Read Online The MacGregor by Jenny Brigalow - Free Book Online Page B

Lydia and Nancy. They both retreated but still watched him with anxious eyes.
    â€˜Sean, are you all right?’ asked Nancy.
    Sean wasn’t sure. He sat up slowly and blinked. The night was cool, mist curled and crept over the meadow, the moon hung like a fat slice of lemon in an inky sky, and Salem sat watching him with wide eyes. Everything was as it should be. Nothing was different. Which didn’t seem right, somehow.
    He shivered violently. And looked down. And let out a yelp of indignation. What the hell? He glared at the two women whose lips twitched suspiciously.
    â€˜Where the hell are my clothes?’ he spat.
    â€˜There, there, don’t warp your wand. Everything’s in hand. I’ll just get them for you,’ said Lydia in a voice that Sean felt she would usually reserve for infants and handicapped puppies.
    He did not reply but glared. She backed away and Sean watched as she wandered, apparently aimlessly, along the riverbank. Oh, this was priceless. He turned on Nancy and caught her peeping at him from under her eyelashes. ‘Don’t just stand there, go and help!’
    With obvious reluctance Nancy moved away, turning to cast wistful looks at him as she went. Sean looked around, hoping beyond hope to spot his clothes. Dammit.
    A wave of blistering anger washed through him. What the hell was going on? Once he was dressed he was going to phone the police and report the two crazies for…trespass…indecent assault…and probably date rape. Oh yes, he was on to them. They’d lured him down here and drugged him and taken advantage of him. They were seriously twisted.
    His rage escalated as the two women came sauntering back across the pasture towards him. ‘Take your bloody time, why don’t you!’ he yelled. He shot them a look that should have made them melt on the spot.
    The two women accelerated from a snail’s pace to a tortoise trot. To his relief he noted they both had bundles of clothes in their hands. About time.
    Lydia’s large dark eyes smiled at him, but he stubbornly refused to be charmed by a possible rapist.
    â€˜Sean,’ she said, ‘we’ve found your things.’
    Sean held out his hands and hastily dropped them again. ‘Throw them over here, and turn around.’
    Nancy took a step closer and stopped. ‘There’s a bit of a problem, I’m afraid.’
    Sean groaned. Surprise, surprise. ‘What?’ he snapped.
    â€˜Well, they seem to be a bit wet…’ Nancy said softly.
    â€˜On account of their being in the water…’ Lydia explained helpfully.
    A great wave of exhaustion ran through him and suddenly all he wanted was to be dry, warm and dressed and sipping a massive whisky in the kitchen. What he needed was time to think. His head felt strange. Not hung over, but…too full. Like a shopping bag that you know is going to burst. And he desperately wanted to get home before the plastic split.
    â€˜Give them here,’ he said. And the two women plonked them at his side. For a moment he contemplated putting them on. But dismissed the idea with a shudder. ‘I’m going to go home now. And you two are to leave in the opposite direction. You will not look back or I’ll probably have to kill the pair of you.’
    Nancy and Lydia hushed and shushed him, apologising and threatening to pop back in the morning.
    â€˜Don’t even think about it!’ he growled.
    And with cheery rounds of ‘goodnight’ the women collected their things and set off towards the gate. Sean waited for five minutes, leapt up, grabbed his clothes and legged it into the forest.
    Under cover he relaxed a little. But he refused to let himself think. He’d sort himself out once he got home. Maybe a hot bath and a whisky would help.
    Salem flitted by chasing a bat. Sean clenched his hands around the sodden clothes. And then he remembered he was expecting company. Megan had said she would