Discovered in a Game of Round Robin

[byslantedlight.livejournal.com]

It's been a while since I posted a challenge here, mostly because it's been so quiet I wasn't sure that anyone would be interested, but it's spring, and the weekend, and oh well, why not? We've not played Round Robin for aaaages, and I thought it might be a fun game for the weekend - or a week, or as long as it keeps going (do we have a Pros novel in us? *g*).

The rules of the game are simple - add your installment of the story as a new comment to the post (check the comments first, to see where the story is up to!). Give it the subject title "Part Whatever" so that we can see who it's following on from. If you post your comment, and it turns out someone else has just beaten you to it, please be kind and delete your installment (maybe you can work it so that it carries on from theirs?) Try to keep installments of reasonable length and plot - we won't set a maximum length, just ask that everyone's fair to the other people who play, but I shall say that there's no minimum length. If you feel a single word installment will move the story on perfectly, then go for it!

If you'd like to comment to an installment, please comment reply directly to it - that way new comments to the post itself can be reserved for the story!

I'll try and keep up with posting the complete story under a cut at the end of this post - but please do check comments in case I'm behind (I probably will be!)

Aaaand - I think that's all!

Except that we need somewhere to start from, so I've internet-randomed a first line, and adapted it for our lads to create Part One in the comments below. Would someone like to carry on...? *g*

The Story So Far
That night Bodie dreamt he went to Manderley again.He stood by the iron gate leading to the drive, and for a while he could not enter, for the way was barred. There was a padlock and a chain upon the gate, and no matter how he called no lodge keeper came to let him in.

The fence that ran around the property was topped with broken glass and barbed wire, and rusty nails had been driven poked through the hefty wooden planks. It was enough to deter the most resolute of intruders from gaining access, but Bodie was no intruder and he hadn't yet encountered a house he couldn't break into.

He woke from the dream feeling powerless and bereft.

The telephone was ringing. "Sorry, 3.7, all leave has been cancelled," Sally's voice said, cheerfully. "There are four agents off with dysentery and babysitting duties to be fulfilled."

"I'm not here," Bodie said, swinging his legs to the floor. Why was there an empty space in his bed? Hadn't he left the nightclub with whatsername? Wendy?

"No excuses, 3.7. Report to Alpha One at oh nine hundred."

"Yes, mother. Shall I ring Ray and give him the glad tidings?"

"Already done. He'll pick you up on his way. Now get in the shower, Bodie."

"Don't you want to scrub my back?"

He grinned as he heard a click followed by the dial tone. "You're just playing hard to get," he said into the receiver before replacing it.

In the shower he tried to scrub away the feeling of unease he'd woken up with, and had almost managed it when Doyle banged on the front door.

o0o

Doyle glanced at Bodie as they drove south. He hadn't spoken since leaving London, and his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. He'd been the old, annoying Bodie as they waited to see Cowley and while the Old Man briefed them on this latest babysitting job - some well-heeled brat whose parents had thrown a wobbly at a anonymous note threatening to kidnap said brat. It was only when Cowley had pushed a photo of the family's stately home at them that Bodie had gone pale.

"Don't tell me she's one of your old flames."

Bodie glanced away from the road long enough to frown at him. "Who?"

"The grandmother. Lady Muck-what's-her-name... MacCaulay." Lady Virginia MacCaulay, in current charge of the brat whilst her son and daughter-in-law were off gallivanting in the States, was seventy if she was a day, and tended to be pictured in the social columns wearing dresses that were both bright and unflattering.

"You know, sometimes Doyle I worry about you..."

"Well, something's got you worked up - if it's not her, then who is it?"

There was silence, but for the motorway under their tyres, and the steady buzz of other vehicles passing theirs.

"You might want to see if this thing does sixty miles an hour, whilst you're thinking," he added, knowing he was being shut out of something, hating it.

Bodie tried to be rational, tried anything that would instill logic into this most illogical obbo. MacCauley Manor House wasn't Manderly, and there wasn't a Rebecca in the family--that CI5 knew about. What CI5 didn't know wasn't worth mentioning, so why did the sight of that grand estate throw the fear of--if not God, then the bogie man into him? He felt like a fool. Should tell Doyle just so the golly would tease him up good and proper and put him to rights.

Doyle kept throwing Bodie curious looks but when he got nothing in return, he began singing "Across the Universe" by the Beatles under his breath. All in all, Bodie would have preferred something more upbeat like Yellow Submarine.

As he drove toward the ornate iron gate, Bodie could plainly see that there was no iron padlock, no barbed wire and certainly no broken glass. There was, however, a short man with what appeared to be a priestly tonsure wearing a village constable's uniform.

"May I help you?" the man inquired.

"CI5, Doyle." Doyle held up his ID. "This is Bodie. We've come to watch over young Gemma."

"Constable Edwin Blythe, keen to help!" He beamed, two dimples bracketing his mouth. There was a large gap between his front teeth.

"Wonderful," Bodie said under his breath. "If we get two more, we can call ourselves the Famous Five."

Doyle gave his partner a concerned frown. Something was eating at Bodie and if he didn't spit it out soon, Doyle was going to beat it out of him.

"It's only a little girl, I don't think it'll take three of us, but thank you for the offer," he said to the constable.

Constable Blythe didn't look convinced. "You haven't seen her yet."

"I'll keep it in mind," Doyle said, nudging Bodie to get moving again. If he didn't know better, he'd swear Bodie would rather be anywhere but Macauley Manor House, more reluctant than he normally would be for a babysitting job.

No one else would have noticed Bodie's hesitation, but Doyle noticed. He glared unforgivingly at him as they drove slowly through the gates, and what seemed like even more slowly down the grand, chestnut-lined road. He should have been admiring the countryside, he thought, aware that the grass was the lush emerald green of spring, that daffodils and wildflowers were scattered across the fields around them, rabbits were chasing each other, birds singing, and that Bodie's expression seemed to be growing ever darker.

The car ground to a halt, Bodie only just getting the clutch in before it shuddered to a stall, revving to compensate. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel for a moment, then turned his head and met Doyle's gaze.

He looked, Doyle thought, more scared than he'd ever seen him.

"Don't tell me - she's your daughter," he suggested, wanting to lighten the mood. "And Lady MacCaulay is..."

"Niece." Bodie looked away again, through the windscreen, along the dirt road ahead of them and into some past.

Silence thrummed between them.

After a moment Doyle remembered to breathe.

"Who...?" he began cautiously, then stuttered to his own halt. He thought, tried again. "Gemma MacCaulay is..."

"My niece," Bodie said, fingers tightening on the steering wheel again. "You're gonna have to know sooner or later, because..."

