I’m openmouthed in astonishment. I’ve never seen Tarkie so antagonistic. He was practically snarling at Suze. I mean, in some ways it’s great, because for a long time I’ve felt he was too timid. On the other hand, Suze looks like she wants to murder him. No, correction: She now looks like she wants to murder me.
“This is all your fault.” She turns on me.
“My fault?”
“You introduced him to that place! You introduced him to Bryce! Now he’s calling me toxic! His own wife! He won’t talk to me, he won’t listen; he just moons around with that wretched iPod—God knows what it’s saying to him.…”
“It’s probably saying really positive, helpful stuff,” I say defensively. “I mean, I went to zillions of classes at Golden Peace and I’m fine.”
“You’re not vulnerable like Tarkie!” snaps Suze. “Honestly, Bex, I could kill you!”
Instantly, Jeff is on his feet.
“Are we having some trouble here?” He advances on Suze, reaching for his holster thing. (It’s not a gun. It’s a baton.)
Suze stares at him in disbelief. “Are you threatening me? Bex, is this for real?”
“Just checking we don’t have any trouble, ma’am,” says Jeff implacably. “Rebecca, are you OK?”
“Fine, thanks,” I say, embarrassed. “It’s OK, Jeff.”
As he takes his seat again, Ernie, Clementine, and Wilfie come running into the kitchen. They adore the new bodyguard team. They’ve been following Mitchell around the garden, and now they come to a halt in front of Jeff. Ernest is leading the way and Clementine is hanging back a little, her thumb in her mouth.
“Where’s your dog?” says Wilfie to Jeff.
“Jeff doesn’t have a dog,” I explain.
“Sarabande at school has got a bodyguard all the time,” says Ernest importantly. “Her father’s a billionaire. Her bodyguard is called Tyrell, and he can do magic tricks.”
“Well,” says Suze tightly. “Lucky Sarabande.”
“If people attack you, then your bodyguard stops them,” adds Ernie knowledgeably. “Help! Jeff!” He clutches his throat. “I’m being attacked by aliens! Help!”
“Help!” chimes in Wilfie. He falls to the floor and starts writhing. “A snake is eating me! Save me! Jeff!” He turns agonized eyes on Jeff. “Jeff! My legs have gone!”
“Stop it, boys,” says Suze, giggling. “Wilfie, get up.”
Jeff hasn’t moved a muscle. He looks supremely unamused. Now Wilfie gets up and surveys him closely.
“Do you have special powers?” he says. “Can you go invisible?”
“Of course he can’t go invisible,” says Ernie scathingly. “He can do kung fu. Hai-ya!” He emits a high-pitched cry and starts doing kung fu moves all over the kitchen.
“Can I sit on your knee?” says Clementine, prodding Jeff’s leg. “Can you tell me a story? Why do you have a mustache? It looks like a caterpillar.”
“Clemmie, do you want some orange juice?” I say quickly. “Come and sit at the table.” I’m about to pour her a glass when Jeff leaps to his feet. Before I know it, he’s at the door of the kitchen, barring the way and muttering urgently into his headset.
“Sir, can I ask you to verify your identity?” he’s saying. “Sir, could I ask you to remain there?”
“I’m Luke Brandon,” I hear Luke saying testily, outside the kitchen door. “I’m the master of the house. This is my daughter, Minnie.”
“I don’t have you on my list, sir. Could you please step to one side?”
“It’s OK!” I call hurriedly. “He’s my husband!”
“Rebecca, he’s not on the list.” Jeff gives me a reproachful look. “We need everyone to be on the list.”
“Sorry! I thought he went without saying.”
“When it comes to personal security, no one goes without saying,” says Jeff severely. “All right, sir, you may step forward.”
“You didn’t put me on the list?” As Luke enters the kitchen, holding Minnie’s hand, he’s goggling with disbelief. “You didn’t put me on the list?”
“I meant to! I mean … I didn’t think I needed to.”
“Becky, this is ludicrous. Two bodyguards?”
“Sage recommended it,” I say defiantly. “She said you can’t be too careful.”
“Doggie!” Minnie points joyfully at the window, where Mitchell is leading Echo past, talking feverishly into his headset. “See doggie!”
“You’re not going near that doggie,” says Luke firmly. “Becky, that dog is going to maul Minnie.”
“She won’t. She’s under control. She was trained in Russia,” I add proudly.
“I don’t care where she was trained! She’s an attack dog!”
The buzzer sounds and Jeff instantly stiffens.
“I’ll take care of this.” He mutters into his headset, “Mitch, do you read me? Secure area A for delivery arrival. Repeat, secure area A.”
As Jeff strides out of the kitchen, Luke and Suze exchange looks.
“We can’t live like this.” Luke pours himself a cup of coffee. “Becky, how long have you booked these clowns for?”
“Don’t call them clowns! And I’ve booked them for a week.”
“A week?”
“Package for you.” Jeff comes back into the kitchen, heaving a large crate with FIRST MOVE SECURITY SOLUTIONS on the side.