Kate Kingsbury - Wedding Rows

“They know we can’t jump down there.” Florrie pointed to the ground below. “We’d break our necks.”

“Per’aps.” Nellie finished the pork pie, then brushed the crumbs from her fingers. She got to her feet, wincing as her muscles reminded her of the hours she’d spent lying on the hard floor.

She studied the drop below. It had to be at least twenty feet. Maybe she could lower Florrie closer to the ground. Nah. Even if she hung by her feet, which would be quite a trick, and held Florrie’s hands, there’d still be too much of a drop.

There wasn’t even a rope or anything to use to climb down. She’d searched every inch of the loft. No, the boys knew what they were doing when they’d made them climb up there. She’d just have to find another way to outwit them.

“I wonder if they’re still looking for you,” Florrie said. “I bet they don’t even know I’m missing.”

“They must know by now.” Nellie could tell by the way the sunlight crept down the cracks in the walls that it was late afternoon. “I wish I had a watch. I hate not knowing what time it is.”

“Well, it’s not going to make any difference to us soon, is it.”

Nellie’s patience finally gave out. “Shut up whining, Florrie! They’re not going to kill us, so there. The worst they’ll do is leave us here to rot after they’ve done what they came to do on the base.”

Just as she said it a crackle of thunder made them both jump.

Florrie uttered a little shriek. “Oh, my, oh, my!”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to let that happen,” Nellie said firmly. “I’ll find a way to get us out of here. Just let me think about it for a while.” She sat down, trying not to let on how scared she felt inside. Right then she couldn’t see any way to escape. Even if she could come up with a plan to get the boys caught, there was no guarantee it would work. Or even if it did, there was no way of knowing if the boys would let on about where she and Florrie were. Things weren’t looking too bright at all.

It wasn’t until late that evening that Elizabeth remembered the proofs still tucked into her handbag. She’d meant to leave them at Priscilla’s flat with Fiona, but the news of Florrie’s disappearance had thrust it from her mind.

Annoyed with herself for her befuddled state of late, she took out the photographs and eagerly looked through them. She found what she was looking for almost at once. A shot of her and Earl, standing side by side, toasting each other with glasses of champagne in their hands.

They were smiling at each other, a private moment that had been caught by Dickie Muggins’s shrewd eyes and recorded for posterity. Feeling more than a little guilty, Elizabeth slipped the proof into her desk drawer. Priscilla would not miss that one, she reassured herself. Neither she nor Wally were in the picture.

Quickly she thumbed through the rest of them. Both she and Earl were in several of the candid shots of the guests, but at a distance, and not noticeable at all. Perhaps later on she would ask Dickie to print an enlargement from the proof she’d kept, and she would have it framed as a gift for Earl.

She studied a picture of guests, helping themselves to food from the long table with the wedding cake in the background. There was Malcolm and Fiona, laughing together, and on the other side of the table was Rodney saying something in his wife’s ear. Daphne didn’t appear too happy with what he had to say. A fierce frown marred her face, and her hunched shoulders suggested she was agitated about something. Remembering Rodney’s mention of Daphne’s headache that evening, she wondered again if they’d been arguing.

The finished photographs would look so much better than the proofs. The dull finish would be brighter, and the faces so much more distinct. Absently she brushed at the picture with her thumb. The white specks she’d noticed on Rodney’s shoulder didn’t budge. Apparently they were embedded in the print.

She thought again about the conversation she’d had with the Winterhalters later that evening. Remembering something else that had been said, she studied Daphne’s face more closely. The woman did look rather agitated. Of course. Now she knew what it was that had been bothering her all along.

She glanced up at the clock. Violet had told her the Winterhalters were in the library playing cards. She got up and hurried out to the landing. The door of the Winterhalters’ room was a little way down on the left. Reaching it, she tapped lightly on the door.

After waiting a moment or two, she tapped again, louder this time, just in case Daphne was taking a nap. When still no one answered her, Elizabeth carefully opened the door and peeked inside. To her relief the room was empty.

It took her only a moment to reach the wardrobe and open it. The suit that Rodney had worn to the wedding hung next to his wife’s bridesmaid gown. Quickly Elizabeth examined the suit. The shoulders were clean.

Frowning, she examined the floor of the wardrobe. Not even a speck of dust. Sadie did her job well. She must remember to praise the girl. Disappointed, she rose to her feet. She was about to close the wardrobe door when an idea occurred to her.

She bent her knees once more and reached for a leg of Rodney’s trousers. Folding back the turnup, she found what she was looking for-tiny specks of colored confetti. The confetti that supposedly had been missing until after the Winterhalters had left the village hall. The same confetti that had been sprinkled all over Brian Sutcliffe’s body.

“Why are we going out so late?” Polly asked nervously. “It’s going to be dark soon.”

Pedaling alongside her on the coast road, Sadie took a hand off a handlebar to push her hair out of her eyes. “You wanted to make sure the storm was over, didn’t you? Besides, we’re going to need the dark to sneak in and rescue the girls.”

“That’s if we find them.” Polly chewed her bottom lip. The closer they got to the windmill, the less she wanted to be there. She hoped Sadie knew what she was doing. “What if the bobbies have already searched the windmill and found no one there?”

“Then we look somewhere else. It’s just a first place to start looking.”

“But if it’s dark, how are we going to see them without lights?”

“I brought a torch with me, didn’t I.”

“But-”

Sadie twisted her head to look at her. “Polly, if you’re having second thoughts about this then you’d better go home. I don’t need to be worried about you as well as the musketeers.”

Polly swallowed hard. “I’m not having second thoughts. I just want to know what to expect, that’s all.”

“If I knew that we’d have nothing to worry about,” Sadie said grimly. “Just be prepared for anything.”

That did nothing to calm Polly’s fears. Her stomach was churning like a keg of butter by the time they reached the turn. The sun had just about disappeared behind the trees, but she could see the top of the windmill sticking up on the hill. “What if they see us coming?”

“They won’t know we’re looking for them, will they.” Sadie swung into the lane. “Besides, if they do, they’ll come to us and we won’t have to go looking for them.”

Polly uttered a squeak of fright. “Then they’ll capture us, too!”

“Not if I attack them with this.” Sadie pointed to the heavy torch in the basket hooked on the front of her bicycle. “I’ll bash them on the head with it.”

Polly stopped pedaling. “What am I supposed to do, then?”

“Kick ’em where it hurts.” Sadie drew away from her, pedaling even faster. “Hit ’em with a stick. Between us we should be able to beat them off.”

Polly gulped. Now she was really scared. She wished she hadn’t eaten bangers and mash for supper. They weren’t sitting well in her stomach.