"...because?"

"Because as soon as we walk into the drawing room, Ginnie's going to be all over me anyway."

"Ginnie..."

"My grandmother," Bodie confirmed, slanting a sideways look at him that vanished when Doyle opened his mouth again. "Virginia MacCaulay."

"You're having me on." Had to be. Bodie was from up north, from Liverpool, Doyle would have staked his life on it. Had, once or twice.

But Bodie was shaking his head, and he seemed to have gained some courage from Doyle's reaction, because there was a smile starting to form on his lips, and the kind of look in his eyes that Doyle usually only saw before someone opened fire at them.

"Sorry sunshine," he said, "Not this time..."

"You're not aristocracy!" Doyle accused.

"Too right, I'm not," Bodie agreed. "My father was the third son. Used to be, they'd be sent to be a vicar or something of the sort, but Dad would have none of that. He wanted to be a pirate, but had to settle for the merchant marines, and then died. Fell over the side of the ship during a squall."

Doyle hadn't heard this much about Bodie's life - ever. He was fascinated, and quite apprehensive when Bodie climbed resolutely out of the car.

"Spent my summers here. Felt like I'd been shut up in prison most years - so I went over the wall," Bodie said out of the corner of his mouth as a tall woman wearing a red turban and a peacock coloured dress sailed out the front door. "Ginnie!"

"Well, William," Virginia MacCauley said. "I see you're not dead yet."

"I keep trying," Bodie said with a cheerful smile, but Doyle could see the tension in the line of his shoulders and knew he wasn't as relaxed as he was pretending. There was something not right with the whole situation.

"Introduce me to your friend," Virginia commanded. "But I really don't have time to spare for you right now. I'm expecting..."

"That would be us you're expecting," Bodie replied pointing at himself and then Doyle. "My partner, Ray Doyle. CI5. We're here to guard Gemma."

Virginia raised her eyebrows in surprise, but all she said was, "I see." in a frosty tone. "Well then, come inside. I'll not discuss family business out on the front lawn like a commoner."

Doyle exchanged a look with Bodie as they followed Virginia into the house. What the hell were they in for here?

"It has been five years, William. Five years. I assume you were out in a jungle somewhere... or perhaps not?" His grandmother turned around towards him with a natural flourish once they were inside the great front door. "What are you now, some sort of policeman? Well that would be an improvement, I suppose." Receiving no answer, she turned away again and led them through the grand entrance hall with its large disappearing staircase, and beyond into a large room furnished with comfortable chairs and petite tables, and a piano in the corner.

Doyle fell in behind his partner, ignoring their rather magnificent surroundings and concentrating on the scene unfolding before him. Something felt wrong. Something about the way they spoke to each other seemed forced. But now, as she beckoned them to sit down with a wave of her hand, he realised that he was beginning to believe that Bodie could be related to this woman. Virginia MacCaulay raised an inquisitive eyebrow as she looked at her grandson, and for a moment Doyle was struck by the resemblance.

"So you are here to look after Gemma?" she prompted as she sat down opposite them, an oddly cold note of amusement in her voice.

Bodie did not speak for such a long moment that Doyle wondered whether he should say something. But how could he? He could not take over a conversation between Bodie and his own grandmother.

"Grandmamma?" a piping voice called out. "Who came? Who's here?"

A small girl bounced in, bright blue eyes and long dark brown wavy hair. She was, Doyle estimated, possibly six, and the spitting image of Bodie. Not just the suggestion of resemblance as with Bodie and Virginia.

Bodie stood straighter, his eyes slightly wild, but he forced a smile and knelt down, completely ignoring his grandmother's question. "Hello, I'm -"

"You're Uncle Willie," Gemma said astutely, pointing a small finger at his polo shirt. She had pink nail varnish on her tiny fingernails, which matched her pink jumper. "You look just like papa."

"Oh?" Doyle asked with interest. "Uncle Willie's forgotten his manners, Miss Gemma. I'm Ray Doyle. We've come to help protect you and Lady Virginia while your parents are in New York."

"Yes, I expected that after the row we had on the High Street yesterday," Gemma said. "Grandmamma said no more trips to the sweets shop and that just won't do!"

"You don't need wine gums anyway," Virginia said. "I'll ring for Clara to bring some tea and we'll discuss the situation in a civilized manner."

Gemma rolled her eyes, the twinkle in the blue quite merry. Doyle was feeling very confused between the lively child, the icy grandparent and Bodie's uncharacteristic silence.

"How is your father?" Bodie asked finally. "Brother Bob? Is he returning from the States soon?"

"It's like you're him, only funnier." Gemma poked Bodie in the chest and grinned at Doyle. "They're twins, you see."

Doyle felt his mouth drop open. It was too much. First "Uncle Willie" and then twins!

Bodie had turned away from him. Anger built. How could Bodie have kept that from him. A twin!

Movement to his left caught his attention. Lady Virginia was watching him closely. She seemed pleased to see that he'd been knocked for six by Gemma's announcements. There was something not right about her.

Bodie, seemingly recovered, smiled and said, "Close your mouth, Sunshine, you're looking like a real angelfish."

Gemma giggled.

A young woman dressed in a plain white blouse and black skirt, carrying a tray, appeared in the doorway. She hesitated, glancing at Bodie curiously before heading in and laying the tea things down on a side table.

"Leave them, Clara. I'll pour," Lady MacCaulay said. "Would you tell Mrs. Holmes to make up a room on the first floor? The blue room will do nicely."

"Yes, ma'am."

Bodie almost expected the girl to curtsey - his grandmother would have insisted on it in the old days - but she merely turned gracefully and exited the room. "I don't need my old room. Whatever you'd already decided on for CI5 will do me."

"Nonsense. I won't have you sleeping with the servants." Ginnie sat down elegantly, arranging cups and saucers on another table.

Bodie gritted his teeth. "Doyle and I need to have a space where we can discuss tactics and our case. We're fine sharing. In fact, I insist."

"We're a 'case' now, are we, William? How tedious." Ginnie handed him a cup of tea and looked at Doyle. "We have a lot of family business to discuss, Mr. Doyle. I'll ring for Clara again and she can show you your room."

"Think of me as one of the servants, Lady MacCaulay," Doyle said. "I see nothing, I repeat nothing." His eyes flickered to the tea tray. "Milk and two sugars for me please."

Bodie could see the stiff set of Doyle's shoulders that belied his relaxed appearance. "It's not the time to discuss my shortcomings, Ginnie," he said, tearing his eyes away from his partner. "We need details of your plans for the next two weeks, people you intend to visit, places you intend to go. You won't be hosting any parties or gatherings here in this house while this threat is over your heads."

