Caribbean Sunset with a Yellow Parrot (The Belchester Chronicles Book 5) Page 6

  The hot sauce in the omelette was a real surprise, in that it was very palatable and less scorching to the mouth than they had expected. What Maria hadn’t told them about was its unique quality of burning more on the way out, than on the way in, but they’d find that out for themselves during the next twenty-four hours.

  The pancakes also went down a treat, but they had slowed down by then, and by the time the last one had disappeared down Lady A’s throat, they were both bloated but content. Then the phone rang.

  ‘Hello, Sniffy. Windy here. Can you meet me out front? Cat fight at number one. Spit-spot!’

  Lady Amanda headed purposefully towards the door. There was always the chance of some serious fall-outs between the girls. Why should life be any different from when they were at school, just because they were now all elderly? Windy had been head girl, and Lady Amanda supposed she too had been summoned because she had been ink monitor in their early years there, and a prefect towards the end of their school careers.

  Windy was already standing out in the road, her make-up immaculate and wearing spangled flip-flops, a white hat, and the most blinding full-length orange and pink kaftan. ‘Hi ho, Sniffy. Time for the law to intervene,’ she tootled, and marched down towards the first house on the other side of the development walking at such a pace that Lady Amanda had a hard task to make her short and rather chubby legs move fast enough to keep up.

  ‘What,’ puff puff, ‘happened?’ Huff huff. ‘What started,’ suck blow, ‘this particular fight?’ she asked, fighting to get her breath.

  ‘Well, you remember that Fflageolet’s other name at school was Ffion the Ffilcher? She had that year or two when she turned into a mad kleptomaniac? It seems she might be at it again. Horseface called and said that Fflageolet had stolen her diamond tennis bracelet, and wouldn’t give it back, let alone own up to taking it. The whole thing got physical when Horseface was still on the phone to me.’

  By now they had reached the first villa, and the sound of angry curses and screams could be heard from within. Windy marched straight in and followed the row upstairs to the landing, where Fflageolet stood on tiptoe to reach a handful of Horseface’s hair, and Horseface had a hand round her housemate’s throat.

  ‘Quit it, girls! Maintenant!’ yelled Windy, who had always had a gob on her, and the action froze mid-curse. ‘Take your hands off each other and tell me, sensibly and quietly, what the bloody hell is going on here? Is this the way to act at an old school reunion? Whatever would Mrs Huddlestone-Black have said if she’d caught you like this?’

  The name of their former formidable headmistress had a sobering effect on both combatants, and they hung their heads in shame. ‘Now, what in the name of all that’s holy has happened here?’ asked Windy in a slightly quieter but still stern tone of voice.

  ‘She stole my tennis bracelet,’ hissed Horseface, malignantly. ‘It’s just like before, at school.’

  ‘Didn’t,’ came back a harsh and furious reply. ‘I never touched her filthy tennis bracelet.’

  ‘Did.’

  ‘Didn’t’

  ‘Did.’

  ‘Shut up!’ roared Windy. ‘Both of you. Now, let’s go downstairs. I want you in separate rooms to tell your stories, then we’re going to sort this out one way or another. Don’t start!’ she roared, as Fflageolet opened her mouth to protest again. ‘Downstairs. Now. Both of you.’

  Taking the lead herself, she told Lady Amanda to go behind to act as a sort of sheepdog, in case one of them tried to make a break for it, and ensconced Horseface in the kitchen and Fflageolet in the sitting room, where she told Lady Amanda to remain, on guard.

  Flouncing off to the kitchen, her various necklaces and bracelets, mostly of shell, jangled as she strode into the domestic quarters, and sat down at the kitchen table to begin her interrogation of how and what had actually happened, or was supposed to have happened.

  Five minutes later, she was back. ‘Horseface says she went into the bathroom last night and took her bracelet off, putting it on the washbasin while she had a quick shower. Having taken rather a lot of rum punch, she forgot it when she came out, and just went straight to bed. She said that when she went to retrieve it this morning, it was gone.’

  ‘I swear to God I never even saw her rotten bracelet. I’d gone to the other bathroom to have a bit of a soak, and I only went into that one to use the “facilities” before I got into bed. I didn’t see anything on the wash hand basin when I washed my hands after, um, you know,’ protested the accused.

