A Sprinkle of Sabotage by Fiona Leitch (famous ebook reader TXT) 📕

away from the house, you could still enjoy the beautiful grounds: a massive lawn, with a croquet area to one side; a medieval knot garden with low box hedges forming an intricate pattern and then in-filled with lavenders and other fragrant plants; and of course the fountain. And further on, there was a large ornamental lake, completely man-made but naturalised with plants and trees around the edge. And something else, in the middle of it.

‘Princess! Princess! Help, my baby!’ Kimi stood helplessly at the edge of the lake, shrieking, while her sister gingerly set foot into the cold water. She was only a little way from the edge but it was already up to her knees, and she seemed reluctant to go in any further.

‘Oh bloody hell, how did the dog get out there?’ I said. We ran over to Kimi and before I could even think, Tony had pulled off his shoes and plunged in…

Chapter Six

Tony thrashed through the water, wading out as far as he could and then swimming out to the centre. The daft dog was fighting to stay afloat, weighed down as she must have been by her long, hairy coat, and her struggles were actually taking her further and further out into the water.

Tony eventually reached her and grabbed hold of her, then turned and struck out again for the edge of the lake. By now, most of the cast and crew were watching, though none of them went in to help. Then again, it was ‘only’ a dog, and Tony was clearly a strong swimmer – one of the benefits of growing up by the sea.

As he reached shallow water he stood up and trudged soggily through the pondweed, scattering surprised ducks before him.

‘Oh my…’ said Debbie next to me, as I felt my jaw drop.

Tony’s white shirt was of course soaked through and now almost transparent, and it clung to a hitherto completely unsuspected set of abs, well defined with what could have been a hint of chest hair, although he was too far away for me to see properly and I may have been imagining it. As he waded towards us I was transported back to the evening of the 15th of October 1995, and I was sitting at home with my mum eating Quality Street (Mum had brought an almost-out-of-date box home from her job at the Co-op) and watching BBC1, unaware that a seminal moment in my young life was about to occur. I unwrapped a Green Triangle, tuning out the sound of Mum’s chatter, popped the chocolate in my mouth, and then almost choked. Mum stopped talking. On screen, Mr Darcy strode manfully out of the lake at Pemberley and into the hearts of women (and no doubt a few men) across the nation.

In front of the watching film crew, Tony strode manfully out of the water just like Mr Darcy, the effect only slightly spoilt by the fact that he was carrying a wriggling, bedraggled dog and had a clump of pondweed on his left shoulder. He saw everyone watching and looked around, surprised, then caught my eye and grinned. My heart beat a little bit faster and I was disgusted with it for being so predictable.

As he reached dry land, Kimi ran over and threw herself at him, hugging both the rescuer and the rescuee to her silk-clad chest. I noticed that she was crying – she obviously genuinely loved that dog – but she was managing not to ugly-cry or get snotty. It’s not fair how some women can do everything beautifully. I’ve always managed to do the opposite. Every time I go to the hairdresser (not very often), I’ll come out with an amazing hairdo and immediately the heavens will open, the winds will whip up, and I end up looking like I just stepped out of the salon and into the path of a tornado.

‘Someone get this man a towel!’ Faith barged past me and for a moment I thought she was going to wrestle Kimi for him. I had visions of each of them grabbing an arm and pulling, and poor Tony – poor, soaking wet, ripped Tony – being literally ripped … in two, with each woman holding an arm and half a muscular torso (a three-pack?). But there was no need for Faith to resort to physical violence, as one look from the woman who I was beginning to realise wasn’t quite as sweet and cuddly as her National Treasure status suggested was enough for the young, beautiful pretender to relinquish her trophy and let go of him.

‘Who is this guy?’ muttered one of the crew behind me. ‘Isn’t he the one who was sniffing around Faith yesterday?’ The man next to him laughed.

‘He’s just some extra who’s trying to bag himself a speaking part,’ he said, and they both sniggered. I saw red.

‘Actually,’ I said, turning on them furiously, ‘Tony Penhaligon is the nicest, most decent person you could ever meet. He’s always there when anyone needs help, including Faith when she got locked in her trailer and none of you lot had the brains or the brawn to get her out. He’d give you the shirt off his back if you needed it more than him.’

Both men looked taken aback.

‘All right, sorry, love…’ said one, holding his hands up to protect himself (from what? from me? surely not). But I wasn’t so easily placated.

‘Pro tip: never slag someone off if there’s a possibility their best mate is standing next to you!’ I snarled (I hadn’t intended to snarl, but it just kind of came out that way). ‘Also, I’m not your love. Now, if you’ll excuse me…’ And I stormed off, not sure where I was going but heading instinctively towards the food truck, horribly aware that I’d probably just made a spectacle of myself.

‘Jodie! Wait!’ Debbie flew after me. I rounded the corner of the house and stopped, letting her catch up. I could feel my