"William," his grandmother warned.

"If it would make it easier, call me Bodie," he said. "That way, you can forget I'm family."

"Such a ridiculous name," she murmured. "Gemma, fetch me my diary, dear."

Doyle struggled to maintain a cool head and a calm exterior as they went through Ginnie's diary together, at first with some help from an enthusiastic Gemma, though eventually she became bored and was sent away with the maid, Clara. Bodie seemed to be gritting his teeth as he asked Ginnie one question after another. Where was the ballet class Gemma was supposed to attend the next day? Who gave her riding lessons? Who was meant to attend the big dinner on Saturday? Did Ginnie arrange the menu herself? Had there been any changes of staff?

It seemed easiest to Doyle to fall into a rather numb policeman mode, jotting down Ginnie's answers, occasionally asking for clarification but mostly leaving it to Bodie. He watched and listened, and tried not to think about the enormity of the revelations his brain was still trying to come to terms with. He could not help wondering how much of it Cowley already knew. And maybe there was no reason why Bodie should tell him everything about his past. But this? For a moment his mind broke away and began to obsess over the possibility that Bodie had directly lied to him. Had he? He couldn't remember whether he had ever asked him about his family...

"Ray?"

Doyle looked round.

"I said, did you get all those names?" Bodie was frowning at him. "The guest list?"

Doyle felt Ginnie's eyes on him and looked towards her. He tried to sound professional and calm. "Sorry, could you do the list again, Lady MacCaulay, to make sure I haven't missed anyone?"

Ginnie sighed and went through them again.

Eventually, mercifully, the interview came to a natural end and Ginnie suggested that they be shown to their rooms now. Room, Bodie corrected, and although Doyle could not see his eyes at that moment, he got the impression that the intensity of his expression gave even Ginnie cause to acquiesce. She called Clara to lead them there.

When they arrived at the room, Doyle ushered Clara away, saying no, more rudely than he meant to, to every offer she made to bring them refreshments, or extra towels, or an extra table to lay out their paperwork on. He thanked her and shut the door, and turned round to his partner.

Bodie was sitting on the end of one of the two single beds, looking wearier than Doyle had ever seen him. As Bodie turned his gaze away from the empty space in the middle of the room and towards him, Doyle suddenly began to lose some of the hot anger that had been building up inside him. He realised he didn't have to ask, because Bodie was about to tell him everything.

"I know how strange this must seem," Bodie said quietly, closing his eyes for a moment. "But Gemma is the most important little girl in the world right now, and we have to do our jobs and protect her."

Doyle took in the defeated slump of Bodie's shoulders. It hurt his heart to see his normally stoic partner looking so lost. Setting aside his own unease, he took a deep breath and nodded at Bodie.

"You're right, mate. We have a job to do and a little girl to protect. The rest can wait." Doyle reached over and squeezed a tense shoulder.

Bodie looked up at him and Doyle saw the relief and gratitude for the reprieve in his eyes.

"Right," Bodie said, all business now. "Let's take a look - "

A child's scream had them both running out of the room.

"I don't want to watch television, I want to go riding!"

Doyle slowed as words resolved themselves from high pitched shrieks, and by the time they could see Gemma, a small pink figure against the dark mahogany hallway at the bottom of the stairs, it was clear that the only real danger was to their eardrums.

"Papa said I had to exercise Bodkin every day, and so you have to let me-e-e-e-e-e!"

Peering further over the bannister, Doyle made out Clara crouched down in the shadows, arms held out in entreaty.

"No I don't want to! I don't want to I don't want to I don't want to-o-o-o-o!"

He caught Bodie's eye, about to gesture him back to their room - as long as the girl was safe, they weren't needed, and they still had to check the building the grounds, and the perimeter - but Bodie just brushed past him, trotting down the shallow stairs as if he'd...

Well, he had been born to it, hadn't he?

Doyle followed reluctantly, wondering whether Bodie would settle for grabbing the brat by the scruff of the neck, or whether he'd go the whole hog and give her a good shake to snap her out of it. If there was one thing Bodie had no patience for, it was hysterical females.

Except, apparently, this one.

Gemma bore very little resemblance to the lively tot they'd met less than an hour ago, standing with her hands on hips, red faced, and with a scowl and a steely glint in her eyes that made her the spitting image, instead, of Bodie when faced by the stubbornest of grasses. Blythe, it turned out, had been right - maybe it would take three of them. At least.

Bodie stepped smoothly between the girl and Clara, and simply stared back at her, arms folded, one eyebrow raised.

Gemma froze mid-wail.

"Screaming won't get you much in life, my girl," Bodie said quietly so that she had to stay silent to hear him. "Believe me, I had to learn that the hard way. Now, who is Bodkin?"

Gemma regarded him with narrowed eyes, toe to toe with her much taller uncle. "My pony. I'm going to be a jockey when I'm old enough. I ride in the gymkhama all the time and I've got masses of ribbons."

"Why don't you show us, and give us a tour of the estate while you're at it?" Bodie asked. "Thank you so much, Clara. We'll take tea with chicken sandwiches at four, please." He smiled, dazzlingly, melting Clara into a puddle in on the carpet. Even Gemma looked a bit dazed.

Doyle certainly was and he had felt the full weight of that amazing smile more times that he could count. A lethal weapon, that. He'd also begun to notice a few other things. The house was old, but well maintained with all the latest cons. Central heating, which must have cost a packet. Several telephones, again expensive this far out in the country, and a security alarm system wired into the front windows and doors. What exactly did Brother Bob - would that be Robert Bodie - do, and how had he amassed so much money?

"Lead the way, Gemma!" Bodie called out as the child, once more transformed into a wide eyed charmer, trotted out to a block of stables behind the manor house. "Ray, my brother's got to be into something shady, and I want to know what," he said solemnly.

Both agents were surprised when Lady MacCaulay informed them that she would accompany them on their tour. Knowing better than to protest, Bodie shrugged his shoulders and led them out of the house. Ray hurried after the pink clad whirlwind and Gemma grabbed Ray's hand and pulled him towards the stables. Smiling, Ray let her lead him on. Bodie watched with warm amusement as his niece and his partner chased each other across the grounds.

"Slumming again, William?"

The cold voice quickly dampened his mood.

"I mean really. Look at him. Those clothes, and that hair. He's hardly our kind of people." She sighed deeply. "I would have thought you would have grown up by now. That the whole incident with - what was his name again - Alan, wasn't it? I thought you would have learned something from that."

"Ray is a good man, Ginnie. He's a good friend."

"Hmm, yes, I'm sure he is. Is that why you insisted on one room?"

