubt that Sir Henry ventured on many a nocturnal visit to Lucinda’s room. Well, good luck to them, Bob thought, as a dish of kebabs arrived. They will never have these days again, so why not make the most of them?
‘Everyone enjoying themselves?’ Hattie was circulating around the room and stopped to check on Bob’s table.
‘Splendid night, old girl.’ Sir Henry raised his glass. His cheeks were ruddy and his turban had slipped. Lucinda leaned in and, with a loving touch, gently straightened the headdress.
‘Tuck in, plenty more to come.’
As Hattie moved away, she scanned the room.
There was no sign of James Bond and his partner and she wondered where on earth they might be.
She’d gone to a great deal of trouble to pick up an outfit for Kate in Carlisle and was certain that she would have stolen the show and won the ‘Best Dressed at Boomerville’ prize of the night.
Hattie looked for Jo, who might know where the couple were, but could see that she was chatting to James in the Rose Room.
He was dining with a group of females from his class.
Clad in a variety of odd-shaped kaftans and acres of silk wound into saris of all shapes and sizes, the literary harem hung off his every word.
Hattie decided to leave Jo to it and went through to reception. She’d give Kate a ring and see where she’d got to. She picked up a phone and dialled Kate’s room.
There was no reply.
Puzzled, Hattie unlocked a cupboard and ran her fingers along a line of keys until she found a duplicate.
Tucking it into the fabric at her waist, she headed along the corridors until she reached the stairs.
She started to climb and when she reached the top, Hattie stepped onto the gallery and turned towards Kate’s room.
But something made her stop and, tilting her head to one side, she heard footsteps in the corridor leading to the back of the hotel.
Hattie knew that all the guests were downstairs and, curious to see who was about, tiptoed in the direction of the receding steps.
As she approached Sir Henry and Hugo’s door, she saw the shadow of a figure on the far wall as it turned the corner and hurried away.
James Bond!
Hattie wondered what on earth Andy was up to.
The brothers’ door was firmly shut and nothing looked out of place.
Hattie crept further along the corridor.
She heard a door close and a sliver of light appeared from the frame around Andy’s room.
Damn, she’d missed him! Hattie cursed under her breath.
She turned to retrace her steps and when she reached Kate’s room, stopped and listened again.
There wasn’t a sound and Hattie wondered where Kate could be.
Taking her key, she slipped it into the lock, turned the handle and slipped into the room.
‘Who is it?’ Kate called out in the darkness.
Hattie fumbled for a light and flicked it on.
Kate sat up in bed and held the sheet across her chest. Bewildered, she frowned as her eyes adjusted to the light and she recognised Hattie.
‘Gosh, Hattie, what on earth are you doing?’
‘You didn’t come down to the dinner and I wanted to make sure that you’re all right.’ Hattie stared at Kate. The woman looked anxious. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘I thought you were Andy.’ Kate sighed and sank back on the pillows.
Hattie sat on the edge of the bed as Kate raised one arm and brushed a strand of loose hair away from her face. She wore a silk nightdress with shoestring straps and Hattie was horrified to see faint bruising around her arm.
‘Kate, what on earth has happened?’ Hattie reached out and gently touched the finger-shaped shadows.
‘Oh, it’s nothing.’ Kate winced and pulled away.
‘Has Andy hurt you?’
‘He held me a little too tightly.’
‘But he’s made bruises.’ Hattie reached for the sheet and pulled it back to reveal both of Kate’s arms. ‘It must have been a very tight grip?’
‘He wants to get engaged.’
‘And you don’t?’
Kate shook her head.
‘So he hurt you.’
Hattie could feel her blood boil and it was all she could do not to thunder down the corridor and wrench James Bond from his room to give him a taste of his own medicine.
‘Please don’t say anything. I can sort it out.’
‘But surely you don’t want anything to do with him?’
‘I must give him his ring back.’ Kate nodded towards the dressing table where the emerald ring lay on a pottery coaster.
‘Do you want me to stay with you?’
‘No, Hattie, I’m fine, truly.’ Kate took a sip of water from a glass by the bed. ‘Please don’t let me spoil your evening.’
‘Can I tell Jo?’
‘No, I’d rather you didn’t say anything to anyone until I decide what to do.’
‘Very well, but I’m keeping an eye on things and you can rest assured that you’re safe.’ Hattie stood up.
‘Thank you, I appreciate your concern.’
‘We’ll talk in the morning?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Call me if you need anything at all.’
Hattie fussed around Kate, folding and tucking the covers. She refreshed the water and turned on a lamp by the bed. When she was sure that there was no more that she could do, she whispered goodnight and crept out of the room, locking the door behind her.
‘James bloody Bond!’ Hattie cursed and went back to re-join the party.
Hugo slipped away and went up the stairs to his room. His brother had sent him on a mission and entrusted with the important deed; Hugo was determined to follow it to the letter.
He put his key in the lock of the door to their suite and turned on the light. As he stepped into the room, he looked down. A large brown envelope lay on the thick carpet and Hugo bent to retrieve it.
Private & Confidential
For the attention of Hugo Mulberry
The weekly hotel bill, he thought and placed the envelope on a chair. Moving over to a desk, Hugo opened a drawer and searched around until he found a small leather box. It was engraved in gold and he ran his fingers over three raised initials.
E.M.M.
Elisabeth Mary Mulberry
Hugo opened the box and looked at their mother’s ring.
A large ruby set on a cluster of finely cut diamonds.
The stone had come from Burma, purchased when Henry and Hugo’s father, a major in the army, was serving there.
It was a treasure he bought for their mother and commissioned to be set in a ring.
Now the heirloom would grace Lucinda’s finger. For tonight, his brother was going to propose and Hugo had been entrusted with this much-loved piece of family jewellery.
He slipped the box into his pocket and closed the drawer.
Noticing another envelope on the desk, propped up on a pottery coaster, Hugo wrenched it open.
It was the bill for the brothers’ stay at Boomerville.
Hugo moved it to one side. Nothing could be paid without Henry’s agreement and signature.
Their finances were joint. Years ago, Hugo lost a fortune on a reckless property deal and since that time Henry had insisted that he controlled the purse strings to the family fortune.
Hugo looked in the mirror and straightened his turban then picked up the key and headed for the door. His eye caught sight of the brown envelope that was still on the chair. Curious, he picked it up and slid a finger under the seal to rip it open.