Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
Several photographs fell to the floor and as Hugo stooped to retrieve them, he could hardly believe his eyes.
A man sat on a bed wearing a variety of outfits, from a large towelling nappy and bonnet to a tightly fitting lace corset with sheer black stockings.
His bushy pubic hair poked out of a silky red thong.
With a rolling pin in one hand, he held a long black dildo in the other and next to him on the bed a cucumber and melon could be seen.
Hugo stared in horror as the images became more explicit.
His hands shook in shock and his heart hammered for it was quite obvious that the man in the photographs was none other than Hugo himself, caught in the most compromising of positions.
A neatly typed note fluttered onto the carpet and Hugo grabbed it.
The note contained details of a bank account and a demand for a large amount of money. It was to be paid in the next forty-eight hours or, the blackmailer threatened, the photographs would be sent to the press.
Hugo imagined the headlines:
Here We Go Round the Lord Mulberry Bush. New Peer in Porno Pics!
The family would never get over the shame! Henry would have a heart attack if he thought that his brother was soiling their good name and he could kiss goodbye to his peerage. What the hell was he going to do? Hugo closed his eyes and tried to quell his rising fear.
Suddenly he had an idea. He must tell Andy!
He would know how to deal with it and maybe find out who the blackmailer was.
Yes, of course! Andy would help him. Hugo stuffed the photographs back in the envelope and shoved it under the chair.
In the meantime, he decided, he must act as if everything was normal and not spoil his brother’s night.
Patting his pocket, he made sure that the ring was safe, then opened the door and stepped into the corridor.
As he hurried along the hallway, he reached for his handkerchief and wiped beads of sweat off his brow.
Nothing must spoil his brother’s evening, Hugo muttered, nothing at all!
* * *
Hattie stood outside, watching the guests gather in the conservatory with many spilling out onto the patio.
Grouped together for warmth, most wore coats and having had a wonderful dinner now looked forward to the fireworks that were about to begin.
She saw Sir Henry and Lucinda take seats at the front of the crowd, while Hugo slid onto a chair alongside.
A waiter handed out blankets and hot toddies.
Hattie watched Hugo and noted that he seemed on edge.
He was talking to Andy and kept glancing from side to side.
James Bond has decided to put in an appearance!
Hattie thought cynically as she watched the two men, heads together, deep in conversation.
Andy stepped back and stared at Hugo incredulously.
Hugo was shaking his head as Andy began to pat his arm, as if to reassure, and Hattie wondered what on earth was being discussed.
‘Everything seems to have gone very well.’ Jo came alongside Hattie and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. ‘Here, keep warm, the fireworks are about to start.’
Hattie wondered what fireworks were brewing between Hugo and Andy but Hugo was now helping Sir Henry to his feet.
Suddenly, Hugo started waving his arms in an attempt to silence the crowd.
‘What on earth . . .’ Jo said as she watched Hugo reach into his pocket and pass something to his brother.
‘Ladies and gentlemen!’ Hugo called out. ‘Can I have your attention for one moment, please?’
The crowd hushed and people leaned in to catch Hugo’s words.
‘It is my greatest pleasure to tell you that love has blossomed here at Boomerville.’ Hugo smiled at his brother who was helping Lucinda to her feet.
‘Bleedin’ hell,’ Hattie said, ‘he’s going to propose . . .’
‘Shush, I can’t hear.’ Jo nudged Hattie and strained to catch Hugo’s words.
‘Henry, old boy, I’ll hand over to you.’ Hugo beamed at his brother.
Sir Henry moved forward and, leaning heavily on his cane, began to get down on one knee.
‘Christ, he’ll never get up again.’ Hattie moved forward but Jo held her back.
‘Lucinda, my dearest Lucinda,’ Sir Henry croaked as he teetered on one knee, ‘will you do me the greatest honour of becoming my wife?’ He looked into Lucinda’s eyes.
Time seemed to stand still and the crowd were silent as they waited for her answer.
‘Oh, dear Henry,’ Lucinda cried, ‘of course I will, yes . . . Yes!’
As if on cue, a flurry of fireworks shot into the sky and rockets exploded, sending cascading confetti of brilliant white stars to float earthwards behind the happy couple.
‘How utterly romantic!’ Jo cried out and clasped her hands to join in with the cheering and clapping as everyone circled around to give their congratulations.
Hattie stood on her tiptoes and watched anxiously as Sir Henry was helped up and onto his feet. The old boy had turned quite pale.
Concerned, Hattie pushed through the crowd.
‘Let me through!’ she ordered as she made her way to Sir Henry’s side. He seemed to be leaning heavily on Lucinda. Oblivious to her fiancé, Lucinda held out her sparkling ring as fireworks continued to light up the sky.
‘I say, old girl,’ Sir Henry began as Hattie reached his side, ‘wouldn’t happen to have a glass of water? I’m feeling a little bit faint.’
‘Move back!’ Hattie yelled. ‘Get something for him to sit on!’ She shoved the crowd away and, thrusting her arms under Sir Henry’s, gently eased him onto a chair.
‘Is something wrong?’ Jo knelt beside Hattie, who’d removed Sir Henry’s turban. As his eyes began to close, Hattie gently wiped beads of perspiration from his brow with one end of her sari. Hattie could see that his colour was fading and his lips had turned blue.
‘Someone call an ambulance,’ Hattie said. ‘For God’s sake get some medical help.’
‘I’m on it!’ James called out and reached for his mobile phone.
Lucinda had fallen to one side in a faint and Bob, having caught her, began to fan her face. Hugo stared at his brother in horror and as Sir Henry’s breaths became shorter, he staggered back in disbelief.
Another chair was quickly found and Hugo eased into it, his shock clear to all.
Jo put her arm around Hattie’s shoulders as she watched her friend stroke Sir Henry’s face.
‘Come on, stay with us you daft old codger.’ Hattie spoke kindly with reassurance but tears were pouring down her cheeks. With trembling fingers, she gently loosened the buttons on his shirt and eased the cane gripped in his hand.
Stricken, Hattie turned to Jo and whispered, ‘Let’s hope we’re not too late.’