"That is none of your concern."

"That's where you're wrong, William."

Gemma's squeal had them both looking towards the stable. She sat perched upon Ray's shoulders as he galloped into the barn, his laughter echoing hers.

"A good man. Yes, I can see that, William." Lady MacCaulay stopped in front of him. The threat in those blue eyes perfectly clear. "I wonder how that good man would feel if he knew why you had to leave here."

Bodie raised an eyebrow, and looked at his grandmother coldly. "Well now, that wouldn't reflect very well on you either, would it?"

Before Ginnie could give a retort, there was another squeal from the stable, followed by some yells: Gemma clearly felt that her pony did not have enough of an audience. Bodie walked over, leaving Ginnie standing with her arms folded and apparently refusing to follow.

Once inside the stables, just for a moment Bodie felt a weight lift from his mind. Doyle was jiggling Gemma about on his shoulders, and she was laughing uncontrollably and occasionally shouting "Eeee! Stop!". Eventually she realised her uncle had walked in, and she pointed. "Look! There's Bodkin! Isn't he lovely? He's all mine, I ride him every day."

Bodie smiled and joined in the happy scene, and let his mind wander away from his worries. There was something about spending time with Doyle like this, playing with a child and laughing freely, that made him feel peaceful and content.

Once Gemma had been put back down on the ground, and once she was satisfied that her uncle and her new friend were suitably impressed with her pony, and once she had shown them a couple of the other horses, she declared that it was time to see the very large paddock where she usually exercised Bodkin. "Hello!" she said merrily to the two stable hands who were mucking out one of the stalls as they walked past, though they just grunted in return. They must be all too used to her over-enthusiasm, Bodie thought.

When they left the stable, Ginnie joined them again, but she said nothing and allowed Gemma to chatter on about Bodkin and the paddock, and how she was sometimes allowed to ride out in the lane but only if she was with Old Bert who looked after the stables.

"Anyway," Gemma went on, "where is Old Bert? And I don't like the look of the new stable hands. They're frowny."

"What are you talking about child?" Ginnie said dismissively. "There are no new stable hands..."

Bodie and Doyle exchanged a look, and then, in perfect unison, they turned and ran as fast as they could back towards the stable.

"No one about!" Doyle called out, searching the stables fast. "P'haps they went up to the house?"

"We can't leave Ginnie and Gemma unprotected," Bodie yelled, dashing toward the kitchen garden of the manor house.

Doyle grabbed a small telephone in the barn office. Luckily, there was a small list of numbers for inside the estate. Number one was the gate house. Edwin Blythe answered on the first ring. "Get down to the stables immediately and stay with her ladyship and the little girl!" Doyle cried. "The new stable lads are intruders and Old Bert has gone missing!"

He ran out of the yard and past the gazebo into the conservatory. The house felt silent and just very slightly creepy. Where was Bodie? Where was Clara and any other servant there might be? Where were the stable hands?

He drew his gun with his left hand and quickly made his way through to the sitting room. Nothing seemed out of place - comfortable sofas and armchairs arranged around a low coffee table, framed photographs in groups on the sideboard, trophies and rosettes behind glass in the dresser.

A noise behind him had him whirling round and dropping to one knee, gun aimed and ready to fire. It was Edwin Blythe, red-faced and breathing hard.

"Where's her ladyship?" Doyle demanded, standing up. "And the girl? I told you to get to the stables."

"Haven't… been there yet," the police constable wheezed. He sat down in an armchair with no consideration of their charges, and dabbed at his forehead. "Thought you should know… those two stable lads have left in their car. Took off like the hounds of hell were after them. Your mate was with them too."

"With them? You mean, following them?"

"No. He was in the front seat. Looked like he was giving out instructions."

"But that's not -" Doyle slid his gun back into its holster and ran a hand through his dishevelled hair. "What the bloody hell is goin' on round here?" He blew out a breath in exasperation. Turning back to Blythe, he motioned for the man to get up. "C'mon. We've got to collect the ladies."

They left the house and ran to the stables. Doyle was relieved to see both Gemma and Ginnie were safe.

"Take them up to the house," he instructed Blythe, "I'm going to take a look around."

"Mr Ray?" Gemma pulled on Doyle's sleeve.

"Not now, luv." He shook her hand off. "You go on back to the house. I'll be there soon."

"But Mr Ray-"

"Gemma!" Lady Victoria's voice left no doubt about her seriousness. "Leave the man alone."

"But why is Uncle Bodie sleeping in Bodkin's stall?" It was nearly a whine.

"Uncle? What?" Doyle took off for the stall. Bodie lay in a unconscious sprawl; someone had tried to hide him under some straw. Doyle knelt down beside him and felt his neck for a pulse. Relieved to find a steady beat, he sat back on his heels.

Blythe came to stand over them. "But I saw him in the car. Not twenty minutes ago. How'd he get back here?"

"How indeed." Doyle's hands slid over Bodie trying to determine the extent of his partner's injuries. "Looks like a blow to the head." He gently tapped Bodie's cheek with his hand. "Wakey, wakey, sunshine."

Gemma giggled. Doyle turned to smile at her and caught a look he couldn't fathom in Lady Victoria's eyes.

Comments

[byslantedlight.livejournal.com]

Part One

That night Bodie dreamt he went to Manderley again.He stood by the iron gate leading to the drive, and for a while he could not enter, for the way was barred. There was a padlock and a chain upon the gate, and no matter how he called no lodge keeper came to let him in.

[hambelandjemima.livejournal.com]

Part Two.

The fence that ran around the property was topped with broken glass and barbed wire, and rusty nails had been driven poked through the hefty wooden planks. It was enough to deter the most resolute of intruders from gaining access, but Bodie was no intruder and he hadn't yet encountered a house he couldn't break into.

He woke from the dream feeling powerless and bereft.

The telephone was ringing. "Sorry, 3.7, all leave has been cancelled," Sally's voice said, cheerfully. "There are four agents off with dysentery and babysitting duties to be fulfilled."

"I'm not here," Bodie said, swinging his legs to the floor. Why was there an empty space in his bed? Hadn't he left the nightclub with whatsername? Wendy?

"No excuses, 3.7. Report to Alpha One at oh nine hundred."

"Yes, mother. Shall I ring Ray and give him the glad tidings?"

"Already done. He'll pick you up on his way. Now get in the shower, Bodie."

"Don't you want to scrub my back?"

He grinned as he heard a click followed by the dial tone. "You're just playing hard to get," he said into the receiver before replacing it.

In the shower he tried to scrub away the feeling of unease he'd woken up with, and had almost managed it when Doyle banged on the front door.

