I looked pointedly at Ashley. ‘She is not going to invite us in, full stop.’
Ashley ignored me, swiping a bright pink slash of lipstick across her face, about half of which she managed to get on her lips.
At that point, the door flew open. Ashley jolted in surprise, stumbled and took a backwards dive off the porch.
A man hurried out of the door and joined me in helping Ashley to her feet.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked, brushing her chest down a little more thoroughly than strictly necessary, given that she’d landed on her bottom. He looked to be somewhere in his forties, his thick black hair and white T-shirt vaguely reminding me of someone.
‘I landed on my dodgy ankle,’ she groaned. I tried to manoeuvre myself in between her and the man, who, despite being shorter than me, and considerably flabbier, was remarkably strong.
I looked down when he trod on my foot, and, spotting his pointy blue shoes, I realised the person he reminded me of was Elvis.
‘Come on, then,’ he said in a reedy voice. ‘Let’s get inside and sort you out.’
Ah, Elvis in looks only, it would seem.
‘I think we can manage,’ I said, as the Elvis took hold of one arm, leaving me pulling on the other in a human tug-of-war. ‘Our car isn’t parked too far away.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ He smiled, teeth glowing. ‘You shouldn’t be roaming about anyway, two young women, this time of night. If you were my wives I wouldn’t allow it.’
Ashley made a not so subtle attempt to wrangle her arm back. ‘I’m fine, honestly. Sorry to bother you. This ankle thing happens all the time. Thanks for your help!’
She gave another yank and the Elvis let go. ‘Why did you knock on the door, anyway?’ he asked, raising one unnaturally smooth eyebrow.
‘We were looking for our dog,’ I gabbled.
While at the same time Ashley said, ‘Does Hillary live here?’
He curled his mouth in what I feared was meant to be a sexy, enticing smile. ‘Yes!’ Elvis opened his arms wide. ‘Forgive my rudeness. You know how Hillary values her privacy and she hadn’t mentioned visitors. But come in, come in, we’re about to mix martinis.’
And before I could ask ‘Hillary who?’ my partner in crime hobbled up the step with weird Elvis.
Ashley’s obsession had blinded her to the fact we were willingly entering the house of a complete – and seriously unnerving – stranger. I pulled out my phone as I followed Ashley, who was limping down a wide corridor with zebra-print walls. Unsurprisingly, out here in the wilds of Sherwood, I had no signal. As we entered a large room, I scanned the plush interior for potential weapons before taking a seat as close as possible to the crystal bowl on the coffee table.
Elvis hustled over to a bar in the corner. In the light of the chandelier dangling from the ceiling, his face was startling. Like a doll left too close to the fire.
Ashley gaped at me, her face as white as that famous jumpsuit. ‘Hillary abhors plastic surgery,’ she hissed. While I knew she really meant unnecessary cosmetic surgery wasn’t generally portrayed in a positive lightin Hillary West’s novels, I wasn’t about to argue with her.
‘Here we go, lay-deeeeze.’ Melted Elvis placed two very large, very full glasses on the table. ‘Now, how about we get a little more comfortable?’ He snapped his fingers, and the lights dimmed at the same moment as ‘The Wonder of You’ began tinkling out of invisible speakers.
‘I thought Hillary was here?’ I asked as he squeezed up beside Ashley on the sofa. ‘You only got three glasses out.’
‘Oh, she’ll be here soon. She’s probably freshening up somewhere. You know Hillary. But I’m much more interested in you two lovely lay-deeeze.’ He put one hand on Ashley’s thigh, making her flinch.
‘Shhh,’ he whispered, picking a drink up off the table and handing it to her. ‘Relax.’
‘Which of her books is your favourite?’ I asked.
‘Oh, how could I choose?’ Melted Elvis purred into Ashley’s neck. ‘That’s like asking me to pick between the two of you. Why narrow it down when you can enjoy them all?’
‘Right, we’re going. Thanks for the drinks.’ I stood up and moved to grab Ashley’s hand. Melted Elvis leant one arm on her leg, preventing her from getting up. ‘I thought you were here to see Hillary? She’ll be down any second.HILLARY?’
There ensued a brief tussle while I tried to dislodge Ashley, forcibly inserting myself under his arm and creating enough space for her to wriggle out. He then pulled me into his lap, and stuck what felt like a warm slug in my ear. As I fought against his clamped arms, my heart galloping, a mounting scream wedged in my throat, I wondered for a brief, horrible second if something utterly hideous was going to happen. Then, a dull thunk and Melted Elvis went limp. I scrabbled off, yanking his arms off me as I would a poisonous snake, and sprang back to catch sight of Ashley, face stricken, holding the crystal bowl.
‘Shuttlecocks!’ she squeaked. ‘I’ve killed him!’
He let out a long, shrill whimper and a considerably manlier fart.
