Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
It was as though I was watching through treacle as the figure lurched at Mason. Whoever it was, they were conspicuous with their dark hoodie pulled right up and over their features. All I could see was a fleeting glimpse of a jutting white chin.
Mason appeared bemused for a few seconds at the sight of the sinister stranger rushing towards him.
What on earth was going on? Was this person intent on hurting Mason?
The figure plunged one hand into their scruffy jogging bottoms.
My imagination pulled up images of a weapon. Before I could think or assess the situation, the words ‘Look out, Mason!’ rang out of my mouth and I clattered forward in my heels, pushing myself against the perpetrator’s bony shoulder.
A chorus of gasps went up from the assorted crowd.
Doing my superhero impression in my strappy summer shoes, however, wasn’t the most sensible decision I’d ever made.
The good news was that I surprised Mason’s attacker every bit as much as I surprised myself.
He staggered in his navy trainers, before recovering his balance and taking off across the grass and down the sloping hill towards Port Starr, with a yelling Caleb bounding after him.
The bad news was that my heel had caught between the cobbles and I was destined to crash to the ground in a most unladylike fashion – until Mason seized me in his arms, elbowing an alarmed Alicia out of the way.
‘He’s gone,’ panted Caleb on his return. ‘He took off down towards the harbour at a fair old lick.’
I could hear my brother’s voice drifting towards me, but I was still cradled in Mason’s strong arms, gazing up into his concerned face. He smelled deliciously of sandalwood.
Mason drank in my features. Our mouths were inches apart. I was like Scarlett O’Hara, swooning and helpless in the arms of Rhett Butler.
Then I remembered where I was. I recalled the other women he’d been escorting. Cold reality took hold and I wriggled out of his grasp. I brushed myself down, too embarrassed to look at the intrigued faces. ‘Who the hell was that?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ faltered Mason, still looking at me. ‘I couldn’t see his face.’ He straightened his waistcoat. ‘Are you all right?’
I snatched a steadying breath and smoothed down my rumpled shirt dress. ‘I’m fine, thanks.’
Alicia hovered for a moment, watching. When Mason gave her a polite smile but turned his attention back to me, her mouth flatlined. ‘I’ll be off, then,’ she mumbled, slinging her camera back around her neck. ‘See you around.’
He took a step closer to examine me. He placed both hands on my bare upper arms. His fingers felt like they were melting into my skin.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he asked, locking eyes with me.
I lowered my hot face and examined my feet. ‘I’m not so sure my right shoe is, though.’
There were some grainy grey scuffs along the heel and front.
‘That was very brave, what you just did,’ admitted Mason. ‘But also, very stupid.’
His words pricked me. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘He could have had a knife or a gun.’
I planted my hands on my hips. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. What would you rather have had me do? Sod off and paint my nails?’
Mason bared his even white teeth. ‘There’s no need to be like that, Poppy.’
‘Like what?’
‘Excuse me?’ interrupted Katie. ‘Come and get a cuppa or something stronger if you prefer, Popps. Then I suggest Mason report the incident to the police.’
‘Report what to the police?’ Tom Henderson, the local reporter, had reappeared and was lurking by the trestle table. ‘Have I missed something? I was just getting into my car and thought I saw—’
‘How good these revamped cottages are now,’ Mason supplied, easily distracting the journalist. ‘Isn’t that right, Poppy?’
Katie and Caleb swivelled their attention from me to Mason and back again. They were almost as confused as I was.
I frowned, ready to quiz Mason as to why he wouldn’t want to report what had just happened, when he lifted his right hand a couple of inches. There had been so much going on, I hadn’t noticed he had hurriedly stuffed a small charcoal-coloured book into his back pocket.
Now he took it out and waggled it at me, while a couple of members of the crowd were muttering something about me being in shock. Then he dropped his hand and the book down by his side, a pleading gaze enveloping his light eyes.
So, it hadn’t been a weapon the hooded man had been reaching for in his pocket. He’d given Mason that book. What sort of mugger handed you something, rather than robbing you?
‘I think I’ll partake of something stronger in a minute. I just need some air for now, if you don’t mind,’ said Mason, fixing me with a meaningful roll of his eyes.
‘It was probably some desperate thug,’ surmised Caleb to Katie, as they wandered back towards the canapes. ‘He’ll have been after Mason’s wallet.’
Mason waited until we had made our way further across the courtyard, with only the noisy clank of fishing boats rising up from the harbour for company. ‘That person didn’t attack me,’ he confirmed, moving closer to me. ‘He wanted me to have this.’
The small grey leather-bound book stared up at me from his outstretched palm.
‘What is it?’
He flicked it open, allowing the ageing pages to flutter in the sea breeze. Slanting loops of black handwriting raced across every page.
‘I’m not sure yet,’ said Mason, his fingertips brushing against the pages.
He turned the book over. Cover and spine carried no title or inscription, giving no indication of its contents – until he flicked to the first righthand page.
‘What is it? What does it say?’
A hint of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. ‘It’s a diary,’ he answered, ‘belonging to someone called Georgina Lapley.’ An optimistic glint stole into his eyes.
‘Lapley? As in Alex Lapley? But why would someone go to such theatrical lengths to get this to you?’
Mason’s thumb caressed the faded, worn indentations on the cover in a strangely erotic fashion. I swallowed hard.
‘I think whoever it was doesn’t want Alex Lapley knowing I’ve got it.’
A kernel of excitement flourished in my stomach. ‘Might this have something to do with the Scarlet Highwayman?’
Mason’s fingers locked tighter around the old diary. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised. Most of the locals know that’s why I’m here.’ The sun sent a raven hue through his wavy hair. ‘I suggest we look into this Georgina Lapley.’
I cocked one fair eyebrow at him. ‘Did you just use the word “we”?’
‘I did,’ said Mason with a wry smile. ‘Just don’t do anything to make me change my mind.’