[lukadreaming.livejournal.com]

Part three

Doyle glanced at Bodie as they drove south. He hadn't spoken since leaving London, and his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. He'd been the old, annoying Bodie as they waited to see Cowley and while the Old Man briefed them on this latest babysitting job - some well-heeled brat whose parents had thrown a wobbly at a anonymous note threatening to kidnap said brat. It was only when Cowley had pushed a photo of the family's stately home at them that Bodie had gone pale.

[byslantedlight.livejournal.com]

Part Four

"Don't tell me she's one of your old flames."

Bodie glanced away from the road long enough to frown at him. "Who?"

"The grandmother. Lady Muck-what's-her-name... MacCaulay." Lady Virginia MacCaulay, in current charge of the brat whilst her son and daughter-in-law were off gallivanting in the States, was seventy if she was a day, and tended to be pictured in the social columns wearing dresses that were both bright and unflattering.

"You know, sometimes Doyle I worry about you..."

"Well, something's got you worked up - if it's not her, then who is it?"

There was silence, but for the motorway under their tyres, and the steady buzz of other vehicles passing theirs.

"You might want to see if this thing does sixty miles an hour, whilst you're thinking," he added, knowing he was being shut out of something, hating it.

[dawnebeth.livejournal.com]

Part Five

Bodie tried to be rational, tried anything that would instill logic into this most illogical obbo. MacCauley Manor House wasn't Manderly, and there wasn't a Rebecca in the family--that CI5 knew about. What CI5 didn't know wasn't worth mentioning, so why did the sight of that grand estate throw the fear of--if not God, then the bogie man into him? He felt like a fool. Should tell Doyle just so the golly would tease him up good and proper and put him to rights.

Doyle kept throwing Bodie curious looks but when he got nothing in return, he began singing "Across the Universe" by the Beatles under his breath. All in all, Bodie would have preferred something more upbeat like Yellow Submarine.

As he drove toward the ornate iron gate, Bodie could plainly see that there was no iron padlock, no barbed wire and certainly no broken glass. There was, however, a short man with what appeared to be a priestly tonsure wearing a village constable's uniform.

"May I help you?" the man inquired.

"CI5, Doyle." Doyle held up his ID. "This is Bodie. We've come to watch over young Gemma."

"Constable Edwin Blythe, keen to help!" He beamed, two dimples bracketing his mouth. There was a large gap between his front teeth.

"Wonderful," Bodie said under his breath. "If we get two more, we can call ourselves the Famous Five."

[liriel1810.livejournal.com]

Part 6

Doyle gave his partner a concerned frown. Something was eating at Bodie and if he didn't spit it out soon, Doyle was going to beat it out of him.

"It's only a little girl, I don't think it'll take three of us, but thank you for the offer," he said to the constable.

Constable Blythe didn't look convinced. "You haven't seen her yet."

"I'll keep it in mind," Doyle said, nudging Bodie to get moving again. If he didn't know better, he'd swear Bodie would rather be anywhere but Macauley Manor House, more reluctant than he normally would be for a babysitting job.

[byslantedlight.livejournal.com]

Part Seven
No one else would have noticed Bodie's hesitation, but Doyle noticed. He glared unforgivingly at him as they drove slowly through the gates, and what seemed like even more slowly down the grand, chestnut-lined road. He should have been admiring the countryside, he thought, aware that the grass was the lush emerald green of spring, that daffodils and wildflowers were scattered across the fields around them, rabbits were chasing each other, birds singing, and that Bodie's expression seemed to be growing ever darker.

The car ground to a halt, Bodie only just getting the clutch in before it shuddered to a stall, revving to compensate. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel for a moment, then turned his head and met Doyle's gaze.

He looked, Doyle thought, more scared than he'd ever seen him.

"Don't tell me - she's your daughter," he suggested, wanting to lighten the mood. "And Lady MacCaulay is..."

"Niece." Bodie looked away again, through the windscreen, along the dirt road ahead of them and into some past.

Silence thrummed between them.

After a moment Doyle remembered to breathe.

"Who...?" he began cautiously, then stuttered to his own halt. He thought, tried again. "Gemma MacCaulay is..."

"My niece," Bodie said, fingers tightening on the steering wheel again. "You're gonna have to know sooner or later, because..."

"...because?"

"Because as soon as we walk into the drawing room, Ginnie's going to be all over me anyway."

"Ginnie..."

"My grandmother," Bodie confirmed, slanting a sideways look at him that vanished when Doyle opened his mouth again. "Virginia MacCaulay."

"You're having me on." Had to be. Bodie was from up north, from Liverpool, Doyle would have staked his life on it. Had, once or twice.

But Bodie was shaking his head, and he seemed to have gained some courage from Doyle's reaction, because there was a smile starting to form on his lips, and the kind of look in his eyes that Doyle usually only saw before someone opened fire at them.

"Sorry sunshine," he said, "Not this time..."

[dawnebeth.livejournal.com]

Part eight

"You're not aristocracy!" Doyle accused.

"Too right, I'm not," Bodie agreed. "My father was the third son. Used to be, they'd be sent to be a vicar or something of the sort, but Dad would have none of that. He wanted to be a pirate, but had to settle for the merchant marines, and then died. Fell over the side of the ship during a squall."

Doyle hadn't heard this much about Bodie's life--ever. He was fascinated, and quite apprehensive when Bodie climbed resolutely out of the car.

"Spent my summers here. Felt like I'd been shut up in prison most years--so I went over the wall," Bodie said out of the corner of his mouth as a tall woman wearing a red turban and a peacock coloured dress sailed out the front door. "Ginnie!"

[liriel1810.livejournal.com]

Part 9

"Well, William," Virginia MacCauley said. "I see you're not dead yet."

"I keep trying," Bodie said with a cheerful smile, but Doyle could see the tension in the line of his shoulders and knew he wasn't as relaxed as he was pretending. There was something not right with the whole situation.

"Introduce me to your friend," Virginia commanded. "But I really don't have time to spare for you right now. I'm expecting..."

"That would be us you're expecting," Bodie replied pointing at himself and then Doyle. "My partner, Ray Doyle. CI-5. We're here to guard Gemma."

Virginia raised her eyebrows in surprise, but all she said was, "I see." in a frosty tone. "Well then, come inside. I'll not discuss family business out on the front lawn like a commoner."

Doyle exchanged a look with Bodie as they followed Virginia into the house. What the hell were they in for here?

[rochvelleth.livejournal.com]

Part 10

"It has been five years, William. Five years. I assume you were out in a jungle somewhere... or perhaps not?" His grandmother turned around towards him with a natural flourish once they were inside the great front door. "What are you now, some sort of policeman? Well that would be an improvement, I suppose." Receiving no answer, she turned away again and led them through the grand entrance hall with its large disappearing staircase, and beyond into a large room furnished with comfortable chairs and petite tables, and a piano in the corner.

