Clementine and her Stalker

 

Chapter Three 

 

All that weekend, I couldn’t keep my mind off that scene in the passage of Clem being intercepted – for that was what had happened. 

If they had sussed out what had occurred – that Clem and I had met – no matter how innocent such an event had been, it surely hadn’t been taken as such by Mary-Anne and her companion. Just one distant look at Mary-Anne’s sharp eyes told me that. 

It seemed the intention was to eliminate the possibility of Clem forming a friendship with anyone while she was in Stamford. It just reinforced my earlier opinion that the earl realised he was in the last chance saloon now when it came to rectifying his wayward daughter’s behaviour. 

In view of her age and apparent attitude, his chances were zero in the end. I knew that, but it did nothing to assist my already slim hopes of a closer association with her. 

I was already resigned to the likelihood of her not turning up on the meadows the following Friday, and even though the sultry weather had broken down into something unseasonably chilly, I wasn’t putting that down as the reason for her absence. I sat on the same bench as we had on the previous Friday, waited thirty minutes or so before giving up and slowly trudging back up the passage. 

As previously stated, it had appeared to me that Clem’s school lodgings had to be somewhere nearby, and I hovered around at the top of the passage hoping that she’d appear. There were several potential locations across from the passage, but that only made it virtually impossible to identify a definite one.  

I had Clem’s number, of course, and I tried it several times over the following few days, but on each occasion, it was turned off. 

Initially, I worried about her safety but gradually told myself that I was being foolish, and that the chances of the daughter of an earl coming to harm and being unreported were virtually zero. I just had to assume that she was well under the influence of her ‘minders’. 

 

*** 

 

One morning, about a week later, I’d plonked myself down on a bench at the top of High Street and was going through my college notes when on the perimeter of my eye I caught the outline of a figure park itself a couple of feet away. 

I was irritated and about to move, after all, it wasn’t as if the benches were all occupied. 

But then I heard that voice. 

“Missed you, stalker.” 

Clementine! My mouth fell open as I gazed at her. 

“You can stop gawking anytime you want. There are enough goldfish in the school fish tank.” 

I shook my head, smiled at her. “Good to see you. Where have you been?” 

She leaned towards me, flicked a rogue strand of my hair, and warmth flooded through me. 

“Under virtual lock and key, I’m afraid.  Literally shadowed by Father’s guys and constantly accompanied by Mary-Anne …” She broke off, levelling her sky-blue eyes at me, “… until yesterday.” 

I frowned. “What happened yesterday?” I could see from her expression that she was willing me to ask. 

“Father recalled his two staff – it’s a busy time on the estate now, and I think he found himself short-handed. I guess with little over a week to go, he felt that Mary-Anne’s watchful eye was all he needed,” she paused, “except …” 

“Except?” 

“Mary-Anne got called away, illness in her family – her mother. She was shaken up and took off quite abruptly. It doesn’t seem that she’s told Father.” 

“So that leaves you …” 

“Yep, licensed to roam.” She cocked her little finger like it was a pistol and then playfully punched my arm.  “I’ve been looking for you since yesterday.” 

“Could have phoned.” 

She shook her head. “No, bad move. Phones can be checked. No sense in taking chances.” 

I thought about asking her why she hadn’t come to the college and then realised that all she knew was that I was studying creative writing, nothing more. 

“So, I’ve been thinking,” she said laying a hand on my knee and sending my temperature soaring. 

“H’mmm?” I answered, leaning towards her. 

“Well, this is my last full week coming up. Next weekend, I’ll need to start packing, and as this weekend is almost upon us …” She slapped her hands and then held them under her chin, “I thought we might spend Saturday in London.” 

“London?” 

“Yes, that big place down south.” 

I didn’t know what to think.  Clem looked thrilled at the prospect, and although I had my doubts – huge doubts – I didn’t want to see her face drop. 

“London is expensive,” I put forward. 

She shook her head, made those blonde ringlets swirl around it. “I have means. It’s not as if I’ve had much chance to spend anything since I’ve been here.” 

