The Nanny Part 15

"What's that smell?" asked the constable.

"s.h.i.+t," groaned Nick, looking at his shoe. "That's me. Sorry."

Meanwhile two Flying Squaddies flew to the back garden and made their way to the kitchen door. One found the broken slatted windows by the wall, saw the man-sized hole in the window, and peered round the kitchen door to see a tall, dark figure hunched up at a door in the back corner of the kitchen, listening intently, his hand on the handle.

He whispered into his radio.

"Intruder's about to enter informant's door."

As he spoke, the front door was kicked from outside. He jumped through the window, followed by his partner. By the time they arrived in Jo's dark bedroom, they could vaguely make her out, standing by her bed, in a most becoming T-s.h.i.+rt and knickers, brandis.h.i.+ng an encyclopedia at a tall young male intruder.

Suddenly Nick and Gerry appeared, followed closely by two constables. The intruder held up his hands and Jo screamed, dropping the encyclopedia on her head. The intruder then launched himself at Nick, Gerry sprang at the intruder, and the constables attacked the Flying Squaddies. Meanwhile Jo crouched on the floor finding G.o.d.

The intruder wrestled himself away from Nick and Gerry, bolted for the door of Jo's living room, ran straight into her box marked fragile, collapsed knee first onto a sharp edge poking out of it, dived sideways onto the metal framework of her rucksack and catapulted himself headfirst into her door frame, from where he executed a stunning backward triple toe loop onto a different, larger, sharper edge poking out of her box marked fragile, all the while emitting a warlike howl. Finally, he crumpled facedown in her suitcase, a resigned and changed man.

Everyone heard the trumpet before they saw it and when the bedroom light was flicked on, they froze, like children caught with crumbs all over their faces. Gradually, one by one, they noticed Vanessa and d.i.c.k, who were standing outside the room, wearing one set of pajamas between them and each with a hissing cat by their feet. In the following silence, they took in the carnage, trying to make sense of everything.

After a moment, the Flying Squaddies looked at the constables they were garrotting and let go, only to be pounced on and half-nelsoned by Nick and Gerry.

Vanessa blew the child's trumpet again.

"Right!" she shouted. "I'm not afraid to use this!"

d.i.c.k brandished his mobile phone. "I've called the police."

"We are the police," said Gerry.

This took a moment to sink in.

"So are we," said someone in a half-nelson. "Flying Squad."

This took another moment to sink in.

"So are we," said one of the constables. He hated to be left out.

"No s.h.i.+t, Sherlock," said Gerry. "We thought you were strip-a-grams."

"Convince me you're Flying Squad," Nick ordered the man underneath him.

"Let go or I'll f.u.c.king geld you."

Nick let go. He knew the Flying Squad tone. Gerry was persuaded to do the same with the man beneath him.

Vanessa and d.i.c.k tried to take in the situation as quickly as possible.

"What are you all doing in my house?" asked d.i.c.k eventually.

"Our house, darling."

Three children appeared behind him in the kitchen. "Go back to bed!" yelled Vanessa. Everyone jumped.

"What is that awful smell?" she asked.

"Oh s.h.i.+t," said Nick. "That's me. Well it's not me-"

"There's an intruder," sobbed Jo.

"There are six intruders," corrected Vanessa. "One who seems to have filled his own trousers."

"It's a dog c.r.a.p, I haven't-"

"He's the intruder!" shouted Jo, pointing at the intruder, who was lying in her suitcase, his nose in her favorite lace thong.

"I'm not an intruder," he whispered.

"You look like an intruder to me, mate," said Gerry, taking the opportunity to half-nelson him.

"Well, I'm not!"

Gerry pulled his arm tighter behind him.

"Ow!" yelped the intruder.

"What would you call yourself then, mate?"

There was a long silence, as the intruder wiped his tears angrily on Jo's underwear.

"I'm an accountant," he hissed.

"Right," Nick told Gerry. "Cuff the comedian."

Then to everyone's surprise, d.i.c.k rushed forward and collapsed on the floor next to the intruder, his arm round his shoulder.

"Oh my G.o.d!" he cried. "It's Jos.h.!.+"

"Where?" asked Gerry. "Who's Josh?"

"My son!" cried d.i.c.k. "Get off him!"

"Are you sure, sir-"

"Get off my son!"

Slowly Gerry let go of the intruder's arm and let it fall limply in Jo's undies. There was a very long silence. Eventually, the intruder squirmed painfully into a small fetal ball facing d.i.c.k.

"Hi, Dad," he said weakly. "I like the new TV."

Jo blinked as Gerry stepped away from d.i.c.k's eldest son. Painfully, slowly, Josh opened out the full length of his body and lay on his back in her open suitcase, breathing shallowly. As Jo frowned down at him, Josh Fitzgerald slowly came into focus.