  Windy was silent for a few moments, to consider her verdict. Finally, she said, ‘Come on, we’re all going up to that bathroom right now.’ Calling Horseface from the kitchen, she put them into the order in which they had come downstairs, and led them straight to the wash hand basin in question.

  Opening the cupboard beneath the basin, she extracted a wrench, and hauled at the bolt on the U-bend until it loosened. She then removed it by hand, and out fell a cascade of sparkling diamonds, strung together, with the addition of a few hairs and bits of toothpaste, on a white gold setting.

  ‘There you go!’ she said in triumph. ‘These sinks have open plug-holes. This is not the first time something like this has happened, and it certainly won’t be the last. May I suggest that you never leave anything precious on the surround of the basin, and always keep the plug in when the basin is not in use, so that nothing else can escape that way. Now, kiss and make up, like good girls.’

  Horseface and Fflageolet glared at each other under beetling brows, still not quite certain that it had been a false alarm. ‘Do as you are told! Maintenant!’ – this had been her magic word as head girl – ‘or I shall put you both in detention, and you shan’t come out with us tonight!’

  Slowly, the frowns and glares dissolved, and within a couple of minutes, both housemates were apologising to each other for what they had said and done during their rumble.

  ‘Now, play nicely!’ ordered Windy, and swept her way imperiously back outside. Lady Amanda followed, and when they were out of sight of villa number one, they both dissolved into laughter. ‘It was just like old times, wasn’t it?’ chuckled Windy.

  ‘And you haven’t lost the power you had as head girl,’ agreed Lady Amanda, with a big grin slapped across her face. ‘You were absolutely marvellous. A dowager duchess couldn’t have done better.’

  ‘Oh, I say! Really, Sniffy?’

  ‘Absolutely!’

  ‘Get that Hugo of yours on to the starting blocks when you get back. Beep-Beep and I are going to have a bit of a round of pool games for the rest of the morning, then we’re going to have a barbecue lunch in the shade of the palms. We can all have a siesta, or do a bit of house-viewing, this afternoon.

  ‘This evening, I’ve got Winstone coming over again to take us, first to Uncle Obediah’s Rum Keg Landing Beach Bar, actually on the beach, for a bit of a chill, then we’ll go on to the Lizard Lounge for a bit of a bop. There are only cocktails there until about eight, then they start a disco. We can grab a bite whenever we want while we’re there. There’s always food on the go, for as and when customers want it. What do you think?’

  ‘Ambitious programme, Windy, don’t you think?’ replied Lady A.

  ‘Not if we all opt for the siesta, and do a viewing of the properties for sale en masse tomorrow. We’ll all be as fresh as daisies after a couple of hours’ snooze, post-luncheon. In fact, we’ll all be raring to go again. Trust me. I’ve lived here for years.’

  ‘Well, I might trust you, but I don’t know if Hugo will.’

  ‘I bet old Hugs will be really up for shaking his booty with all of us fine females,’ replied Windy, with a confident smile.

  ‘I shouldn’t bet your shirt on it,’ replied Lady Amanda, remembering the fiasco of their only visit to the ship’s disco. ‘It can get quite chilly here at night, or so I’ve heard, and he won’t like that.’

  But the planned viewing either this afternoon or the next day would have to be postponed.

&
nbsp; Hugo was a bit grumpy upon being informed of the plans for the day, commenting that this was his first time in tropical parts; that it felt like his days were being as strictly timetabled as they had been at school, and that he wouldn’t stand for it much longer. He finished this tirade with a heartfelt ‘harumph’, simultaneously expelling air through his nostrils, looking and sounding for all the world like a disgruntled walrus, and gave Lady Amanda a challenging look.

  ‘Don’t worry, Hugo. She’ll get tired of it in a few days. She really just wants to sell us all some houses, so when she’s done her bit as good-time party hostess and showcased the island, she’ll get down to brass tacks, and we can all have a bit of a breather. Don’t be an old stick-in-the-mud. You only live once,’ she chided him.