Doyle fell in behind his partner, ignoring their rather magnificent surroundings and concentrating on the scene unfolding before him. Something felt wrong. Something about the way they spoke to each other seemed forced. But now, as she beckoned them to sit down with a wave of her hand, he realised that he was beginning to believe that Bodie could be related to this woman. Virginia MacCaulay raised an inquisitive eyebrow as she looked at her grandson, and for a moment Doyle was struck by the resemblance.

"So you are here to look after Gemma?" she prompted as she sat down opposite them, an oddly cold note of amusement in her voice.

Bodie did not speak for such a long moment that Doyle wondered whether he should say something. But how could he? He could not take over a conversation between Bodie and his own grandmother.

[dawnebeth.livejournal.com]

Part eleven

"Grandmamma?" a piping voice called out. "Who came? Who's here?"

A small girl bounced in, bright blue eyes and long dark brown wavy hair. She was, Doyle estimated, possibly six, and the spitting image of Bodie. Not just the suggestion of resemblance as with Bodie and Virginia.

Bodie stood straighter, his eyes slightly wild, but he forced a smile and knelt down, completely ignoring his grandmother's question. "Hello, I'm--"

"You're Uncle Willie," Gemma said astutely, pointing a small finger at his polo shirt. She had pink nail varnish on her tiny fingernails, which matched her pink jumper. "You look just like papa."

"Oh?" Doyle asked with interest. "Uncle Willie's forgotten his manners, Miss Gemma. I'm Ray Doyle. We've come to help protect you and Lady Virginia while your parents are in New York."

"Yes, I expected that after the row we had on the High Street yesterday," Gemma said. "Grandmamma said no more trips to the sweets shop and that just won't do!"

"You don't need wine gums anyway," Virginia said. "I'll ring for Clara to bring some tea and we'll discuss the situation in a civilized manner."

Gemma rolled her eyes, the twinkle in the blue quite merry. Doyle was feeling very confused between the lively child, the icy grandparent and Bodie's uncharacteristic silence.

"How is your father?" Bodie asked finally. "Brother Bob? Is he returning from the States soon?"

"It's like you're him, only funnier." Gemma poked Bodie in the chest and grinned at Doyle. "They're twins, you see."

[merentha13.livejournal.com]

Part 12
Doyle felt his mouth drop open. It was too much. First "Uncle Willie" and then twins!

Bodie had turned away from him. Anger built. How could Bodie have kept that from him. A twin!

Movement to his left caught his attention. Lady Virginia was watching him closely. She seemed pleased to see that he'd been knocked for six by Gemma's announcements. There was something not right about her.

Bodie, seemingly recovered, smiled and said, "Close your mouth, Sunshine, you're looking like a real angelfish."

Gemma giggled.

[hambelandjemima.livejournal.com]

Part Thirteen

A young woman dressed in a plain white blouse and black skirt, carrying a tray, appeared in the doorway. She hesitated, glancing at Bodie curiously before heading in and laying the tea things down on a side table.

"Leave them, Clara. I'll pour," Lady MacCaulay said. "Would you tell Mrs. Holmes to make up a room on the first floor? The blue room will do nicely."

"Yes, ma'am."

Bodie almost expected the girl to curtsey - his grandmother would have insisted on it in the old days - but she merely turned gracefully and exited the room. "I don't need my old room. Whatever you'd already decided on for CI5 will do me."

"Nonsense. I won't have you sleeping with the servants." Ginnie sat down elegantly, arranging cups and saucers on another table.

Bodie gritted his teeth. "Doyle and I need to have a space where we can discuss tactics and our case. We're fine sharing. In fact, I insist."

"We're a 'case' now, are we, William? How tedious." Ginnie handed him a cup of tea and looked at Doyle. "We have a lot of family business to discuss, Mr. Doyle. I'll ring for Clara again and she can show you your room."

"Think of me as one of the servants, Lady MacCaulay," Doyle said. "I see nothing, I repeat nothing." His eyes flickered to the tea tray. "Milk and two sugars for me please."

Bodie could see the stiff set of Doyle's shoulders that belied his relaxed appearance. "It's not the time to discuss my shortcomings, Ginnie," he said, tearing his eyes away from his partner. "We need details of your plans for the next two weeks, people you intend to visit, places you intend to go. You won't be hosting any parties or gatherings here in this house while this threat is over your heads."

"William," his grandmother warned.

"If it would make it easier, call me Bodie," he said. "That way, you can forget I'm family."

"Such a ridiculous name," she murmured. "Gemma, fetch me my diary, dear."

[rochvelleth.livejournal.com]

Part 14

Doyle struggled to maintain a cool head and a calm exterior as they went through Ginnie's diary together, at first with some help from an enthusiastic Gemma, though eventually she became bored and was sent away with the maid, Clara. Bodie seemed to be gritting his teeth as he asked Ginnie one question after another. Where was the ballet class Gemma was supposed to attend the next day? Who gave her riding lessons? Who was meant to attend the big dinner on Saturday? Did Ginnie arrange the menu herself? Had there been any changes of staff?

It seemed easiest to Doyle to fall into a rather numb policeman mode, jotting down Ginnie's answers, occasionally asking for clarification but mostly leaving it to Bodie. He watched and listened, and tried not to think about the enormity of the revelations his brain was still trying to come to terms with. He could not help wondering how much of it Cowley already knew. And maybe there was no reason why Bodie should tell him everything about his past. But this? For a moment his mind broke away and began to obsess over the possibility that Bodie had directly lied to him. Had he? He couldn't remember whether he had ever asked him about his family...

"Ray?"

Doyle looked round.

"I said, did you get all those names?" Bodie was frowning at him. "The guest list?"

Doyle felt Ginnie's eyes on him and looked towards her. He tried to sound professional and calm. "Sorry, could you do the list again, Lady MacCaulay, to make sure I haven't missed anyone?"

Ginnie sighed and went through them again.

Eventually, mercifully, the interview came to a natural end and Ginnie suggested that they be shown to their rooms now. Room, Bodie corrected, and although Doyle could not see his eyes at that moment, he got the impression that the intensity of his expression gave even Ginnie cause to acquiesce. She called Clara to lead them there.

When they arrived at the room, Doyle ushered Clara away, saying no, more rudely than he meant to, to every offer she made to bring them refreshments, or extra towels, or an extra table to lay out their paperwork on. He thanked her and shut the door, and turned round to his partner.

