That Would Be a Fairy Tale - By Amanda Grange Page 0,64

said Cicely. ‘The important thing is to make sure it ends up on the ground. It doesn’t really matter how it becomes dislodged.’ She glanced at the spot again thoughtfully, and then glanced at the bench. Looking up, she cast her eyes around for a suitable place in which to hide.

‘How about the doorway over there?’ suggested Sophie.

Cicely’s eyes followed the direction of Sophie’s hand. Across from the spot where Sophie intended to swoon there was a convenient doorway, just around a corner, which was suitably inconspicuous, but at the same time it was near enough for her to be able to witness the scene. With luck, it should be a good place from which to watch the proceedings. But it was best to make sure.

‘Wait here,’ Cicely said. ‘When I get to the corner and take up my position, I want to know whether you can see me.’

She strolled over to the corner and stepped into the doorway, then turned. From her viewpoint she could see both the bench and the spot where Sophie intended to swoon. Yes, it was the very spot. Just one more thing to check.

‘Could you see me?’ she asked as she went back to Sophie.

‘Not when you drew back,’ said Sophie. ‘As long as you don’t stand too far forward you should not be noticed; particularly as it will be dark, and Mr Goss will not be looking for you.’

‘Very well. It’s settled. I suggest we go for a coffee now, in one of the cafés, and then go back to the villa so that you can practice your swooning again.’

Sophie agreed. ‘I won’t rest until I can dislodge the tiara every time.’

‘He’s here.’ Mrs Lessing’s voice held a note of satisfaction the following morning as she returned from a visit to her friend, Mrs Lincoln, who lived close by. ‘I asked Mrs Lincoln casually if there were any new visitors to town today - it is a source of great interest to us in the summertime, and we always ask each other who has arrived, so the question did not seem unusual - and the Honourable Martin Goss was one of the names she mentioned.’

Cicely spoke calmly. ‘Then it is time to put the first part of our plan into operation.’

She suppressed a feeling of being left out as Sophie and Mrs Lessing put on their outdoor things and prepared to leave for a walk on the promenade. She consoled herself with the fact that she would be able to watch the proceedings on the night of the dinner party, and helped Sophie to arrange her hat.

‘You remember what he looks like?’ asked Cicely, wanting to make sure her aunt and cousin would recognise him.

Mrs Lessing nodded. Cicely had given her a full description of the man.

‘Good,’ said Cicely.

‘Wish me luck!’ said Sophie as she stuck the hatpin into her hair. Her eyes were shining at the thought of the excitement to come.

‘You may not see him today, remember,’ Cicely cautioned her. ‘He may be tired, and spend the rest of the day in his hotel.’

‘Then we will have to try again tomorrow,’ said Sophie. ‘But the sooner we meet him the better. That way, there is more chance of him accepting our invitation.’

Cicely waved her aunt and cousin goodbye, and then sat down with a book. But for once Mr Wodehouse’s glorious comic characters could not hold her interest. She set aside The Pothunters and strolled over to the window. Somewhere down in Marienbad, her aunt and cousin were seeking to draw Mr Goss into their trap.

Cicely, however, must not be seen, which meant that her movements over the next few days would be necessarily restricted. However, she was too restless to remain in the villa, and putting on her coat she went out into the wonderfully-scented pine forest that surrounded it.

She could not help her thoughts drifting back to her encounter with Alex as she walked through the trees, no matter how hard she had tried to put it out of her mind. She wished she understood him. Why had he objected to her marrying Chuff Chuff? What, indeed, had put the idea into his head? And why had he kissed her, driving all thought of everything else out of her mind?

She recalled the daydreams of her childhood, when she had imagined herself playing on the lawns of the Manor with her children, as Haringays had done for time out of mind. But in those daydreams the face of her husband