  ‘As long as this flatulent person doesn’t cause me to die of exhaustion in the meantime. By the way, why was she called Windy at school?’

  ‘If you think of what you’ve just said about her, you’ll find you’ve hit the nail right on the head,’ replied Lady A with a basilisk stare.

  ‘Flatulence?’ queried Hugo, his eyes almost popping out.

  ‘Precisely. You should be safe enough today, though. She’ll be eating barbecued food for lunch, and the amount of charcoal on that should help considerably. And, by the way, she referred to you as “Hugs” just now.’

  Hugo’s mouth fell open at this impertinence, and he scuttled upstairs as quickly as he could to get changed, hoping that he didn’t find himself alone with this female windy wonder. His mother had been very sensible to carry a vinaigrette of smelling salts in her handbag – just in case.

  When they arrived at the back of Cocktails, both wearing T-shirts, Hugo in shorts, and Lady Amanda in a mid-calf cheesecloth skirt she had purchased in Belchester market, everyone else was in their costumes and in the water, happily playing with a variety of inflatables.

  ‘Got your cozzies on under there?’ called Wuffles, who was now sitting on the side of the pool getting her breath back. On receiving a reply in the affirmative, she continued ‘Well, get on in here. We decided not to start the games until you two arrived. You’re the last.’

  ‘I don’t know if I want to play games,’ muttered Hugo into Lady A’s ear.

  ‘I think you’ll find that you don’t have much of a choice,’ replied Lady Amanda, slipping off her outer clothes, and pulling her already-inflated pink ring round her middle. ‘Last one in’s a Brussels sprout!’ And with this, she jumped into the pool, only to find it was so shallow that end that the ring didn’t reach the water. ‘Bother!’ she exclaimed, and began to march doggedly out, sinking further and further as the water deepened.

  Hugo sighed, and reluctantly removed his T-shirt and shorts, leaving his flip-flops until he got to the very edge of the pool and was just contemplating the water from halfway along it when a cry of ‘Banzai!’ distracted him, and Windy launched herself at him, having got out and crept up from behind. Both of them went into the water, Hugo screaming like a girl, with Windy clinging on determinedly round his waist.

  When he finally resurfaced, puffing like a grampus, Windy had breast-stroked her way to the far end of the pool where the deepest water was, and waved at him impertinently, calling, ‘Will you be my secret sweetheart, Hugs, dearest, if we can keep news of our romance from Beep-Beep?’

  Hugo turned as red as a … a … very red thing, and doggy-paddled his way to the shallow end where he would be able to get his feet on the bottom. Forgetting what had just happened to his housemate, he misjudged where the metre mark might be, and ended up beaching himself, his ample stomach lifting him slightly out of the water, before be finally came to a standstill.

  Before he could drown in embarrassment, if not in actual pool water, Windy shouted, ‘Three cheers for Hugs. He’s really got the tropical party spirit’, and he had to hide his face as they all proceeded to do just that.

  As the echoes of the cheers still rung under the garden palms, Enid and Beauchamp appeared. It would seem that they considered their marriage well and truly consummated now, and Windy had made sure she left a message on their answering machine, just in case they fancied venturing over to join in the compulsory fun.

  Three cheers rang out again, for the newlyweds, and Enid went as crimson as Hugo had done just a minute or so ago. There were some rather obscene catcalls from the pool area, but these were ignored and their source remained unidentified. The old girls knew the ones who were the likely culprits, and treated their crude remarks with the contempt they deserved.

  What happened next really caught Hugo and Lady A’s attention. They had never seen Beauchamp in anything other than his impeccable butler’s attire, or Enid in anything other than sensible, covering clothes. Now, they stripped down to their swimming attire, and Enid suddenly didn’t look as old as she used to in her sensible tweeds and conservative frocks.

  Granted, she had renewed a lot of her wardrobe with more colourful outfits since she had become engaged to Beauchamp, but Hugo and Lady Amanda still thought of her as an old dear. In her bikini she proved to be quite a bit younger and, watching from the poolside, Beep-Beep could appreciate why they had not emerged from their marital bed for so long.

