Page 19 of Goodnight
‘So, Goodie, how does a girl like you get involved in the security gig?’ Clive asked, his grip on Tils’s shoulder easing. ‘Seems an odd choice for someone of your build.’
‘Odd in what way?’ she asked, her expression neutral.
‘Well, don’t you need to have a bit of muscle behind you in your business?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well … well, I mean …’ Clive waved a hand in Goodie’s direction to illustrate his point. ‘You’re not exactly Goliath.’
‘Correct me if I’m wrong but didn’t David win?’ Goodie asked, her head cocked to the side. Clive huffed out an annoyed breath.
‘You know what I’m getting at. Surely you’d be at a disadvantage in hand-to-hand combat.’
‘You think that because I am smaller than you I am weaker?’ Goodie asked, her tone sounding curious rather than confrontational.
‘It’s just a matter of simple physics,’ Clive told her. ‘I can’t think what would possess a woman to go into your field to be honest.’
Goodie smiled at him, but it was so cold that Nick actually had to hold back a shiver. ‘No, I imagine you can’t,’ she said, taking a step back and then skirting around the group to walk over to Arabella.
‘You’re crazy if you ask me, mate,’ Clive said under his breath to Nick, who was staring across the room watching Goodie squat down in front of Arabella. She had pulled a silver coin out of her pocket and was making it flip over and over on top of her fingers before making it disappear and reappear behind Arabella’s ear. ‘Wouldn’t want a dolly-bird managing my security if I was being threatened left, right and centre.’ Arabella was giggling now as she attempted the same trick under Goodie’s guidance.
‘From what I’ve seen she can handle herself, Clive,’ Nick said levelly. He wondered how he had missed the low-level misogyny Clive tended to spout.
‘Alright, Whitney,’ Clive sneered, annoyed that his friend wasn’t instantly agreeing with him.
‘Careful, mate,’ Nick said, turning away with reluctance from Goodie and Arabella and fixing Clive with a stare.
‘God!’ Clive huffed, lifting his hands up in surrender. ‘What’s happened to you? Can’t take a bit of ribbing all of a sudden? You make that joke yourself all the bloody time. I don’t care what you say; she wouldn’t stand a chance against any decent-sized man. You’re nuts if you think she’s your best option.’
* * *
‘I. Will. Not,’Arabella bit out, her face flushed with anger.
‘Oh come on, darling,’ Tils said, making another grab for her hand. ‘You just can’t stay in your jodhpurs for tonight. You promised. Please. Just this once,’ she cajoled. Clive was shifting impatiently next to them, rubbing the back of his neck and staring up at the ceiling. The three of them were at the bottom of the stairs that Goodie and Salem were coming down. They hadn’t heard her approach – even in heels Goodie could be silent when she wanted to. Tils was wearing a fairly functional black dress which looked like it had been chosen in a hurry. Her eye make-up was smudged and her dark hair was haphazardly pinned on top of her head but she was still stunningly beautiful – like a feminine version of Nick: tall, long limbs, elegant.
‘Stop pandering to the little brat,’ Clive bit out, and Tils gave him a sharp look. ‘Drag her upstairs and force her to get changed. This is a pointless waste of time.’ What Goodie saw next stopped her in her tracks. Clive reached down and closed his large hand around Tils’s slim forearm, dragging her upright from her squat in front of Arabella forcibly. Goodie caught a wince of pain in Tils’s expression, and when she looked at a wide-eyed Arabella she knew she wasn’t the only one who saw it. Tils yanked her arm out of Clive’s grip.
‘Just go in without us, Clive,’ she hissed at him. Clive threw his hands up the air in exasperation and Goodie saw Tils flinch.
‘Arabella,’ Goodie called from her position halfway up the stairs, and three sets of surprised eyes turned to look up at her. ‘Why don’t you come with me? You can show me your room. Maybe there’s something you wouldn’t mind wearing? You would make your babushka happy.’
Arabella started climbing the stairs towards Goodie, who stretched out a hand.
‘What’s babushka?’ she asked.
‘It is how we say grandma in Russia,’ Goodie told her as Arabella’s small hand slipped into hers. Goodie turned to look at Tilly, who mouthed ‘Thank you’ as she backed away down the corridor. Clive paused for a minute at the bottom of the stairs. Goodie thought he was going to say something until she heard Salem vibrate with a low growl. Clive’s gaze snapped to the dog, whose teeth were bared, and backed away to follow Tils.
‘What’s wrong with Salem?’ Arabella asked as they walked up the stairs.
‘Salem is picky,’ Goodie explained. ‘He doesn’t like some people.’
‘Me too,’ Arabella muttered darkly.
When they reached her room, Arabella stopped in the doorway and pointed an accusing finger at the offending items of clothing she had been so adamant not to wear: a sailor dress and white tights. She was eyeing it like it was a MRSA-covered sackcloth. ‘I am not wearing that.’
Goodie shrugged.
‘Find something you will wear that your babushka would like for the party.’