Bodie was sitting on the end of one of the two single beds, looking wearier than Doyle had ever seen him. As Bodie turned his gaze away from the empty space in the middle of the room and towards him, Doyle suddenly began to lose some of the hot anger that had been building up inside him. He realised he didn't have to ask, because Bodie was about to tell him everything.

"I know how strange this must seem," Bodie said quietly, closing his eyes for a moment. "But Gemma is the most important little girl in the world right now, and we have to do our jobs and protect her."

[merentha13.livejournal.com]

Part 15

Doyle took in the defeated slump of Bodie's shoulders. It hurt his heart to see his normally stoic partner looking so lost. Setting aside his own unease, he took a deep breath and nodded at Bodie.

"You're right, mate. We have a job to do and a little girl to protect. The rest can wait." Doyle reached over and squeezed a tense shoulder.

Bodie looked up at him and Doyle saw the relief and gratitude for the reprieve in his eyes.

"Right," Bodie said, all business now. "Let's take a look - "

A child's scream had them both running out of the room.

[byslantedlight.livejournal.com]

Part Sixteen

"I don't want to watch television, I want to go riding!"

Doyle slowed as words resolved themselves from high pitched shrieks, and by the time they could see Gemma, a small pink figure against the dark mahogany hallway at the bottom of the stairs, it was clear that the only real danger was to their eardrums.

"Papa said I had to exercise Bodkin every day, and so you have to let me-e-e-e-e-e!"

Peering further over the bannister, Doyle made out Clara crouched down in the shadows, arms held out in entreaty.

"No I don't want to! I don't want to I don't want to I don't want to-o-o-o-o!"

He caught Bodie's eye, about to gesture him back to their room - as long as the girl was safe, they weren't needed, and they still had to check the building the grounds, and the perimeter - but Bodie just brushed past him, trotting down the shallow stairs as if he'd...

Well, he had been born to it, hadn't he?

Doyle followed reluctantly, wondering whether Bodie would settle for grabbing the brat by the scruff of the neck, or whether he'd go the whole hog and give her a good shake to snap her out of it. If there was one thing Bodie had no patience for, it was hysterical females.

Except, apparently, this one.

Gemma bore very little resemblance to the lively tot they'd met less than an hour ago, standing with her hands on hips, red faced, and with a scowl and a steely glint in her eyes that made her the spitting image, instead, of Bodie when faced by the stubbornest of grasses. Blythe, it turned out, had been right - maybe it would take three of them. At least.

Bodie stepped smoothly between the girl and Clara, and simply stared back at her, arms folded, one eyebrow raised.

Gemma froze mid-wail.

[dawnebeth.livejournal.com]

Part seventeen

"Screaming won't get you much in life, my girl," Bodie said quietly so that she had to stay silent to hear him. "Believe me, I had to learn that the hard way. Now, who is Bodkin?"

Gemma regarded him with narrowed eyes, toe to toe with her much taller uncle. "My pony. I'm going to be a jockey when I'm old enough. I ride in the gymkhama all the time and I've got masses of ribbons."

"Why don't you show us, and give us a tour of the estate while you're at it?" Bodie asked. "Thank you so much, Clara. We'll take tea with chicken sandwiches at four, please." He smiled, dazzlingly, melting Clara into a puddle in on the carpet. Even Gemma looked a bit dazed.

Doyle certainly was and he had felt the fully weight of that amazing smile more times that he could count. A lethal weapon, that. He'd also begun to notice a few other things. The house was old, but well maintained with all the latest cons. Central heating, which must have cost a packet. Several telephones, again expensive this far out in the country, and a security alarm system wired into the front windows and doors. What exactly did Brother Bob--would that be Robert Bodie--do, and how had he amassed so much money?

"Lead the way, Gemma!" Bodie called out as the child, once more transformed into a wide eyed charmer, trotted out to a block of stables behind the manor house. "Ray, my brother's got to be into something shady, and I want to know what," he said solemnly.

[merentha13.livejournal.com]

Part 18

Both agents were surprised when Lady MacCaulay informed them that she would accompany them on their tour. Knowing better than to protest, Bodie shrugged his shoulders and led them out of the house. Ray hurried after the pink clad whirlwind and Gemma grabbed Ray's hand and pulled him towards the stables. Smiling, Ray let her lead him on. Bodie watched with warm amusement as his niece and his partner chased each other across the grounds.

"Slumming again, William?"

The cold voice quickly dampened his mood.

"I mean really. Look at him. Those clothes, and that hair. He's hardly our kind of people." She sighed deeply. "I would have thought you would have grown up by now. That the whole incident with - what was his name again - Alan, wasn't it? I thought you would have learned something from that."

"Ray is a good man, Ginnie. He's a good friend."

"Hmm, yes, I'm sure he is. Is that why you insisted on one room?"

"That is none of your concern."

"That's where your wrong, William."

Gemma's squeal had them both looking towards the stable. She sat perched upon Ray's shoulders as he galloped into the barn, his laughter echoing hers.

"A good man. Yes, I can see that, William." Lady MacCaulay stopped in front of him. The threat in those blue eyes perfectly clear. "I wonder how that good man would feel if he knew why you had to leave here."

[rochvelleth.livejournal.com]

Part 19

Bodie raised an eyebrow, and looked at his grandmother coldly. "Well now, that wouldn't reflect very well on you either, would it?"

Before Ginnie could give a retort, there was another squeal from the stable, followed by some yells: Gemma clearly felt that her pony did not have enough of an audience. Bodie walked over, leaving Ginnie standing with her arms folded and apparently refusing to follow.

Once inside the stables, just for a moment Bodie felt a weight lift from his mind. Doyle was jiggling Gemma about on his shoulders, and she was laughing uncontrollably and occasionally shouting "Eeee! Stop!". Eventually she realised her uncle had walked in, and she pointed. "Look! There's Bodkin! Isn't he lovely? He's all mine, I ride him every day."

Bodie smiled and joined in the happy scene, and let his mind wander away from his worries. There was something about spending time with Doyle like this, playing with a child and laughing freely, that made him feel peaceful and content.

Once Gemma had been put back down on the ground, and once she was satisfied that her uncle and her new friend were suitably impressed with her pony, and once she had shown them a couple of the other horses, she declared that it was time to see the very large paddock where she usually exercised Bodkin. "Hello!" she said merrily to the two stable hands who were mucking out one of the stalls as they walked past, though they just grunted in return. They must be all too used to her over-enthusiasm, Bodie thought.

When they left the stable, Ginnie joined them again, but she said nothing and allowed Gemma to chatter on about Bodkin and the paddock, and how she was sometimes allowed to ride out in the lane but only if she was with Old Bert who looked after the stables.