Springing to her feet, she reached down for my hand. “Come on; let’s take a walk down to the meadows. Run over some of the finer details.” 

Finer details. She spoke as though everything was settled, and I suppose it was. My head was reeling. Saturday in London with the beautiful Clementine. The beautiful and unpredictable Clementine. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that we’d be better off staying in Stamford. 

“So this is what I think we’ll do—” Clem swung her blonde head towards me, the ringlets sweeping across her face for a second as the breeze sprung up. 

“Go on,” I prompted, somewhat disconcerted at the way she’d immediately assumed command – this hardly seemed like it was going to be a joint venture. 

“Well,” she continued, “change at Peterborough for King’s Cross, head for Oxford Street and Regent Street – browse around Liberty’s and then on to Covent Garden. Hit a few bars, clubs maybe, I know of one or two.” 

I looked out across the meadows, not liking how this was going – knowing of her previous reputation and all – and yet despite my previous reservations, I found myself going along with it. 

She poked my arm. “Speak up, stalker, what do you think?” 

Okay, at least she’d asked me what I thought. “Fine,” I said, providing you curb your more questionable activities – and I do wish you’d stop calling me stalker.” 

But Clem had crossed her arms over her chest, those lovely eyes showing offence. “That was then,” she snapped. “I’ve transformed – I’ve changed,” and then a mischievous smile drifted across her face. She raised her hand, palm facing me, “Girl Guides’ honour.” 

Yeah, like I believed that, judging by the look she was giving me. “Have you ever been a Girl Guide?” 

“Well, no – but that doesn’t mean …” 

I rolled my eyes, not being able to imagine such a thing at all. Clem narrowed her eyes, kept them on me until I turned towards her. 

“You don’t believe I’ll be a good girl, do you?” 

“In a word, no.” 

“Well, I’ll prove you wrong,” she said, grabbing my hand and swinging it. “I like a challenge.” 

“Great,” I thought, apprehension cloaking me like a cloud at the thought of what I might be getting myself into. Clem was barely old enough to be frequenting bars and suchlike, even though her looks alone could tell a different story. 

We stopped by the brook where we’d first met – I slapped my hand on the railings, eyes on the ducks below. “So then, what time do we set out?” 

“The earlier, the better, stalker.” 

I rolled my eyes, sighed. 

“What’s up? You not an up with the lark kind of guy?” 

“You know what it is.” But despite my frustration, I had to smile. 

“Nope, no idea. School didn’t teach me mind reading.” 

“Oh for …” 

“Tut, tut, temper, temper.” She gave a smile of angelic proportions, eyes wide, and before I could react, said, “So then, bus station at seven?” 

I shrugged. “How do we know there’s a bus at seven?” 

“Who mentioned buses?” 

I frowned, shook my head. “Look, you just said …” 

“Bus station at seven.” She thrust her hands on hips, narrowed her brows, those blue eyes unblinking. “Taxi, dear boy. Try to use a little of that creative writing imagination. Since I have no idea where your lodgings are, it’s the simplest solution – and before you say anything, I’m paying.” 

“You could have just said the magic word, ‘taxi’ and I would have understood … and no, I’m not entirely broke; we’ll split the bill,” I said. I shook my head, gazed skyward and then back at her. “You’re hard work, know that?” 

Her eyebrows rose. “Me, nuh cocker, I ain’t that.” 

I had to laugh. “You’ll have to work on that accent … it doesn’t quite come off.” 

She tilted her head at me. Not a lot; as I’ve said, Clem was almost my height. “Is that so? Well, I’m going to prove to you I can do a cockney accent as well as any Londoner. Just wait until tomorrow.” 

“I covered my eyes with both hands, drew them slowly down my face. “You wouldn’t.” 

“When in Rome …” She gave me that breathtaking smile, but this time the cheeky version. 

“Well, for one thing, central Londoners don’t tend to speak cockney. Look, you promised to behave yourself, and we haven’t even left Stamford yet.” 