  Beauchamp’s body was also a bit of a surprise as, although he was rather older than his new wife, he evidently kept in shape, making Lady Amanda suspect that somewhere, in the unused rooms of Belchester Towers, there must be quite a lot of gym equipment. Not only was he more hirsute than she would have guessed, but his musculature was well-developed, and he caused quite a few wolf-whistles of appreciation from the oldies there present.

  They both jogged down to the deep end, held their noses in unison, and jumped simultaneously, not reappearing until they had swum underwater to the very middle of what was quite a large pool. The smattering of applause that greeted this act of synchronisation was quelled by a loud two-fingered whistle from Windy, who announced that the games were about to begin, and that she would organise them into teams for this.

  As the smell of burning charcoal filled the air, they played in two teams, first passing a balloon through their legs and on to the next team member – Lady A electing to stand in the shallow end for this, others choosing the difficulty of the deep end, simply for the hilarity it caused as they tried to push an air-filled balloon down deep enough to pass between their knees.

  Next, a net was seemingly effortlessly erected across the pool, and a game of volleyball commenced, again, some of them electing not to be able to touch the bottom, others – wonder who? – choosing to stand in the shallowest water possible. It wasn’t long, however, before the smell of barbecuing chicken and pork filled the air, and a halt was called before someone passed out with hunger. They had worked up quite an appetite with their games, and some of them were halfway out of the pool before Windy shouted, ‘Let’s debag Hugs again.’

  The ensuing half-hour will remain undetailed, as Hugo fought fiercely to retain the security of what he considered to be his very private parts, his eventual defeat, and his language afterwards, as the old girls played with his swimming trunks, making quite a game of it before they let him put them back on before he got out of the water.

  By this time, Enid and Beauchamp were the centre of attention, and it was only as the two old friends began to approach the area where Beep-Beep was handing round plates fragrant with barbecued corn, plantain, and meat, that Windy sidled up to them and asked if she could have a word with ‘good old Sniffy’ in private, later on.

  Lady Amanda graciously agreed, although her mind immediately went into a foment of speculation, but she managed to contain it long enough to ask why Douglas, their darling Adonis, had failed to join them, yet again.

  ‘I simply don’t know what that boy gets up to when he’s here. He comes out every four to six months, says he’s got business to catch up with, and won’t let anyone, not even a maid, into the house. He always takes the same villa, and asks me if I can save it till the last to sell. I suppose he wants to buy it at some poi
nt in the future, but he’s really a mystery to me,’ she explained, a nest of anxious wrinkles gathering in the centre of her forehead.

  ‘He seems to be a law unto himself, but I can hardly refuse the rental. We could do with the cash. Anyway, least said, soonest mended, as we always used to say at dear old St Hilda’s.’

  With that, all three of them went towards the rest of the gang at the barbecue to collect their plates of food, Lady Amanda in a pensive mood, wondering what it was that Windy wanted to discuss with her that demanded absolute privacy: after all, she knew all the old girls. Why had she chosen her?

  Rum punch was served with the food, although it proved to be a rather less potent mix than they had imbibed at the Parakeet Club the night before. Nevertheless, its soporific effects after their exercise in the sun and a bellyful of barbecued food meant that all the old girls opted for a siesta that afternoon to refresh themselves for the evening, and it was agreed that they would embark on the villa viewing the next day.

  Catching Windy’s eye just before they left, this most glamorous of the old girls approached them and said, ‘I’ll catch up with you later, Sniffy. I’ll just give things a bit more thought before I pour out my heart to you.’

  Whatever could she mean? Lady Amanda returned to their villa terribly frustrated at this delay in getting her teeth into what she considered would be a very juicy story, for Windy, after all, had been head girl, and Lady A just a humble ink monitor and prefect.

  Chapter Seven

  After a frustrating quarter of an hour, her mind swirling with thoughts about what Windy could possibly want to confide in her, Lady Amanda eventually slipped into the realm of the Sandman, waking only once, when Hugo shook her shoulder and said he could hear her snoring from the room across the landing; a fact she denied, but Hugo blamed on the alcohol she had drunk at lunchtime. She had snored occasionally on board ship, but Hugo had been so run ragged himself with the ghastly playfulness of the old ladies that he’d managed to ignore it and get back to sleep.