Tea Is For Terror Read online

  It was fully dark when everyone had gathered in the hall. The costumed servants, towel draped over their arms, dramatically swept open the doors to the massive dining hall. Claire oohed and ahhed with the rest at the effect. Candles set in massive iron candelabras tucked into each corner lit the dim hall. Smaller replicas were placed at intervals down the length of a huge table. The fire at the far end crackled noisily, cheering the room, creating a feeling of an age long gone. The gaily clad serving wenches poured wine and mead with an enthusiasm matched only by the guests’ thirst. A trio of musicians strummed in the corner while jesters and jugglers competed for the guests’ attention. Their plates, platters really, were heaped time and time again with food not likely to ever be served in the chic restaurants of California. Pigeon tarts, steak and kidney pie, joints of wild boar, creamed onions, roasted potatoes and thick crusted brown bread were all followed by puddings and tarts and cakes beyond description. As the evening progressed the noise grew louder, the banter bolder, the musicians broke into song and the guests, encouraged by the servers, got up to dance a jig or two.

  Claire kept her eye on Jack who flirted with the ladies and encouraged the men and even took Liz on a lively spin around the table at one point in the evening, giving everyone a brief respite from the flash of her camera.

  Arnie seemed fine and was even atypically gregarious, but that could have been attributed to the mead he seemed to be so taken with. He avoided Jack and Claire but socialized with the rest with enthusiasm. Claire, watching him, almost convinced herself she was mistaken about the tone of the scene she had witnessed in the garden.

  CHAPTER

  FIVE

  Claire skipped breakfast in order to sleep longer. The night before had been too much fun. It was hard to get going this morning. She found some comfort in finding she wasn’t the only one straggling bleary-eyed to the coach.

  This trip to Bath was starting early because a friend of Lucy’s had arranged a private tour of the ornately tiled Roman Baths before the usual opening hours. They were going to be allowed behind the scenes where excavations were ongoing. Only one hundred years ago no one knew of the existence of these ancient baths lying under the floors of the city that had flourished since the time the first Romans settled on the site of the hot springs. It seemed unbelievable people living here could have forgotten their existence, but now the site was a continuously unfolding treasure trove as each layer peeled back to disclose new insights into the life and times of those ancient peoples.

  None of their group was willing to miss this unique opportunity given them through Lucy’s connections, although some looked worse for wear from the party the previous night.

  After they finished in the baths the group was on their own to explore the town and pursue their own agenda. They each knew the departure time and the meeting place to get the bus back to Hilliary Hall. Anyone who missed it would have to get back before departure time in the morning or be left behind. It was the spirit of the Untour.

  Claire had started off with some of the others wending their way through the flower-bedecked streets. But somewhere, during the course of the morning she wandered off down an alleyway, finding a group of shops better described as second-hand goods than the antiques they claimed, and ended up in another area of the pedestrian mall. She emerged from a particularly interesting store to find Rosa and Liz angrily squared off on the mall in front of her. At first she was tempted to duck back into the shop and hope they would go away. Rosa’s face was red, contorted with anger. Liz’s face was smug, almost righteous and very stubborn. They were creating quite a disturbance on the tranquil little street.

  She resigned herself to stepping in. “Liz, Rosa, what’s the matter with the two of you? You’re causing a scene.”

  “Get her off my back. I have a job to do and I’m perfectly capable of doing it.” Rosa pushed her furious words through gritted teeth causing Claire to step back from her as if to ward off a pending attack.

  “I don’t want your job. I just want to make sure that you do it.” Liz’s sanctimonious reply didn’t even try to assuage Rosa’s anger. “Lucy needs that information or her book won’t meet the deadline. And frankly, I think you are not taking your job seriously enough. After all, I’ve helped my father through several deadline crises and I know what it’s all about.”

  Claire realized with a sinking feeling the situation had gotten way out of hand. “Look, Liz, I was just going to get a bit of lunch. Come with me and let’s talk about this.” Claire held on to Liz’s arm, restraining her, as Rosa stomped off in the other direction.

