Page 58 of The Wedding Cake Wish
I sigh. ‘You mean coming here might have been all fornothing?’
‘Maybe. But I suppose the main thing is that he gets homeand puts everyone’s mind at rest.’
‘I’ve enjoyed our little trip, though.’
He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looksdown at me. ‘Me, too. The company especially.’ He nudges my shoulder gently,and my heart does a little dance in my chest.
‘Yeah, I suppose I can’t complain. You’ve been far lessannoying than usual.’
He snorts. ‘Same goes, Miss Marple.’
We start walking over to the fountain where everyone’sgathering for the promised display.
‘I have a feeling Rory’s gone,’ says Hudson.
I look around, searching for any sight of him. ‘We couldlook in the café again?’
Hudson nods and we walk over and peer in the windows.
‘Not there. Let’s check out the office.’
I follow Hudson round the back of the building and cup myhands at the window to block out the light so I can see inside. But it’s fairlyclear that it’s deserted. Everyone’s at the fountain, waiting for the displayto start.
‘I reckon you’re right. He’s gone,’ I murmur. ‘Is there anypoint hanging around here? Perhaps we’d be better heading back to the glampingsite? He might be there.’
‘Maybe.’ Hudson hesitates. ‘Fancy seeing the show before wego?’
‘Okay. Come on, then. It’s just about to start.’
We hurry over and join the crowd gathered around the hugeornamental fountain. Just in time, too, as the music suddenly starts up, alongwith jets of water in a rainbow of colours shooting up from dozens of waterconduits at the same time, appearing to dance in time to the classical musicthat’s playing.
It’s a truly spectacular show, and Stephanie is looking verypleased with herself. She’s actually smiling, possibly for the first timetoday. And she’s standing by the journalists as they photograph and film thespectacular event for their publications and news programmes later.
‘Wow, this is amazing.’ I smile up at Hudson. ‘It was worththe trip just for this.’ My eye carries across the gardens and over to the cuteToadstool Café, taking in the beautiful thatched roof, before swinging acrossto Tommy’s Treehouse. ‘This really is a gorgeous place. I’m so glad we – ’
I freeze, my words petering out in shock. ‘Look.’ I point atthe balcony of the treehouse and Hudson glances up at it.
His mouth opens but no sound comes out as he stares at theman standing there, surveying all he sees. Rory is leaning slightly forwards,his hands on the balcony rail, eyes fixed on the display. It’s impossible tosee his expression from here, but warning bells are jangling in my head justobserving his body language.
He looks tense...expectant.
And then suddenly, without warning, a jet of water changesdirection and hurls itself straight at me.
Icy cold water hits me again and again, drenching me fromhead to foot in the first second, and as I gasp and cover my face in a uselessattempt at deflecting the next dousing, I’m aware that everyone around me issquealing.
Hudson grabs my hand and we join the surge of people rushingfor cover and screaming as more jets of water shower over them. I’m aware of afew kids laughing delightedly and squealing with excitement, and runningtowards the crazy jets of water, and their parents having to grab their hands andforcibly remove them from the drenching.
At last, we’re out of range of the zig-zagging jets, and weturn and gaze at the scene before us. Panting, I catch sight of Stephanie andmy heart misses a beat. She’s crouched down, arms over her head to shield herselffrom the cascading water, staring in horror at the chaos. The most importantevent of her entire career has been turned into a farce, and the journalistsare now working overtime, intent on snapping the story of the day...aprestigious event ruined by a rampaging, out-of-control water show, jetssnaking everywhere except where they’re supposed to.
Then I glance up at the balcony and the chills I’m alreadyfeeling – from being soaked to the skin again – multiply a hundredfold. I gripHudson’s arm and he follows my gaze.
Standing there, arms folded, as still as a statue – with agrandstand view of the unstoppable maelstrom playing out below him – is Rory.
In the space of a few seconds, a highly-organised,successful event has been transformed into the stuff of nightmares.
Even from this distance, I can sense the grim, satisfiedsmile on Rory’s face...
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
