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The policemen looked dubiously at the thickness of the solid front door and went through the man’s house to have a look for themselves. Red, impatient at the delay, went with them. It was a very small window, only about eighteen inches by nine, and on the second floor.
‘That’s no good; we can’t get through there,’ one of the policemen said, and went to turn away.
‘I could.’ Red caught his arm.
The policeman looked at her tall, slim figure but he shook his head. ‘I couldn’t let you do it. And anyway, we haven’t got a ladder.’
‘I’ve got one,’ the neighbour offered.
‘Great.’ Red grinned. ‘Let’s go get it.’
‘Now you wait a moment, miss. It’s too dangerous; you might fall.’
‘Off a ladder?’ Red laughed. ‘My dad used to take me mountain climbing back home almost as soon as I could walk. Going up a ladder is nothing. And it’ll be a lot quicker than breaking the door down.’
Overcoming his protests, Red propped the ladder against the wall below the window and climbed it easily. Glancing down at the upturned faces of the men below, she was glad that she was wearing trousers instead of a skirt.
Getting through the window was a little tricky; she had to go in head first and wriggle her hips through the gap, then almost fell inside. But she agilely picked herself up and ran into the house and down the stairs to open the door for the paramedics.
Mrs St Aubyn had broken her ankle. She had also banged her head and wrenched her shoulder as she’d tried to grab for the banister rail during her fall down the stairs. It appeared that she had been lying there for at least a couple of hours, although the paramedic said that she’d probably have passed out for some of the time. She was in pain and tearful, but seemed glad that Red was there, gripping her hand as her leg was put into a kind of splint.
‘Please—win you call Linus for me?’ she begged. ‘Tell him what’s happened and where I am.’
‘Yes, of course I will,’ Red soothed. ‘Just tell me his number.’
‘It’s five, nine, three, six, two, eight—oh, no, I mean it’s six, eight, two... Oh, dear, I—I can’t seem to remember.’ And Mrs St Aubyn again began to weep.
‘It’s the bump on your head. You’re probably a bit concussed,’ the paramedic told her.
‘His number is in the book on my desk.’
‘I’ll find it.’ Red ran into the study and found the book, then realised that she didn’t know Linus’s surname. Carrying the book, she ran into the hall as the paramedics lifted Mrs St Aubyn onto a stretcher. ‘What’s his full name?’
“L-Linus Hunt,’ she gasped, then gave a groan of pain as someone touched her injured shoulder.
‘Are you coming to the hospital with the lady?’ one of the paramedics asked Red.
‘What? Oh, yes, I suppose so. Just a minute while I write down this number.’
Flipping through the book, Red found the name. There were two numbers beside it; hastily she wrote them down on a piece of paper and thrust it into her bag, which a policeman had handed to her.
‘Don’t worry about the house; I’ll look after it,’ the neighbour told her as she went to follow the stretcher, adding, ‘Look, here’s Felicia’s handbag. You’d better take that with you.’
The hospital was overworked and understaffed. Although Mrs St Aubyn was whisked away at once, it was quite a while before Red had given all the details she knew to the clerk. Not that they were many. She had no idea with which doctor the voice coach was registered, or who was her next of kin. Red didn’t even know if she was still married.
It suddenly seemed terrible that Red had spent all those hours alone with her tutor and yet knew so little about her. But maybe Linus Hunt would know. She had to queue to use the public phone, but as soon as she was able called his number.
‘This is Cornucopia Productions,’ a female voice answered. ‘I’m sorry there’s no one here to take your call at the moment, but if you’ll leave your name and number your call will be returned as soon as possible.’
An answering machine. Great. It must be his work number, Red realised, and there would naturally be no one there at this time of night. There was no point in leaving a message. Red fed in some more money and called the second number.
The number rang, but again there was the distinct click as a machine switched itself on. This time she recognised the deep voice of the man she’d met at Mrs St Aubyn’s house over a month ago, but his recorded tone was civilised, sober and laconic. ‘Linus Hunt. Sorry I’m not around. I’ll get back to you when I can.’
Red hesitated, not sure whether or not to leave a message. It suddenly occurred to her that she knew nothing about his marital status, although she presumed that he was single. She decided to try again later in the hope that he would be in and put down the receiver.
She made two more calls: the first to Jenny, telling her what had happened, and the second to her date for that evening, cancelling the plans they’d made to go to see a film and afterwards have supper. He wasn’t too happy about it, but when Red said that he could come and sit with her in the hospital waiting area he hastily declined.
For the next three hours Red waited for Mrs St Aubyn to go to surgery to have her ankle set, reading magazines that were ages old, drinking cups of weak coffee and phoning Linus Hunt every hour, without any luck. Finally Mrs St Aubyn was taken to a ward and Red was allowed to see her for a few minutes.
‘How are you feeling?’ she asked gently.
‘My head aches so much,’ was the fretful reply. ‘Did you call Linus?’
‘I tried several times, but he wasn’t home.’
‘Not home?’ The older woman frowned, obviously still muzzy. ‘Oh, of course, I’d forgotten. He’s been away again. But he should be back soon.’ She lifted strained eyes to Red. ‘Look at this terrible nightdress they’ve given me to wear. It’s dreadful. It rubs me and the tapes are broken.’