  “Claire, really, let go of me!” Liz struggled but was no match for Claire’s determined grip. “Look, I need to follow her. I have to go...” But when Rosa was no longer in view, she gave up, explaining further, “She really is up to something. I think she spends more time making assignments with men than she does gathering data for Lucy. She’s not at all professional. She’s..., well, she’s a trollop!” This last was said with such seriousness that Claire felt her mouth fall open.

  “Rosa? Come on, Liz. Aren’t you exaggerating a little? Rosa certainly doesn’t appear to be a...,” she carefully kept her face straight, “...a loose woman.” They sat down at one of the tables clustered outside a cheerful tearoom.

  Liz didn’t seem to notice the festive red geraniums bunched in window boxes and planters around the umbrella tables, nor did she even glance at the menus handed them. Instead she hunched forward looking straight into Claire’s eyes. “This is no joke, Claire. Rosa isn’t what she seems to be.”

  Claire was dismayed. She had to do something or Liz was going to ruin the whole trip. In spite of Lucy’s assurances that Liz was only going thorough a period of adjustment, Claire thought there was a real possibility Liz had gone off the edge.

  “Liz, Rosa is just what she appears to be. She is humorless, hardworking and very conscientious. Rosa came highly recommended by Lucy’s publisher. He has worked with her several times over the years. And when it became obvious that Katy couldn’t come back in time to meet the book’s deadline he begged Rosa to take this assignment. She has relocated in order to be available to Lucy and she generously agreed to accompany us on this trip after Lucy had her accident. She does not consider this trip to be fun; to her it is her job. She is exactly what she seems to be, Lucy’s assistant with exceptional skills.” Claire spoke firmly and slowly, as if speaking to a child.

  Liz stubbornly shook her head. “But I’ve seen her.” Liz wouldn’t give up. “At Camden Market and today. And I’m not with her all the time.”

  “What exactly did you see, Liz?”

  “Well, she was making some assignment with a man.” Liz sniffed righteously.

  “Did you hear her?”

  “Well, not exactly. But I could tell what she was doing. And then when I approached, he moved off real quick with a strange expression on his face.” She shivered, her imagination now frightening her. “And that guy she was talking to at the market in London, she didn’t want to be seen and she didn’t want his picture taken.”

  “Liz, you’re really stretching it.” Claire was stern now. “Lucy has every confidence in Rosa. She has given her detailed instructions.

  “And, Liz, did you know Rosa calls Lucy every few days to report and get additional information? Lucy has total control of the situation. She is directing Rosa’s actions. You don’t need to monitor Rosa, Liz. Lucy doesn’t need it and Rosa doesn’t like it.

  “Liz, promise me you’ll try to stay out of Rosa’s way?” she coaxed, watching Liz’s eyes, reading her objections. “Liz, you came to see the country. There are twenty other people on this tour and they’re all fun and interesting. Don’t make Rosa your project. You’re keeping her from doing her job.”

  Liz wouldn’t agree so Claire sighed and added, “Liz, if you don’t stop I’m going to have to send you back. I can’t let you continue to disrupt this whole tour. It isn’t fair to the others.

  “Now, I’m serious a
bout this. Are you listening? If I don’t see some immediate improvement you’re going back.”

  And she gave a final caution. “Remember that I mean it!”

  * * *

  The forest now crowded thickly around their path. A breeze rustled the leaves high above them and, always not far away, the sound of the brook they had crossed several times which was keeping up with them. It was like a concert – the rustle of leaves, the gurgle of water, the birds’ songs, the occasional scolding of a squirrel. Claire was glad that Alice seemed as content as she was to just walk, letting nature restore their spirits.

  She and Alice Jones had started out with several others a while ago, but the others were eager for a pint in the pub in Biddlestone where they planned to dine tonight so had taken a fork in the path almost an hour ago. She and Alice weren’t quite ready to end their walk and elected to continue. It was perfectly safe, they assured the others. These were public access paths and clearly marked.

