Be Careful What You Wish For (The Clifton Chronicles) Read online

  “Good evening, Mr. Buchanan,” said the woman, to Ross’s surprise. He gave her a second look, but still didn’t recognize her. “My name’s Kitty,” she said, offering a gloved hand. “I see you regularly on this train, but then, you are a director of British Railways.”

  Ross smiled and took a sip of his drink. “So what do you do that takes you to London and back so regularly?”

  “I’m self-employed,” said Kitty.

  “And what kind of business are you in?” asked Ross as the steward appeared by his side.

  “Your compartment is ready, sir, if you’d like to follow me.”

  Ross downed his drink. “Nice to meet you, Kitty.”

  “You too, Mr. Buchanan.”

  “What a charming young lady, Angus,” said Ross as he followed the steward to his compartment. “She was about to tell me why she travels so frequently on this train.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know, sir.”

  “I’m sure you do, Angus, because there’s nothing you don’t know about The Night Scotsman.”

  “Well, let’s just say she’s very popular with some of our regulars.”

  “Are you suggesting…?”

  “Aye, sir. She travels up and down two or three times a week. Very discreet and—”

  “Angus! We’re running The Night Scotsman, not a nightclub.”

  “We’ve all got to make a living, sir, and if things go well for Kitty, everybody benefits.”

  Ross burst out laughing. “Do any of the other directors know about Kitty?”

  “One or two. She gives them a special rate.”

  “Behave yourself, Angus.”

  “Sorry, sir.”

  “Now, back to your day job. I want to see the bookings for all the first-class passengers. There may be someone on the train I’d like to have dinner with.”

  “Of course, sir.” Angus removed a sheet of paper from his clipboard and handed it to Buchanan. “I’ve kept your usual table free for dinner.”

  Ross ran his finger down the list, to discover that Mr. D. Martinez was in coach No. 4. “I’d like to have a word with Kitty,” he said as he passed the list back to Angus. “And without anyone else finding out.”

  “Discretion is my middle name,” said Angus, suppressing a smile.

  “It’s not what you think it is.”

  “It never is, sir.”

  “And I want you to allocate my table in the dining car to Mr. Martinez, who has a compartment in coach four.”

  “Aye, sir,” said Angus, now completely baffled.

  “I’ll keep your little secret, Angus, if you keep mine.”

  “I would, sir, if I had any idea what yours was.”

  “You will by the time we reach London.”

  “I’ll go and fetch Kitty, sir.”

  Ross tried to marshal his thoughts as he waited for Kitty to join him. What he had in mind was nothing more than a stalling tactic, but it might just give him enough time to come up with something more effective. The door of his compartment slid open, and Kitty slipped in.

  “How nice to see you again, Mr. Buchanan,” she said as she took the seat opposite him and crossed her legs to reveal the top of her stockings. “Can I be of service?”

  “I hope so,” said Ross. “How much do you charge?”

  “Rather depends on what you’re looking for.” Ross told her exactly what he was looking for.

  “That’ll be five pounds, sir, all in.”

  Ross took out his wallet, extracted a five-pound note and handed it across to her.

  “I’ll do my best,” Kitty promised as she lifted her skirt and slipped the note into the top of a stocking, before disappearing as discreetly as she’d arrived.

  Ross pressed the red button by the door and the steward reappeared moments later.

  “Have you reserved my table for Mr. Martinez?”

  “Aye, and found you a place at the other end of the dining car.”

  “Thank you, Angus. Now Kitty is to be seated opposite Mr. Martinez, and anything she eats or drinks is to be charged to me.”

  “Very good, sir. But what about Mr. Martinez?”

  “He will pay for his meal, but he’s to be given the finest wines and liqueurs, and it’s to be made clear to him that they are on the house.”

  “Are they also to be charged to you, sir?”

  “Yes. But he’s not to know, because I’m rather hoping Mr. Martinez will sleep soundly tonight.”

  “I think I’m beginning to understand, sir.”

  After the steward had left, Ross wondered if Kitty could pull it off. If she could get Martinez so drunk that he remained in his compartment until nine the next morning, she would have done her job, and Ross would happily have parted with another fiver. He particularly liked her idea of handcuffing him to the four corners of the bed and then hanging the Do not disturb sign on the door. No one would be suspicious, because you didn’t have to leave the train until 9:30, and many passengers appreciated a lie-in before enjoying a late breakfast of Arbroath Smokies.

  Ross left his compartment just after eight, made his way to the dining room and walked straight past Kitty, who was sitting opposite Diego Martinez. As he passed, he overheard the chief sommelier taking them through the wine list.

  Angus had placed Ross at the far end of the carriage, with his back to Martinez, and although he was tempted more than once to look around, unlike Lot’s wife he resisted. After he’d finished his coffee, having rejected his usual balloon of brandy, he signed the bill and made his way back to his compartment. As he passed his usual table, he was delighted to see that it was no longer occupied. Feeling quite pleased with himself, he almost strutted back to his carriage.

  The feeling of triumph evaporated the moment he opened his compartment door and saw Kitty sitting there.

  “What are you doing here? I thought—”

  “I couldn’t arouse any interest, Mr. Buchanan,” she said. “And don’t think I didn’t try everything from bondage to gymslips. To start with, he doesn’t drink. Some religious thing. And long before the main course, it became clear that it’s not women that turn him on. I’m sorry, sir, but thank you for dinner.”

  “Thank you, Kitty. I’m most grateful,” he said as he sank into the seat opposite her.

  Kitty lifted her skirt, took the five-pound note from the top of her stocking and handed it back to him.

  “Certainly not,” he said firmly. “You earned it.”

  “I could always…” she said, placing a hand under his kilt, her fingers moving slowly up his thigh.

  “No, thank you, Kitty,” he said, raising his eyes to the heavens in mock horror. That was when the second idea came to him. He handed the five-pound note back to Kitty.

  “You’re not one of those weird ones, are you, Mr. Buchanan?”

  “I must admit, Kitty, what I’m about to propose is pretty weird.”

  She listened carefully to what service she was expected to perform. “What time do you want me to do that?”

  “Around three, three thirty.”

  “Where?”

  “I’d suggest the lavatory.”

  “And how many times?”

  “I would think once would be enough.”

  “And I won’t get into trouble, will I, Mr. Buchanan? Because this is a steady earner, and most of the gentlemen in first class are not very demanding.”

  “You have my word, Kitty. This is a one-off, and no one need ever know you were involved.”

  “You’re a gent, Mr. Buchanan,” she said and gave him a kiss on the cheek before slipping out of the compartment.

  Ross wasn’t sure what might have happened if she’d stayed a minute or two longer. He pressed the steward’s bell and waited for Angus to appear.

  “I hope that was satisfactory, sir?”

  “I can’t be sure yet.”

  “Anything else I can do for you, sir?”

  “Yes, Angus. I need a copy of the railway’s regulations and statutes.”