‘Would you like me to bring you in some of your own things?’
‘Oh, would you? Yes, please. I feel so uncomfortable.’
‘I’ll bring them in first thing in the morning.’
‘And my face lotions and make-up. And a hairbrush.’
Red smiled at her. ‘You must be feeling better already. Here’s your bag. I’ll need your house keys.’
‘You find them.’
‘OK.’
‘Don’t say OK,’ Mrs St Aubyn automatically reproved her.
A nurse came up. ‘I think the patient had better sleep now.’
Straightening, Red prepared to leave, but Mrs St Aubyn grasped her sleeve. ‘Will you do something for me?’
‘Yes, of course—if I can.’
‘Will you stay at my house tonight? In case Linus calls. He’ll be so worried if I’m not there. Please say you will.’
Red hesitated, not at all keen on the idea, but, looking at her tutor’s drawn and pleading face, knew that she really had no choice. ‘Yes, O—All right, I’ll stay there.’
‘Thank you. You’re so very kind.’ The grip on her sleeve relaxed and almost at once Mrs St Aubyn’s eyes fluttered shut as she drifted into a much needed sleep.
It was dark and late when Red came out of the hospital. Not fancying the idea of waiting around for a bus, she took a taxi back to the house in Pimlico.
She went first to the neighbour’s house, told him about Mrs St Aubyn’s operation and also that she would be spending the night in her house, just in case he saw lights on there and called the police. After the trouble she’d been to in climbing through the window, she didn’t want the police breaking down the door to arrest her for burglary.
Letting herself in the front door, Red stood for several minutes in the hall. It seemed strange to be alone in the house, and even stranger to look at the stairs and realise that just a few hours ago Mrs St Aubyn had been lying there in pain and fear.
What if Red hadn’t happened to drop by? Tomorrow was Saturday, when there wouldn’t have been any students coming to the house, and her boyfriend was away, so the poor woman could have been left lying there for days. Red shivered, dropped her bag on the hall chair and went to look for the kitchen, deciding that what she needed was some good hot food.
She found eggs and cheese and made herself an omelette which she took into the sitting room to eat, turning on the television set for company, watching the latest classic serial and wishing that she was in it.
After she’d eaten she turned off the sound and picked up the phone again. By now she knew Linus Hunt’s number off by heart, but there was still no answer and she didn’t leave a message, seeing no point in doing so at that time of night.
Then she called Jenny to tell her that she wouldn’t be coming home and listened in fascination as Jenny told her all about an incident that had happened that night at the bistro where they both worked as waitresses, when two men had come to blows over a girl and nearly wrecked the place.
‘And I missed it all,’ Red wailed.
‘Will you be OK there alone?’ Jenny asked. ‘I’ll come over, if you like.’
But her voice was already sleepy after her night’s work, so Red said, ‘No, I’ll be fine. See you tomorrow afternoon.’
Going upstairs, Red peeked into the rooms. What was obviously Mrs St Aubyn’s bedroom was furnished in exquisite taste—feminine but not overdone. It also contained a king-sized double bed. There was a bathroom and another, smaller bedroom on the same floor, the bed already made up.
Red found a nightdress that fitted quite well but was too short on her, used the bathroom, and got thankfully into the guest bed. She lay awake for a while, feeling as if she was in some strange hotel where she was the only guest, listening to the unfamiliar noises of the house and the quietness of the road outside, but it had been a long day and she soon fell asleep.
It was almost four hours later when some noise penetrated her sleep, bringing her immediately and joltingly awake, her nerves quivering in primitive alarm. She lay still in the darkness, listening, trying to convince herself that it was nothing. Then she heard the slight creak of a stair. But there was no light showing under the door. Someone was creeping up the stairs in the dark!
Red’s first thought was to find something to defend herself with, but the room was unfamiliar and she would have to turn the light on to search around. And if she turned the light on the intruder would know there was someone there, would be warned.
If she stayed quiet in the dark he might go right by. But that would be a cowardly thing to do; she ought to shout and scream, make all the noise she could so that the burglar would turn and get the hell out of there. Easing herself up in the bed, Red searched for the switch on the bedside lamp.
The footsteps were still coming up the stairs, very quietly but very steadily. It occurred to Red that the burglar must have a torch to walk that confidently, but she could see no light flickering under the door.
The burglar reached the landing and started to cross it. Red slid out of bed, found the light switch and turned it on, just as the door of her room opened. She grabbed up a vase and whirled to face the intruder, a tall, powerful man dressed in black, his hand going up to shield his eyes from the light.
Red screamed at the same moment as the man exclaimed, ‘What the hell?’
He took a step towards her and she threw the vase with all her strength. He ducked and it only hit him on the shoulder, but she had already run to the window and torn the curtains apart, was pushing it open, ready to scream for help at the top of her lungs. But she hadn’t got out more than one syllable when the man came up behind her and put a hand over her mouth, pulling her back into the room.