"Anyway," Gemma went on, "where is Old Bert? And I don't like the look of the new stable hands. They're frowny."

"What are you talking about child?" Ginnie said dismissively. "There are no new stable hands..."

Bodie and Doyle exchanged a look, and then, in perfect unison, they turned and ran as fast as they could back towards the stable.

[dawnebeth.livejournal.com]

Part twenty

"No one about!" Doyle called out, searching the stables fast. "P'haps they went up to the house?"

"We can't leave Ginnie and Gemma unprotected," Bodie yelled, dashing toward the kitchen garden of the manor house.

Doyle grabbed a small telephone in the barn office. Luckily, there was a small list of numbers for inside the estate. Number one was the gate house. Edwin Blythe answered on the first ring. "Get down to the stables immediately and stay with her ladyship and the little girl!" Doyle cried. "The new stable lads are intruders and Old Bert has gone missing!"

He ran out of the yard and past the gazebo into the conservatory. The house felt silent and just very slightly creepy. Where was Bodie? Where was Clara and any other servant there might be? Where were the stable hands?

[hambelandjemima.livejournal.com]

Part Twenty One

He drew his gun with his left hand and quickly made his way through to the sitting room. Nothing seemed out of place - comfortable sofas and armchairs arranged around a low coffee table, framed photographs in groups on the sideboard, trophies and rosettes behind glass in the dresser.

A noise behind him had him whirling round and dropping to one knee, gun aimed and ready to fire. It was Edwin Blythe, red-faced and breathing hard.

"Where's her ladyship?" Doyle demanded, standing up. "And the girl? I told you to get to the stables."

"Haven't… been there yet," the police constable wheezed. He sat down in an armchair with no consideration of their charges, and dabbed at his forehead. "Thought you should know… those two stable lads have left in their car. Took off like the hounds of hell were after them. Your mate was with them too."

"With them? You mean, following them?"

"No. He was in the front seat. Looked like he was giving out instructions."

[merentha13.livejournal.com]

Part 22

"But that's not -" Doyle slid his gun back into its holster and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "What the bloody hell is goin' on round here?" He blew out a breath in exasperation. Turning back to Blythe, he motioned for the man to get up. "C'mon. We've got to collect the ladies."

They left the house and ran to the stables. Doyle was relieved to see both Gemma and Ginnie were safe.

"Take them up to the house," he instructed Blythe, "I'm going to take a look around."

"Mr Ray?" Gemma pulled on Doyle's sleeve.

"Not now, luv." He shook her hand off. "You go on back to the house. I'll be there soon."

"But Mr Ray-"

"Gemma!" Lady Virginia's voice left no doubt about her seriousness. "Leave the man alone."

"But why is Uncle Bodie sleeping in Bodkin's stall?" It was nearly a whine.

"Uncle? What?" Doyle took off for the stall. Bodie lay in a unconscious sprawl; someone had tried to hide him under some straw. Doyle knelt down beside him and felt his neck for a pulse. Relieved to find a steady beat, he sat back on his heels.

Blythe came to stand over them. "But I saw him in the car. Not twenty minutes ago. How'd he get back here?"

"How indeed." Doyle's hands slid over Bodie trying to determine the extent of his partner's injuries. "Looks like a blow to the head." He gently tapped Bodie's cheek with his hand. "Wakey, wakey, sunshine."

Gemma giggled. Doyle turned to smile at her and caught a look he couldn't fathom in Lady Vrginia's eyes.

[dawnebeth.livejournal.com]

Part Twenty-three

"T'was Bob," Bodie muttered, licking his lips.

"Bob?" Doyle repeated.

"Come along, Gemma, it's time for your French recitation," Lady Victoria said briskly, taking the girl by the hand and practically dragging her out of the stable.

"Je ne veu pas Francais!" Gemma protested, stomping one pink shod foot but her Grandmother just picked her up bodily and walked away.

"Your ladyship, I am here to aid in any way." Blythe trotted beside her like a faithful pup.

"Did you say Bob, as in your brother?" Doyle asked.

"Help me up." Bodie held out a hand and Doyle tugged him to a standing. "And Ginnie used to say I was the black sheep of the family," Bodie said darkly. He brushed hay off his trousers. "There's something rotten but it's not in Denmark, it's right here in Shropshire. We're getting to the bottom of this directly, if I had to tie Ginnie to a chair and interrogate her Cowley style."

"I'll be right behind you, mate." Doyle patted him on the back with a grin. Bodie still had hay in his hair.

[rochvelleth.livejournal.com]

Part 24

Bodie rubbed his head and followed Doyle outside into the subshine. "How long was I out?"

Doyle pursed his lips. "Not long."

"He can't have got far then."

"Blythe saw him driving off with those stable hands. Twenty minutes ago, he reckons."

"But he must be coming back here."

Doyle frowned. He was missing too much of the story here, and that wasn't going to help him protect Gemma, or Lady Virginia. Or Bodie for that matter. "What's he coming back for then? Come on Bodie, tell me. Gemma's really in danger, isn't she?"

[merentha13.livejournal.com]

Part 25

They all settled around the table to enjoy the chicken sandwiches Clara provided for tea. Bodie rubbed his hands together in anticipation, causing Gemma to giggle and Lady Virginia to roll her eyes.

"Don't laugh," Ray told Gemma. "It just encourages him."

Bodie crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue at Doyle. Gemma laughed.

"So, was this an example of CI5's finest at work?" Lady Virginia asked, the sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"Ginnie-" Bodie started.

"No, William." Lady Virginia interrupted him. "This is my granddaughter's safety we're talking about. "I'll not have incompetents protecting her."

Doyle could read the hurt in his partner's eyes. He didn't know what was between Bodie and Lady Virginia, but he wasn't going to sit by and let her tear Bodie up.

"The first sigh of trouble and we find you flat on your back in the stable." Lady Victoria was not letting up. "I'd be better off with Constable Blythe! at least he-"

"Enough!" Doyle go to his feet. "You have no idea-"

"Ray." Bodie stood and put a hand on Doyle's shoulder. "Let it go."

Doyle turned on him. "You're joking, right, mate? I'm not going listen to her-"

"Ray, please."

"Fine. You want to sit here and take her shit, you go ahead. I'm done." Doyle threw his napkin on the table. "And it would be nice if you'd fuckin' tell me just what the hell is goin' on round here." He turned to Lady Virginia and Gemma. "Excuse me ladies." He couldn't help the sneer in his voice as he stalked out of the room.

"A fine class of friends you've surrounded yourself with, William." Lady Virginia hid a smile behind her raised napkin.