“Well, if we are all finished trampling my sage, perhaps it’s time to come back into the house.”
Some time later, after getting Davies back into the basement, now chained to a chair at Grandad’s insistence, I sent one more message to Viktoria. Sitting at the kitchen table, rubbing my temples and willing the fist full of Paracetamol I’d taken to kick in, I listened to Da and Grandad go at it hammer and tongs whileDa made up a plate.
He was worried his new friend Alec had missed lunch.
“Da, do you think I’m an idjit to not know there is an entire person in the basement this whole time?”
“Yeah.”
“Da!”
“Martin, you’re sweet fella, but Fee clearly got her looks from her mother and her brain from God knows where. And anyways, if you were knowing he was down there then why for the love of God didn’t you ask what there was a man doing in locked in my basement.”
“I thought he was one of those organic, vegan hippie types you get out here, they can be a bit daft. So maybe you didn’t want him about while Fee was here.”
“I can take care of myself, Da.” They both ignored me.
“And you thought I thought having a bit of chain wrapped about him was the solution to that rather than, say having him leave?”
Da looked a bit abashed, “Well, you can be a bit of a strange one yourself, Dad. And Fee. No offense, sweetheart.”
“None taken, Da.”
“Offense taken here,” Grandad growled, going to pick up the finished sandwich and crisp. “At least I don’t have to wear the fecking mask anymore. It itches like a bastard.”
“No, I’ll take it. Davies and I need to talk.”
You wouldn’t imagine that a man chained up in a basement, hands behind his back, wearing old farm clothes - he’d gotten Da to give him a henley before he was taken back to the basement - could look not merely satisfied but smug, but Davies was clearlya man of parts.
“Fee. Feeeeee. Fee. Short for Fiona, no doubt. A pretty name.” When he said Fee I could feel it, like he was licking each letter in place of licking me.
“Very pretty, not mine, but very pretty.” I sat down on the bed, facing him, the plate balanced on my denim covered knees. “There are 3,194 billionaires in the world, a world in which people regularly go to bed hungry. Children go to bed hungry. In which it is harder and harder to grow food because of the environment being murdered by those billionaires. But never mind that for now.
“About 167 of those billionaires live in the UK. One of every, oh, about 415,000 people. Not many at all. And they are important, oh so important to industry, to finance, to the technology, the social world, to the fucking Royals. If one of these precious billionaires disappears there should be chaos, rioting in the streets of Knightsbridge. Corgis and polo ponies living together. Which begs the question, why oh why is no one looking for you?”
“No idea, since you took my phone, and your father lost his somewhere, I haven’t been able to check the news. Maybe one of my foxhounds pissed on Prince William’s riding boots and they are punishing me for it? Hey,” he leaned forward, a golden lock of hair falling on his forehead, shading those poison green eyes, “speaking of going to bed hungry, can I have one of those crisps? Of course, you’ll have to feed it to me...”
His voice dropped straight into my knickers.
Shit.
Nope.
“I thought you might want this more than a snack.”
I pulled his watch out of my pocket and dangled it in front of him, trying not to be too offended when he looked even hungrier for it than he did for me. Or the crisps.
He sat back, schooling his expression, “Why?”
“Because you didn’t hurt my father, when I know you could have. And I did a little research and I know this wasyourfather’s. It seems fair.”
Putting the plate aside, I got up and walked behind him, and strapped the watch to his wrist, the supple leather groaning as I may have pulled the strap a bit tighter than was strictly required.
“Thank you, Fee,” he spoke softly, more serious, more intimate, than a whisper.
“Now, tit for tat,” I said, sitting back down, knowing now he was going to be looking at my tits, “the real reason they aren’t looking for you.”
“My being gone would be bad for all sorts of my businesses. Crisp. Please.” He said the last with a grin.