Red immediately began to kick and struggle, but he pinned her arms against her sides, his grip strong, unbreakable. Red bit the hand that was over her mouth and he swore and took his hand away, but the next second, before she could scream, it was at her throat. A flicker of real fear ran through her and Red knew a moment of panic, but then an exasperated voice said in her ear, ‘For God’s sake stop behaving as if you’re going to be raped and tell me who you are, you little fool!’
The voice was curt and angry, but it was one she recognised. Twisting her head round, Red tried to look at him over her shoulder. The man’s grip eased a little and she was able to turn to face him. The man holding her so closely was Linus Hunt.
Her jaw dropped open in surprise and an overwhelming feeling of relief ran through her, but when she didn’t speak Linus said again, ‘Who the hell are you?’
‘I’m—I’m Red McGee.’
Her name didn’t mean a thing to him and he obviously didn’t recognise her. ‘Are you one of Felicia’s pupils? Did she invite you to stay?’
‘Felicia? Oh, you mean Mrs St Aubyn. Yes, I am, and she did—well, in a way.’
Releasing her, he stepped back. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t woken her, the way you screamed out like a frightened schoolgirl.’
‘I didn’t know who you were,’ Red said indignantly. ‘Why didn’t you turn on some lights instead of creeping around in the dark like—like some rapist?’ she retorted, slinging his own insult back at him.
Glancing down at his bitten hand, Linus gave a snort of derision. ‘A rapist wouldn’t stand a chance against you.’
Red glared at him, but in her heart knew it wasn’t so; his strength had been enough to overpower her if he’d really wanted to. Putting that uncomfortable thought out of her mind, she said, ‘Why didn’t you turn the lights on? And why did you come into this room?’
‘Because I didn’t want to wake Felicia, of course.’ He frowned. ‘I’m surprised she hasn’t woken now; she’s generally a very light sleeper.’
Linus made a move towards the door, but Red put a hand on his arm. ‘She isn’t here. I’m afraid there’s been an accident.’
She felt him stiffen under her hand and his face grew tense. ‘An accident? What are you saying?’
There was alarm in his voice, even fear, and Red frowned; he didn’t sound like a toy boy out for what he could get—unless he was worried about his meal ticket, of course. Her voice hardening a little, Red explained, ‘She fell down the stairs. Her ankle is broken and she wrenched her shoulder, but otherwise she’s OK.’
‘Where is she?’ The question was swift, demanding.
‘In hospital. I stayed there until after her ankle was set and saw her in the ward. She’s all right. Really.’
‘I must go to her.’
‘I doubt if they’ll let you see her. She’s been given something to make her sleep.’
‘Which hospital?’
Red told him and he strode out of the room. She heard him go into the main bedroom and pick up the phone. Finding her jacket, Red put it round her shoulders and stood in the doorway, watching as he called the hospital.
Tonight Linus seemed a different person from the unkempt drunk she’d met that first time. He was clean-shaven, clear-eyed and seemed to be fully alert, which made him look younger than she’d first thought. He was also smartly dressed in a well-cut dark business suit, a crisp white shirt and tie.
And she’d been right about him being good-looking once he’d cleaned himself up; he had high cheekbones in a lean face, with a straight nose, and lips that were just right, neither too full nor too thin. His hair was thick and dark, touching his collar, and with a lock that was apt to fall onto his forehead and be pushed impatiently back, as he was doing now as he talked to the sister in charge of the ward. His level brows, too, were dark, as were the lashes that framed his grey eyes.
‘All right. But if she wakes please tell her that I’ll be there first thing in the morning... Yes... Linus Hunt. Thank you.’ Putting the phone down, he turned to look at Red—really looked at her for the first time, his eyes sweeping over her tall, slim figure and mass of auburn hair. ‘Just how do you come to be involved in this?’ he asked.
She pulled the jacket closer over the silk nightgown. ‘I found her. I called round to see her about some more lessons and I saw her through the letter box, so I called an ambulance and went with her to the hospital.
‘She asked me to telephone you, but I couldn’t get any reply, so then she asked me to spend the night here in case you rang.’ Red gave him an assessing look. ‘She was afraid you’d be worried if you called and she wasn’t here.’
‘I rang a couple of times from Zurich airport but the line was engaged,’ Linus said shortly. ‘So I came straight here.’ He lifted an eyebrow. ‘Did you use the phone?’
Red nodded. ‘I called my flat mate to tell her I wouldn’t be home.’ She said it rather defensively, but why she should feel guilty she didn’t know; how was she supposed to have known that he would call at precisely that time?
His face didn’t soften any but he said, ‘It seems that you’ve been put to a great deal of inconvenience on Felicia’s behalf.’
‘It was nothing,’ Red said in embarrassment. ‘I just happened along.’
‘You’re Australian, aren’t you?’
She gave a rueful groan. ‘You’re not supposed to notice the accent.’
Linus grinned, and suddenly he seemed extremely good-looking. ‘That’s what the lessons are for, are they?’ She nodded, but he was already glancing at his watch. ‘It’s four-thirty, and I’ve been travelling all night. I’m going to get some sleep and I’d advise you to do the same.’
‘I don’t need to be advised to do something that simple,’ Red said shortly, strangely disappointed at his obvious lack of interest.