He had his father's tall, boyish figure and thick, wavy dark hair. A bruise was just beginning to show between liquid brown eyes that were heavy with thick, wet eyelashes, a fresh cut emphasized high cheekbones, a line of blood trickled toward full lips and a firm jaw, and his chin, complete with dimple, was trying hard not to quiver.

She stared at him, dumbfounded. Did he really have her thong wrapped round his left ear, or was she still drunk?

"It's Jos.h.!.+" yelled Zak suddenly, eyes bright, racing into the room. "With blood all over his face! And lots of policemen!" He bounced up and down, holding his w.i.l.l.y. "Mummy," he begged. "Can Toby come and play?"

Ca.s.sandra and Tallulah stayed behind their parents.

"Why have they hurt Josh?" asked Tallulah. "Did he take a biscuit without asking?"

Everyone turned to Jo.

"He-he-I-I...He. He-he-I..." she explained, vaguely conscious that that wouldn't stand up in a court of law. She pulled herself up straight and managed not to lose her balance. "I thought," she spoke very slowly and nearly clearly, "that heee was a big, axey murderer."

They turned to Josh, who was now quivering.

"Yes," said Vanessa. "An easy mistake." She knelt down next to Josh. "The doctor will be here as soon as possible."

"Hi, Vanessa." He breathed with difficulty. "Alright?"

"Why didn't you ring the doorbell?" she asked him gently.

"Lost my key. Didn't want to wake you."

Vanessa smiled. "Oh, we have missed you, Josh. You do liven things up."

She turned to Jo, who was now holding her head.

"Jo," she said, getting up, "You appear to be in some pain."

Jo nodded, then stopped.

"Did someone hit you on the head?" Vanessa came toward her.

"Yes," explained Jo, pointing at the encyclopedia on the floor. "I did."

Jo was surprised at how little sympathy she got.

"I thought he was an intruder," she said, a quiver in her voice.

Vanessa was about to answer when her senses were suddenly overpowered. She froze, her eyes watering, her throat spasming. She wasn't the only one. Everyone suddenly started to shuffle away from each other, their eyes averted in embarra.s.sment.

Vanessa's jaw dropped as she pointed in horror at Jo's bed. Has someone c.r.a.pped on the duvet?" she said, holding her nose.

"Oh s.h.i.+t, yes, that's me," groaned Nick. "Well it's not me, obviously, it's dog c.r.a.p."

"So let me get this straight." Vanessa smiled slinkily at the Flying Squaddie. "You're a policeman, but you're in plain clothes."

"That's right." He grinned.

"Very plain clothes."

He nodded. "Right again.'

A constable slouched behind Vanessa and her squaddie, punctuating their conversation with the occasional sotto voce "t.o.s.s.e.r." Now he remembered why plain clothes thought they were better than uniform. Because women did.

Meanwhile Nick and Gerry took a statement from Jo and tried to calm her down. They failed, especially when they suggested that she put it down to experience as a dry run.

Later, as Vanessa saw six policemen off the premises, answered their questions and gave details, all without any pajama trousers on, d.i.c.k poured Jo some brandy in the kitchen and the doctor saw to Josh in her suite. There was no internal damage and no broken bones, just broken pride, a badly twisted ankle, and some very nasty bruises. Josh finally shuffled out into the kitchen and sat down slowly opposite Jo, and both sat in silence while d.i.c.k whispered to the doctor by the door. Jo felt almost as self-conscious about her naked legs under the gla.s.s table as she felt wretched for what she'd done.

Eventually she spoke to Josh.

"I-I'm sorry," she whispered. "I thought you had an ax."

He gave her a sardonic smile. "I've never heard it called that before," he whispered back.

"Well well," said d.i.c.k from the kitchen. "You'll both laugh about this someday."

"Absolutely," agreed Josh. "If I live that long." He glanced up at Jo through thick eyelashes, a glimmer of a smile on his lips. Jo wanted the ground to swallow her up. Then she wanted the ground to throw Josh down on top of her.

"I thought I was protecting the family," she repeated in a monotone.

"Dad," said Josh, eyes still on Jo, "please tell Inspector Clouseau here that I am family."

Jo felt stung.

"d.i.c.k," she said, ever so politely. "Please tell the Milk Tray Man here that climbing through someone's window at night and skulking around their house is not big. It's not clever, and it's not...big."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"Now now now," soothed d.i.c.k, handing them both mugs of hot, sweet tea. "It was a simple case of mistaken ident.i.ty. You both scared each other, and you're both sorry."

Jo and Josh eyed each other over their mugs.

"All friends?" asked d.i.c.k.

"I thought he was going to attack me," Jo murmured over her mug.

Josh stayed staring at her over his mug, and Jo couldn't tell if he was smiling at her behind it.

"The night is yet young," he said quietly.

Chapter 9.