My Little Pixie

Chapter Thirty-Two - Emily's Father

That afternoon, I was down at 'The Redoubtable'. It was a calm, early summer's day and I was enjoying the impressive view out over the coast when the maître d'hôtel guided Craig Housegrove into the dining room. I recognised him at once - he looked remarkably similar to his daughter. He even had the same mousey hair though his was receding slightly.

He had a firm handshake and a warm smile but, after we had exchanged the conventional pleasantries, he held up the small case which contained his phone and other electronics. "Would you mind telling me what this is all about?" he asked. "Your driver said you would explain."

I had to smile. "Please excuse the slight discourtesy - it is necessary to ensure my security. That case is effective in preventing almost all forms of electronic or acoustic surveillance and, furthermore, I will be notified should you break the seal without my agreement. That would, of course, result in the termination of the meeting."

He thought about this and nodded.

"I need to ensure that my privacy is not compromised. However I presume... hope, really... that you would not feel comfortable in allowing your phone out of your possession."

Mr Housegrove smiled and nodded.

As ever, the meal was excellent and, by unspoken agreement, we avoided more serious subjects as we enjoyed it. Instead, we chatted casually: about our families - he was a widower who evidently doted on his only child; about his business - he owned a construction company specialising in developing buildings for local government; and about holidays - we discovered that we had a mutual interest in a particular vineyard in the Graves region in France. Fortunately, I discovered that fact before the salad was served and was able to amend my choice of wine to accompany the entrée, giving enough time to allow it to breathe.

"One of the reasons I selected this establishment is that it offers a private balcony where we will be able to talk freely without the risk of being overheard," I told him when we had finished dessert. "Would you care to join me?"

I led him across the restaurant and out onto the balcony. As the door closed behind us, a light turned from green to red to indicate that we were not to be disturbed. "May I offer you a coffee?" I asked. "Or would you care for a glass of..." I held up a bottle of wine.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"A rather fine Sauterne from that same Graves vineyard."

"I didn't even know they made one."

"They only really produce it for friends and family," I explained as I opened the bottle, with all due reverence. "But I managed to persuade them to part with a couple of cases. I poured two glasses before joining Craig in the easy chairs.

"To fruitful discussions!" I said as we touched glasses.

"Fruitful!" he agreed with a smile as he swirled the wine in the glass, enjoyed the bouquet for a moment and then took a sip.

For a moment, we appreciated the wine whilst enjoying the spectacular view. "So..." I said with a smile.

He smiled back. "Can I speak freely?"

"I would much prefer it if you did."

"Am I correct in guessing that you are the person responsible for freeing my daughter?" he asked.

My eyes must have darkened slightly because he hurriedly added, "Emily really did try not to tell me anything. In fact, she begged me not to ask about you. But I'd like to think I know my baby pretty well and there were a couple of things..."

He paused and took a sip of the wine.

"I mean... we both know she's not the most... worldly wise of girls. And she was a fair bit less shocked than she should have been when she found out what you'd done to the leader of that gang of bastards who'd kidnapped her."