  But they hadn’t seen another person since they separated from the group. That might have been eerie but somehow it just added to the serenity. Now, however, Claire realized she was hungry and glanced at her watch. It was almost seven o’clock so she picked up her pace somewhat.

  “Claire, I think this is our turnoff.”

  She looked at the map Alice was holding out to her and nodded her agreement. “Looks like it. I hate to leave the woods but my stomach has started complaining.”

  Alice laughed. “Well, I have to admit a pint of ale sounds good to me. That is, of course, if the rest have left us anything. They’ve had a good hour head start.”

  Claire felt a kinship with Alice, maybe because of their ages, maybe just because Alice was good company, like today on their walk in the woods. For a minute Claire considered asking Alice about Liz’s behavior. Alice and Liz had elected to share a room to save money after meeting at one of the Untour orientation sessions. Surely Alice would have noticed if Liz was really becoming as erratic as she seemed.

  No, she decided. She didn’t think it fair to bring Alice into the loop of Liz’s distressing behavior. Tomorrow she would talk to Rosa and once more to Liz and, if Liz didn’t leave Rosa alone, she would then make arrangements to send Liz back. It was ridiculous she needed to be concerned about members of the tour causing nasty scenes in such pleasant surroundings as the pedestrian mall in Bath. What example of America was that to set?

  Abruptly the path ended at the edge of a crammed car park. The King George Pub was obviously popular. Claire and Alice squeezed into the main room looking for friends when finally they saw Tom wave, loudly calling to them.

  “We were just talking about sending out the search party but no one could agree on which way to go.”

  “Or even who should go.”

  Everyone laughed, pushing closer to make room for them to sit. Mugs of foaming, tepid ale appeared in front of them.

  “We have our name in for a table. It won’t be long now. The food is supposed to be good and judging by this crowd I would guess it is,” Vern said, eyes on Mike playing darts with Glenda. He chuckled, nodding his head in that direction. “He likes to think he’s tops at everything and Glenda has just whupped his sorry butt. Look, I think some of the locals want her to join their team.”

  His eyes crinkled in merriment at Mike’s face. “Have a drink, lad. You were obviously playing out of your league.”

  “We put up a board in the den when the boys were little. Glenda is just a natural. No one will play her at home,” Alex commented before asking Mike solicitously, “You didn’t let her talk you into playing for money, did you?”

  Mike squirmed at the laughter, not willing to admit how much he lost.

  Alex leaned across the table. “Just a hint, young fellow. Don’t ever play pool with her. Pool is her game.”

  At least half of their group had elected to eat at the Pub and it proved to be a good choice. Dinner was served in a room in the back where the host had shoved enough tables together for them. The floors were uneven from centuries of use. The ceilings were low and smoke darkened. Here, the noise was more subdued, and the smells tantalizing. The menu was eclectic, offering something for everyone. Claire bravely tried the veal chop, mostly because it sounded so English, but also because the menu noted it was raised naturally. Vern chose the duck in brandied cherry sauce, which, he said, was as tasty as it sounded. Several of the group chose the fish and chips and they all tasted the mashed peas, which turned out to be just that. Canned peas overcooked and mashed to a paste. No one would eat them after one taste and everyone was at a loss to understand the popularity of the item. After the “Pud,” which the locals called dessert, Claire was one of the minority ready to head back. Vern and Mike decided to share the car they requested from Hilliary Hall, refusing to be baited by the others, who called them party poopers as yet another round of ale appeared.

  “I had a hard enough time getting up this morning. I’d never make it two days in a row.” Claire grimaced.

  Vern chuckled. “You should have seen the jester here. He would stay to the last.”

  Mike nodded sheepishly. “What I wouldn’t have given for a big Bloody Mary and a couple more hours of sleep this morning. That’s turning out to be the trouble. I want to do everything and I’m finding that I can’t. I hope age isn’t catching up with me.”

  “Not a chance. It was that mead.”