The breeze swept up from the meadows, and she shivered. Whether it was involuntary, who knew? There was no knowing with her, but I narrowly resisted the temptation to curl my arm around her shoulders. What her reaction would have been, who could tell? But the word ‘friend’ had lodged itself in my brain, and the prospect of getting romantically involved with an earl’s daughter was unthinkable, coupled with the fact that she was as unpredictable as the US president on a bad morning. 

“Did you hear me?” 

I blinked. I must have been deep in thought; I hadn’t heard her. “What?” 

“I said I’d behave; scout’s honour and all that. She gave the salute. 

“You’re not a scout,” I said, raising my eyes towards the heavens. And you’re not a girl guide either, we’ve established that, so your undertaking doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.” 

She shrugged, sending her  ringlets dancing across her shoulders. “Oh, well, guess you’ll just have to trust me,” and with that she turned her back and began walking away. “See you tomorrow, bright and early.” 

“I can walk you back,” I called after her, already having an idea of what the answer might be. 

“No need.” She gave a wave, albeit an aristocratic one, though even that may have been contrived. “I’m a big girl. Bright and early, remember?” 

How could I forget? I raised a hand and walked away. The prospect of Clem going naked in central London something I struggled to dispense with. 

 

*** 

 

It wasn’t until I was up, showered, and dressed the next morning that it struck me. Why on earth were we taking a taxi to Peterborough when there was a station right here in Stamford? 

Could Clem have overlooked this, or could it be that she wasn’t aware of the station’s existence, not being a local girl? 

But that was a bit hard to believe when all said and done, because despite the presence of her minders, she seemed pretty clued-up. 

Anyway, I didn’t have to wait long to discover the answer to that, for as I reached the bus station, a private hire was waiting there, and a swirl of golden hair appeared from a rear window. 

“Just in time,” she called out, “any longer and I’d have gone without you.” 

I placed my holdall on the back seat, climbed in beside her. Glancing over, I struggled to keep my eyes off her black denim mini skirt and white T-shirt, no doubt designed to emphasise her curvy figure. 

Recovering my composure and ignoring her raised brows, I said as quietly as I could the question hot on my lips, “Why the heck are we taking a cab to Peterborough when there’s a station in Stamford?” 

She leaned closer, tapped a finger on my nose. “I see you worked it out, clever boy.” 

I sat open-mouthed. “Well?” 

Clem shrugged. I have to be a good girl and use up my allowance to the full. It’s only fair on Father.” 

I scoffed. “He’ll go through the roof if he finds out you spent three times the amount you could have if you caught the train.” 

“Won’t he just. And he’ll orbit the space station when he sees the receipts for the London trip.” 

I took a breath, looked at her gobsmacked. “You’re actually going to give him …” 

“Naturally,” she said, her voice as smooth as satin. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll keep you out of it. Say |I went with a friend; he doesn’t have to know what sex.” 

“But won’t he go ballistic?” 

She tapped me on the shoulder as the cab sped out of Stamford and onto the A1. “Oh, stalker, of course he will. I’m eighteen imminently, school will be finished. What can he do? It’s payback time.” 

I let the stalker tag go unchallenged for once, not that it would have made a difference to Clem, anyhow. “Payback time as in you being sent here?” 

“Exactly, you’re catching on fast.” 

I slapped my hand on my forehead. “I see why I come into the equation now,” I said as quietly as possible. “I’m being used to get back at your …” 

“No, silly. I’ve told you,” Clem raised her voice, and I realised that she hardly ever did that. She actually seemed offended, either that I’d thought such a thing or that she’d raised her voice. 

“I’ve told you; this is on me. You’re in the clear.” The blue eyes chided me. “I like you stalker, and I reckon you like me.” 

That placated me somewhat, except for – “Then stop calling me stalker; it makes me sound like a creep.” 

“Not a chance.” She looked away and then flashed her dazzling smile before planting a kiss on my cheek. “We’re going to have ourselves a wow of a day.” 

I huffed but smiled nonetheless. “As long as you …” 

“Behave yourself,” she finished for me along with the scouts’ salute. 

I shook my head, watched the smile remain on Clem’s face, not in the least comforted by the fact that it looked to be one of mischief.