Bella by Jilly Cooper Page A

the post.
    The stand erupted in excitement.
    ‘Christ, what a finish. What a turn-up for the books,’ said Rupert.
    Back in the winner’s enclosure, a great cheer went up as Baudelaire came in.
    The blond girl looked as cool as a cucumber; the other girls dripped with sweat, puce in the face, their mascara running as though they’d just come out of the sauna.
    Baudelaire, his coat covered with the kind of subdued lather you get after the first application of shampoo, marched round the enclosure, still rolling his eyes and laughing in his equine way. Congratulations were being showered on Lazlo like confetti.

Chapter Twelve
    A great deal of champagne was drunk after that, and Bella got separated from Rupert, and was eventually driven back home by a lot of Lazlo’s racing cronies.
    Chrissie, who’d come back with Rupert, had changed for dinner by the time Bella arrived. She looked prettier than Bella had ever seen her, wearing black, with a huge diamond glowing between her breasts.
    ‘That’s gorgeous,’ said Bella, hoping to conciliate her, and picked up the diamond between finger and thumb.
    ‘It’s called the Evening Star,’ said Chrissie, ignoring Bella and speaking directly to Angora. ‘It’s one of the most famous diamonds in the world. My mother would have a fit if she knew I was wearing it.’
    Dinner finished, everyone discussed what to do next.
    ‘We could play sardines,’ said Angora. ‘Or why not murder? I haven’t played that since I was a child.’
    ‘When was that?’ said Steve. ‘Yesterday?’
    Angora pulled a face at him.
    Lazlo looked at his watch. ‘I’ve got to leave for the airport in an hour,’ he said.
    ‘Never mind,’ said Chrissie, looking really excited for the first time in days. ‘We can play a couple of rounds before you go.’
    Oh no, thought Bella, not another of their horrible tribal games.
    Angora dealt out the cards.
    ‘Good.’ Lazlo waved the King of Spades. ‘I’m the detective. I can stay down here and drink brandy.’
    ‘Wait till we get upstairs, Lazlo,’ said Chrissie. ‘Then turn the lights off at the main. We must do it properly.’
    ‘I don’t want to play,’ said Bella quickly.
    ‘Come on, don’t be a spoilsport,’ said Angora, taking her arm.
    ‘Well, I’m going to stay with Rupert then.’
    ‘No, you’re not,’ said Angora relentlessly as they climbed the main staircase. ‘You go along that passage, Bella. Rupert go this way, and the rest of us will fan out towards the West Wing.’
    As soon as she was alone, Bella quickened her pace. If she could find some room and lock herself in, she’d be safe.
    She started to run, then, suddenly, everything was plunged into suffocating darkness as the lights went out. She fell over a chair, then found a door. It was locked. Whimpering with terror, she crossed the passage and found another door. That was locked, too.
    Then she heard footsteps behind her – slow, relentless. She gave a sob. Slimy terror gripped her. She crashed across the passage again, found another door. It was open.
    She shot inside and pulled it shut behind her. But there was no lock. Her heart pounding, she leant against it.
    The footsteps grew closer, then stopped outside. Panic-stricken, she bolted across the room, crashing into more furniture, trying to find the window. Then she heard someone stealthily opening the door, then, equally stealthily, closing it. Someone was in the room with her.
    ‘Who is it?’ she croaked in terror.
    Then, suddenly, as a waft of scent reached her, she nearly fainted with relief. She’d recognize that smell anywhere. It was Steve’s aftershave.
    ‘Steve!’ she sobbed. ‘Oh, Steve!’
    ‘Are you by yourself?’ came the whisper.
    ‘Yes. I’m so frightened!’
    She stumbled forward and, the next moment, she was in his arms and bursting into a flood of tears.
    ‘I can’t bear it! I can’t bear it! Stop torturing me like this!’
    He kissed her as he’d never kissed her before – as