  Vern and Mike were going to stroll around the grounds before having a nightcap, but Claire declined their invitation choosing to use a few quiet hours to finish her book on Stonehenge.

  All thought of quiet hours disappeared when Rosa, her face even paler than usual, cut her off before she reached the lift.

  “Oh Claire, I’m so sorry. It’s terrible and all my fault.”

  Rosa was actually wringing her hands.

  “What are you talking about? What’s happened?”

  “Well, there’s been a bit of an accident.” Jack’s calm voice didn’t keep Claire’s blood pressure from shooting to her brain, causing her head to pound in unison with her heart, almost drowning out his words.

  “What? Who?” She knew it was terrible. Why else would Rosa be wringing her hands? Why else would Jack be so studiously calm?

  Rosa wailed again, “It’s all my fault. I didn’t know she was there.”

  “Calm down, Rosa.” Jack’s voice cut her off. “It’s Liz, Claire. She fell down the front steps as they were all going to catch their ride to the Dodington House this afternoon.”

  “Is she...? I mean...” Claire swayed at the horror of her thoughts but Jack’s fingers gripped her arm steadying her. She pulled herself away sharply. “How serious is it?”

  “Somewhat serious though certainly not life threatening. She’s at the surgery now. She has broken her collarbone so I’m afraid she won’t be able to continue the journey. They’ll keep her here for about four days and then the manager of Hilliary Hall has offered to take her back to Heathrow and get her on a plane for the States.

  “Hilliary Hall is very concerned of course. As they should be as it happened on their property. But it really was an accident. We were all going down the front steps. You know how steep they are. I can’t imagine why they haven’t put a railing up.

  “Anyway, Rosa stopped and turned around to go back for something and didn’t realize that Liz was right behind her. Liz apparently couldn’t stop in time and tripped over Rosa. She fell all the way to the bottom. It happened so suddenly that no one else even saw what happened until she rolled past. Actually, I guess we’re lucky she didn’t knock anyone else down on her way to the bottom.”

  Claire shuddered, picturing half of the group being mowed down like bowling pins.

  Rosa kind of moaned as Jack told the story. “It’s all my fault. What will Lucy say? I tried to grab her, to save her but it happened so fast I couldn’t get a good hold.”

  Claire took Rosa by the arm and shook her a little. “Rosa, stop this. It was an accident, just as Jack said. Now, sto
p blaming yourself and go have a warm drink, something like coffee laced with cream and brandy. Then go to bed and stay warm. I know it wasn’t your fault. I’ll call Lucy in the morning and explain it all. Don’t worry!”

  She saw Rosa attempt to compose herself and said more gently, “Go on now, and get a drink. That’s an order.” She watched Rosa turn towards the bar, calling after her, “Then go to bed.”

  She turned back to Jack. “I’ll have to go see Liz and talk to the doctor. I appreciate all you’ve done but I need to see for myself. I’m sure you understand.”

  And she could see he did. He chose to be gracious, their past problems forgotten for the moment. “Of course.”

  “I just feel kind of funny about just leaving her here while we go on.”

  “Yes, but what else can you do? You can’t cancel all the arrangements and everyone’s plans for one person. That doesn’t make sense. None of us can really do anything for her.”

  Claire nodded, now starting to feel annoyed. “Isn’t that just like Liz? I had a serious talk with her this morning about leaving Rosa alone. She is always following her and now see what happened! And of course, Rosa blames herself but it was Liz’s fault, I’m sure.”

  Jack took one of the hotel’s cars, roaring through the dark lanes as if he could see beyond the glow of the lights, while Claire held on tightly, mentally selecting and discarding options. She arrived at the conclusion that if she survived this drive with Jack, it only made sense for the tour to go on. Just then Jack swerved to the side of the road in front of a cheery looking cottage, marked as the surgery by only a small plaque set on the gate. The room Claire was ushered into was very professional and scrupulously clean. Each of the four beds was set in such a way as to afford their occupants the most privacy. However, only one was occupied with the curtain drawn around it. Claire paused before approaching, looking for permission from Sister Strom.