Page 1 of Sun, Sea & Strawberry Shortcake
Ruby
CHAPTERONE
I’ve never hidden in such a small cupboard before.Well,anycupboard, really. But I suppose there’s a first time foreverything.
It’s dark, cold and musty-smelling and I feel like I’ve beenimprisoned in an upright coffin as I stand here, straining to hear any signs oflife beyond the closed door that’s barely an inch from my nose. Hearing thesounds of him moving around in the living room, my heart pounds faster in myears.
My bottom is wedged in the space between two wooden shelves,the lower one digging into my thigh, and when I move even slightly, my shoulderrattles the ironing board that’s hanging on a nail to my right. Every time ithappens, I wince, feeling he’s bound to hear it.
He seems to be talking to himself...laughing as well... but I can’t make out what he’s saying.Then I hear the unmistakeable creak of the floorboard in the hall outside thekitchen.
He’s coming in!
My palms feel sweaty and I ball my hands and stretch out myfingers as a drop of perspiration trickles down my naked back. Adrenaline is surgingthrough my system – and a sneeze chooses that precise moment to announce itsimminent arrival.
I wiggle my nose, desperate to stop it, and when my handrises instinctively to my face, the ironing board rocks loudly against the wall.But luckily, the sound of his mobile ring tone drowns out the sound.
‘You can’t hide from me forever,’ he calls, sounding scarilyclose now. ‘And when I find you, I’m going to make you pay.’
A shiver runs the length of my spine and I squeeze my eyestightly shut as ‘Hey Jude’ continues to play. The music fades a little as hemoves away, and silence falls as he takes the call, his voice floating upwardsas he speaks. He must be continuing his search upstairs in the bedrooms...and I relax, letting out my breath in a whoosh.
But relaxing proves to be my undoing.
Without warning, the sneeze that’s been brewing blasts out likea high-speed train from a tunnel. It’s an explosion so violent, it actually makesmejump, and the ironing board clanks alarmingly against the wall.
Damn! He’s running downstairs now!
I nip out of the cupboard, and a second before Hudson entersthe kitchen, I manage to slip out the back, clicking the door softly behind me.Which leaves me standing barefoot and shivering on the damp wood of Hudson’spatio, wearing nothing but a plunging black bra and matching micro-knickers.It’s unseasonably chilly for an evening in mid-June. But having spent ages thisafternoon planning a romantic scavenger hunt (which I’m hopeful will culminatein some sexy-sexy times), I’ve got to see it through to the end.
Has he found my last clue?
Right on cue, I hear his incredulous laugh. ‘Er, Miss RubyWatkiss? Where the hell are you? I’m stuck at the clue “Doing this gets youhot”?’
I shake my head, fighting my urge to giggle.
It’s ironing, you plonker!The ironing-boardcupboard. Except I’m not in there now so I’ve rather ruined it all!
I rub my chilly arms furiously. I had great fun doing aNigella with the clues, making them all wickedly racydouble entendres. (Iwas particularly proud of ‘Take me over the car bonnet!’ signalling that thenext clue was concealed in the car cover Hudson uses on icy winter nights.)
‘Listen, I’ve got to go, love,’ he’s calling. ‘Joanna justphoned. The alarm’s going off at work. But I’ll be back in a jiffy. And we cancontinue this – um – very intriguing treasure hunt then, okay?’
Dismayed, I stand there wondering why Joanna Vickers –Hudson’s new assistant – always seems to phone at the most inconvenient oftimes. Then again, it’s hardlyJoanna’sfault the alarm went off just asHudson and I were about to get romantic...
I hear the slam of the front door and reality slaps me inthe face like a bucket of cold water. Hudson doesn’t know I’m here. And theback door has a yale lock.
Which means I’m locked out!
Fear grips me.
It’s a fear that has little to do with being alone, freezingand practically naked in the garden as night falls.
No, what horrifies me most of all is the thought of havingto knock on (sleezy) Mr Nolan’s door for Hudson’s spare key, wearing nothingbut my scanties. Galvanised into action by the appalling image, I race throughthe side gate in a panic. Heedless of the chips of gravel digging into my feet,I shout for Hudson to stop – but I arrive just in time to see the cardisappearing off the driveway and speeding away into the distance.
*****
Shivering, I crouch on the front step, arms around myknees, which are drawn up to my chin.
Glancing at my watch, I calculate that it’ll take Hudson tenminutes to drive to the office on Sunnybrook High Street, five minutes todisable the alarm and ten minutes to drive back. Unless, of course, he stops tochat to Joanna. She’s very handy for her new place of work, living in a stylishtownhouse directly opposite the offices of Hudson’s interior design company, AtHome with Holmes.
